Untangling a Memory

One injury.

"Sounds good, Steve. We'll talk soon. Good night, Natasha."

"Night, Barnes."

Bucky had gotten off the phone, his heart beating hard and fast. He knew every time he talked to Steve that Natasha might be around, but she had joined their conversation so quickly that he barely had gotten his feet underneath him before the call was over.

He had thought about calling or texting Natasha, but after his conversation with Steve, he'd felt very self-conscious. Finding out that the others had noticed that moment between him and Natasha before they all left for their mission felt exposing and Bucky decided that he was letting his feelings, or at least his hormones, get the best of him. He'd been very good at ignoring any lingering thoughts until he heard her voice and he'd nearly dropped the phone in the process.

So, once the call was over, Bucky made about distracting himself again. He made a PB&J sandwich for dinner and ate it while watching Apollo 13, a movie from the list Natasha had given him. Once he finished dinner, he ran the stairs outside the palace for an hour, and when that wasn't enough, he ran a couple miles more. When he returned to the palace, it was late, but he finally felt tired enough to be able to go to sleep without laying in bed thinking about her.

---

The feeling of falling.

White. Grey. Hills, mountains, cliffs.

Cold air rushing past your face.

Falling.

Falling.

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Snow. So much snow.

The school. Walk inside it.

They let you in the front door.

You are... the teacher? Yes, the teacher.

Teaching girls. Young women. 

"You should address him as Soldier."

What are you teaching them?

Focus...

Fighting. Sparing.

Hitting.

Throwing.

Punching.

Kicking.

Tossing.

Grasping.

Chipping teeth.

Splitting a lip. 

Focus...

B r i g h t.

G r e e n.

E y e s.

"Thank you, Soldier."

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