#mindwipcd

im back tentatively!!!!! i want to write so much!!!!!!! ive been trying to get back into the game for like a year

      they hadn’t seen each other yesterday, both of them too busy to spend even five minutes together. kit is a few weeks into the last year of high school and bucky was trying to save as much money as he could before he left again. but today, their workloads were lighter and her parents had given her permission to spend the last few hours before her curfew with bucky ( though margaret had been reluctant, convinced only by jack’s reminder that kit had never broken curfew before ).

   “don’t.”

they’re both thinking it. of course they are. steve was their friend. more than that, steve was their brother, and it isn’t fair that he can be lost to them when they’re still walking around now. jane and bucky love each other and there’s no denying it, but they’re best at loving each other when they’ve got steve there, too. there is a steve-shaped hole in the foundations of what makes them them, and she has no idea how to fix it.

       but jane has to set aside her own grief right now. they can’t both crumble; one of them has to hold up the other or there will be no getting out of this sinkhole of despair. with a heavy sigh she squats down in front of him so they’re level, and a hand reaches out to rest against his knee. gentle touches, noncommittal touches. things he can still pull away from if he needs to. 

“i watched a boy die.”

      it shouldn’t come as shock to her. there’s a war on, of course it’s going to happen -- and yet all of her training could not have prepared her for actually seeing it. her hands -- still red, still sticky -- are shaking, even rested as they are in her lap. and GOD, she wants to go home.

      “james barnes, if i didn’t know you any better, i’d say that sounded like you were asking me to the dance as your DATE or something.”

          It’d been days since James was hospitalized - hell, a week even. And still, there had been no sign of her being there, for him. Steve had called her several times each day, probably wondering why no one had heard from her - not even James had. But it was too hard for her, Natasha didn’t dare to look him the eye, she was already overflowed with guilt. His accident had been her fault - and there was no way she wasn’t going to blame herself for it.           Natasha had received a single text from Steve earlier that day, saying that Bucky was coming home today. But of course, it wasn’t going to be the welcome he probably ad expected... When the wooden door opened up, James was met by an unfamiliar view. He would enter his apartment, only to see none of her stuff was still there - as if she had tried to remove herself completely from the surface of the Earth.           She stood in the common room, arms crossed over her chest in a defensive manner - tears already threatened to roll down flushed cheeks.           ❛     We need to talk...     ❜          It was the only thing she managed to say - but everyone knew it couldn’t be anything good.

          After Steve had rescued Clint, Wanda, Sam and Scott - Natasha had found them     (     she was a master assassin after all - there was no one on this planet that she wasn’t able to track down     ).     Steve had greeted her as an old friend - which the Widow was more than grateful for. The team had found a new facility to crash     (     at least for a little while - they’d eventually have to relocate again, and again     ).     Bucky had joined them not long after, and soon this tension between them had come. Natasha would feel him  G A Z I N G  at her, knowing he couldn’t remember a thing about her - not a single thing about the past they’d shared -- and she would   LIE   if she said it didn’t ACHE whenever she thought about it. But she  B U R I E D  said feelings deep within her, and never let anyone know of what she walked around, struggling with.           It wasn’t until he walked in on her in the small gym located in the cellar, and he caught her STRETCHING - it seemed to have TRIGGERED something in his memory. Her time with the Bolshoi had clearly left it’s marks on her flexibility - had he recognized a move------ ??

           ❛     So------ where are they sending you  this  time ??     ❜          With her back facing him,THE WIDOW slipped into her classic stealth suit, and zipped it all the way up. Slender fingers brushed over the two guns attached to holster’s by each side of her thighs.