Wanda Maximoff

Hey everyone. I guess this has been a bout a year coming huh? But the truth is Wanda’s not here. I guess I had it coming what with life bulldozing me and then smols being born, and then moving and a whole bunch of other things bulldozing me and other muses moving on too. So with that said….

I love each and everyone one of you now and always. Thank you for the wonderful times you and your muses have given us. I won’t be archiving this blog, and I will be logging in now and then to make sure his url stays in tact. Because who knows maybe someday he’ll whiz back into my life and we can start again. But for now…

We bid you all a fond : Until next we meet, because goodbyes are to finite.

All our love,

Jai & Wanda

          Bucky kept a firmer grip around Wanda once she stumbled.  He saw immediately just how devastated she was.  This whole mission had really done a number on her.  Bucky was torn between the urge to shield her and the urge to tell her to keep her head high.  He readjusted the blanket around her, so she wouldn’t trip on the edges.  The walk seemed to last an eternity and Bucky caught each and every glance in their direction.  Whenever they returned from a mission, it wasn’t uncommon for the agents to stare.  Everyone was more in awe of Cap most of the time, but this time…not so much.  

          He slowed down his pace as Wanda stumbled again.  Bucky wanted more than anything to pick her up and run.  That would only make the situation worse, but at least everyone would stop staring.  He didn’t even feel Wanda step on him and had to catch her before she face planted.  Bucky made her slow down as he smoothed back her hair from her face.  He chuckled when he heard Wanda’s remark.

                             “Blame the serum for my big feet.  Now hop on.”

          Bucky knelt down in front of her so she could hop onto his back for a piggy back ride.  He thought the position would make her feel less helpless, plus he could make a break for it much easier carrying her that way.  

Her face probably looks more tired, than what she intends. And what she intends was some sort of snarky quirk of a look. That would on any other day gotten across the implication ‘uh huh’. But it is what it is, and she’s sighing a little. Feeling even more useless. At least until ....now hop on. And Bucky is suddenly shorter. Giving his back to her and her head ducks again. Though this time it’s to hide thin lipped smile on her face. That could have been more if not for the incredibly bad day.

Oh now he’s being ridiculous, but she appreciates it. And she can’t help the almost inaudible giggle that escapes as she moves to hop on as he’d said. Keeping the blanket around her, tucked between her shoulders and his back to keep it in place. Arms wrapped loosely around his neck and legs about his waist. Chin settling in the alcove between her arm and his neck.

          “You are sometimes redee’culous,                                               Bucky Barnes but....”

          Bucky’s face brightened as he chuckled.  He pressed the button to raise up the back of his bed so he could sit up easier.  The game on tv had ended and a new one had started up.  He reached over the edge of the bed to pull Wanda’s chair closer, even though she had already sat down in it.  His strength was returning and Bucky decided to chance it.  Bucky’s eyes followed Wanda.  He had begun to regret, by Wanda’s continued reserved actions, that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to share a bed.  

                   “Lunch wasn’t bad, though I think they are drugging me,” he replied lightly.

                                  “Every meal I eat always seems to make me tired.”

          He shrugged his shoulders.  Being drugged wasn’t the worst idea, since it would keep him in bed to heal and less likely to cause a scene.  They wouldn’t have to worry about dosage with his high metabolism.  Bucky reached over to bring Wanda’s hands up onto the bed.  He gently began to massage her hands like he had done before.

“I’m sorry about making you sleep here.  I wanted you to get a good nights sleep but I shouldn’t have pressured you into it.”

There’s a bit of a squeak followed closely by a gentle laugh. Hands reaching out to steady herself on the chair. She should reprimanded him for the action but she doesn’t. She lets him have his moment of bravado. Sometimes such things are good for the soul. To let a man,  be a man. And the strongest one in the room. 

         “Or zh’at ee’s your body telling you to let ee’t rest.”

There’s a little laugh to her words, even if she isn’t sure if they are drugging him or not. It’s not something she believes them not above doing. She’s been on the reciving end of them taking precautions. And once you’ve been on that end of teh proverbial stick, it’s had not to think less of them than more. But she tries. They’re all only human after all. They can’t be expected to change their ways over night. Just because she and Bucky have both been cleared of charges, at least on paper. When her hands are reached for, she doesn’t resist. She lets him take them. Watching his fingers work at the sore muscles. It really does help, and she’s grateful that he bothers. Grateful that he know show. But his words have her gaze moving up by fractions. Has the hand not currently caught between his, moving and resting atop his arm. Hazel hues slow but steadily rising until she’s looking him in the eye. The first pat of her words, framed by a teasing tone and tiny smile.

      “You gee’ve sel’v maybe too much credit, da?                   I am adult and make on decisions.”

TAGGED:    @cochetsharpshooter TAGGING: @arrowedagent @hitslikeatruck @the-blackest-spider @whatremainsbarnes and anyone else that would like too!

Your sin has been measured. You have committed many sins, but Wrath is the mortal sin that has done you in.

          He hadn’t meant to upset Wanda.  That was the last thing he had wanted to do.  Bucky felt tired all of the sudden from this.  He tried to not think too much about what would happen.  Bucky turned his head toward Wanda.  She was doing her best to make light of the situation and he could see how much strain keeping this secret had put on her life.  Bucky reached over and intertwined his fingers with hers.

“I know you wouldn’t want to see me in cuffs, but it might put everyone else at ease.”

          His thumb rubbed small circles along the side of her hand.  This wasn’t going to be easy.  After Steve got over him being back, he would probably turn to Wanda with all of the questions.  The more he thought about being reunited with Steve, the more the guilt ate away at him.  His insides were in knots and he wanted to curl up in a ball with the hopes of a better tomorrow.  Bucky did his best to hide all of this.

“I need to come back.  I have hurt Steve long enough.  Can we swing by my place first?”

When fingers lace with her own, there’s a tiny flicker of a smile. Fingers flexing to offer his the smallest of squeezes. Touch had become a thing not often offered to her, outside of her twin. People’s fear keeping them at a distance. Even the team, even Clint and Steve, were sparing with such things. Not that she holds it against them, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Didn’t mean if didn’t make her feel even more ostracized within a group of people she’s supposed to be belong too. And her other hand comes up to settle unrestricted atop his. A gentle pat given to it.

              “La naiba, toți ceilalți .”

Almost breathed words. Some of them would probably like to see her in cuffs, if they thought it would do any good. But it wouldn’t. No physical restraint on this earth could hold her, at least none that any had found yet. But right now it isn’t about what can hold her, it’s about what can hold him. And how if she can help it, Bucky Barnes will not be shackled and caged like an animal. Because he isn’t that. He’s never been that. No matter how much he might have been treated as such in the past. He’s a human being, put through too much; and damn everyone else if she’s going to let him be put through even more hell for things that were not his fault.

             “We can go anywhere you want, v’irst.”

She means that.And honestly he can take it however he wants. She knows the likelihood he’ll change his mind and try to give her the slip is very real. But to be honest, Wanda would let him go. Let him get away, even if she could stop him. Because she’d also meant what she’d said before. She’s not here to force him to anything, but to be a bridge. An advocate to stand between him and the firing squad. At least until Steve could take her place. Because in reality that’s all she is. A stand in, until the person that deserves to hold that space, can. And speaking of stand in...she’s shifting to do just that. Stand up that is.Giving his hand a small tug.

            “Now come... o’vv o’v cold wet ground,                                  bev’ore I catch cold by association.”

           He watched Wanda for a glimmer of a reaction.  Her face hadn’t changed at all during the flight and Bucky knew that face all too well.  The face when you realized you might not be able to live with what you did.  You wonder how others will view you and the floor seemed to fall out from right below you.  Bucky didn’t press Wanda as the turning water bottle put a lull on the atmosphere between the two of them.  He dragged his fingers slowly along the base of Wanda’s scalp while she leaned against him.  Bucky still wasn’t able to get rid of the worry lines that creased Wanda’s forehead.

          The seconds ticked by as he waited.  Then Wanda spoke in a voice that was barely audible.  Her words for broken and uncertain, but she had at least made a decision.  Bucky let out a sigh, but nodded.  

                                    “We’re home,” Steve said as he walked toward them.

           Bucky reached out and took Steve’s hand in his own before his friend exited the quinjet with Clint.  He sat up a bit straighter and tugged Wanda’s blanket tighter around her body.

                                               “Time to go doll.”

          His arm wrapped around Wanda’s waist as he stood up.  Bucky would have rather carried Wanda again, but he didn’t want her to feel helpless.  She wasn’t injured, at least not on the outside from what he had been able to see.  

               We’re home.

It sinks into the bottom of her stomach and feels like ice, when it shouldn’t. But she bears it...with as much grace as she can muster. Which really isn’t all that much at the moment. And she tries to focus on other things. Like Bucky’s fingers at the base of her scalp. Calm. Clear. Focus. Just get to your room then fall apart as much as you want.

                      Time to go, doll.

She follows him up, granted she wouldn’t have been able to really fight the current of it, what with his arm around her. Still though she holds the blanket in place, from where Bucky had resettled it. Letting her hair fall in a curtain between her and the rest of the world once more. Doing her best to keep up with him, while trying not to lean against him too much. Though she knows she’s probably failing at that...alot.

Feet stumble a little, but she manages to catch herself well enough. Curse him and everyone else. Why did they all have to be so tall and long legged? As if it is some requirement of male Avengers. Must be at least six foot, unless you can move at the speed of sound or happen to be a millionaire or genius or some combination of both. 

But she uses that silly frustration to distract her from the whispers and the eyes she can feel on her, from the hanger staff. From agents sprinkled about the place. Always a big to do when one of their Alpha Team members comes back in worse shape than when they left. Well unless you were Clint. Because apparently him coming back unscathed is abnormal. And the want to go faster has her stumbling again, dislodging from Bucky just a enough to be noticeable. She wants to go faster but apparently her body isn’t capable of that just now. Not without looking like a disconnected fawn trying to learn how to walk, and stepping on Bucky’s toe to boot.

         “Supradezvoltat lotul de tine.”

          He, begrudgingly, spent most of his morning being checked over by a whole slew of doctors and nurses.  Then put through a plethora off tests, most of which, Bucky felt, were rather redundant.  In the end, everything was healing properly and all he would be left with were a new set of scars.  He was actually looking forward to lunch because that meant he was finally alone.  Bucky turned on a random sports game while he at his bland, but filling lunch.  They had him on a strict diet, since his stomach had been injured when he was impaled, which would carry over when he went home.  Bucky could cook, which was a plus and would make his transition back to the Avenger facility easier.  With lunch finished, Bucky happily fell asleep as the baseball game droned on in the background.

          Bucky wasn’t certain what caused him to stir, but he slowly opened his eyes.  He absentmindedly wondered if the hospital was drugging him through his food, because he hadn’t slept so much ever in his life, even when he had a horrid fever back in the day.  Bucky saw a figure, or at least a figure like shape by the door to his room.  He could either acknowledge the person and risked being asked how he felt, along with a shit ton of other questions, or fake sleeping.  The mannerisms of the figure were what, eventually, caused Bucky to speak up.

                              “I don’t bite.”

        “Some how I zh’ink maybe zh’at ee’s small lie, yes?”

It’s out of her mouth before she can stop it. Fingers gesturing a pinch like movement, mouth turned up at the corner a fraction. A tiny hint of how sassy she can be. A momentary peek. Not many people see, and those that do, not often. Well except may her twin, but he often asks for such treatment. Or so goes the excuse she feeds herself. But never the less, she picks her way into the room. Claiming the chair she had been haunting off and on. Legs gathering up and crisscrossing in front of her. Fingers woven together in her lap. A brow quirked up at the empty tray near by.

It doesn’t occur to her to ask how he is, mostly because she assumes he’s probably been asked that at least half a dozen if not more times already today. And she’s well versed in how repetitive that can get. How aggravating. So she picks another topic. One that is not to intrusive or too deep. Though she probably knows the answer already, it’s a polite question.

           Bucky let out a groan once Wanda said who had come on this mission.  He racked his fingers through his hair with a defeated sigh.  Sam still held many grudges against him and he didn’t know who Rhodey was, which didn’t bode well for him.  Most people who hadn’t heard of James Buchanan Barnes had heard of the Winter Soldier.  They then had a warped judgement of him.  He leaned against Wanda, not really considering that the movement might not be appropriate.

          This was like some sick joke that they world decided to play on him.  He could do the right thing, see his friend and turn himself in or remain hidden which would put Steve through hell.  For once, Bucky wanted to make a decision that was simple and didn’t risk his life.  

                  “Yeah…there is a major feeling of irony,” he said with an unamused chuckle.

          He toyed with the straps of his back pack as he decided the best way to do this.  Bucky realistically couldn’t walk hand in hand with Wanda to Steve’s base.  The moment he set foot in wherever they were holed up meant all eyes would be on him.  SHIELD would know where he was.  He would have to face his past head on, for better or for worse.

                            “What happens now?  Do you cuff me and take me in as a prisoner?”

She’s said something wrong. Her joke probably in poor taste, where she hadn’t meant for it to be. And against her lips curl inward. Her head ducking again. Out of everyone perhaps she should be able to say the right thing at the right time but, well she’s not really gotten that down to an art yet. Maybe someday, but today is clearly not it. And fingers fidget again. Rotating one ring and then another. Both out of awkwardness and giving her hands something to do.

                “Sorry....humor maybe....maybe not so v’unny.”

Her gaze tracks away. Watching the quiet street beyond them. Why did everything have to be complicated? It seems as though it’s one trial after the next. Conquer a hill only to be faced with a mountain. And after that another and another. Until struggling up an incline becomes almost normal. A hand rises, rakes her hair back from her face. Resettles it’s length along one side of her neck, a displeased sort of noise in her throat. Cuff me and take me in as a prisoner. Honestly, did he learn nothing about her, that night? Not even a little? Then again...it’s not like she has very much room to  blame him. Not that she really would if she could, but still she is human, well some parts of her anyway.

         “You should know better zh’an zh’at Bucky Barnes.”

           Bucky smiled when Wanda sat up.  She still looked utterly distraught, but at least she was talking and drinking some water.  He gently moved his hand from her neck to her lower back.  Bucky rubbed his thumb in small circles along her back as she took a few sips from the water bottle.  He could see the concern in everyone’s eyes, but it wasn’t his place to tell them what happened.  Steve motioned that they had five minutes till they land and headed up to the front of the plane.  Clint gently pat Wanda on the leg before he gave her some space by joining Steve up front.  He smiled as Wanda drank about half of the bottle before she replaced the cap on it.  Bucky rested his head against Wanda’s.

“We are going to be landing in five minutes.  What do you want to do when we touch down?”

          He didn’t know if Wanda would need time before she could talk or if she would want to get it off her chest immediately.  Maybe him and Steve could debrief her without the others around.  Bucky knew that when he broke, he usually just wanted to be around Steve, but he didn’t know how Wanda dealt with her mental breaks.  

The water bottle is settles in her lap. Cradled between her finger tips. Focusing on the rhythm of Bucky’s circling thumb, on the drum of the engines. On...the sudden pat against the top of her knee, pulls her gaze. And there is an attempt at a smile. But it just doesn’t quite make it. The disappointment in herself still to raw. Why Clint ever believed...believes in her, why any of them (especially Bucky Barnes) do; in moments like this, boggle her mind. To the point she often wonders if it’s just pity. And she’s tempted to look. Tempted to slip in and see how it is they truly see her. But that isn’t who she is anymore, and she keeps herself well inside the walls of herself. She’s relapsed enough today.

        What do you want to do when we touch down?

Her first instinct? Hide. Hide in her room. Away from everyone. Wait for her brother to come home from his own mission with Natasha and Sam. But that could take days, and she isn’t at all sure Steve will wait that long. If he can wait that long. There were protocols. Rules that had to be followed. Reports that had to be compiled and written. And probably another suspension on her part. God she really isn’t great at this hero, thing.

The bottle is turned in her fingers a little. Gaze tracking it. Watching the water turn about in response. Leaning back into the weight of Bucky’s head against hers. It...he shouldn’t be as comforting a presence as he is. She knows that. But for whatever reason he is. And she will take it. Greedy though that might make her. And yet still for as much as she wants to just exist in this spot, until everything has settled again; she knows that isn’t safest. She knows, it’s best to go with her first instinct. To hide.

         “I...I should....ee’s best not....”

           Bucky turned his attention from Steve as Wanda hastily stood up.  He noticed the deep shade of red that her cheeks had turned, even though she was trying to cover it with her hair.  Bucky tried to apologize and get her to stay, but she was so flustered already that he let her be.  He hung his head a little as Wanda changed to her native tongue.  Bucky shook his head as Steve gave him a curious look.  He would tell Steve later what Wanda was saying and let her make her hasty retreat.  Bucky’s face saddened for a moment as Wanda disappeared into the hallway.

                                        “So, what did she say?”

          He looked over at Steve with a glimmer in his eyes.  Bucky shifted into a more comfortable seated position and was happy to find his wounds weren’t causing him as much discomfort.

“She was embarrassed by your comment and said it wasn’t what it looked like, which is true.”

          Bucky sighed and scratched the back of his neck.

                 “Steve, I don’t think Wanda is alright.  I almost died in her arms, literally.”

          Steve’s face fell and he nodded.  He had noticed something was off about Wanda as well, but he didn’t want to push too much too soon.  Bucky was still recovering and Wanda’s hands were hurt more than she let on.

                             “I noticed, but she hasn’t opened up with anyone.”

           He could see something else was bugging Steve, besides both of their injuries.

                                           “What aren’t you telling me Steve?”

          Steve looked down and fiddled with his hands for a moment.

   “You and Wanda are suspended from future missions, at least until you two recover.”

           Bucky closed his eyes as he leaned back against his pillows.  He felt Steve’s hand cover his with a gentle squeeze.  This didn’t come as a surprise, but there was probably more to the suspension than just their injuries.  He knew Steve too well.

“You should go check on Wanda.  I don’t think you want to stay here to watch them re-wrap my injuries,” he commented with a light chuckle.

        Steve gave Bucky a soft smile, patted Bucky’s hand and headed back down the hallway.

                                    “I will swing by later.”

She’d run, once she’d passed out of sight through the doorway. Because she hadn’t known what else to do. Run and not looked back. Bursting into her room and slamming the door behind her. Settling back against it, hands over her face that was perchance as red as the manifestation of her ability. Embarrassment racking through her veins like acid. Oh she shouldn’t have let him talk her into sleeping there. She should have stayed in her own space, in her own bubble. And Steve had called her out on it. And while it irritates her, she knows he had every right too. She should have known better.

She doesn’t go back the rest of the day, and it’s not until just after lunch that she ventures back towards medical. U turning at least a dozen times on the way. Bucky is fine. He doesn’t need her hovering like a mother hen. But she can’t help it. She feels responsible for him being where he is. If she’d been paying better attention, if she’d pulled her weight, he wouldn’t be hurt. He wouldn’t have had to save her.

Half gloved fingers, tuck a curtain of hair back behind her ears. Trying to ignore the looks cast her direction by the staff. They aren’t her biggest fans, after the stunt she pulled before. And while she doesn’t blame them, honestly? They can go to hell. She was acting in Bucky’s best interest, and she wouldn’t apologize for that. 

Still cautious, silent feet carry her along. Finally leading her to his door. And there she stalls for a long minute. Just out of his line of sight. Second guessing for the millionth time, fighting the urge to simply turn and walk away again. To leave him be. Let him rest. 

Finally, finding a compromise with herself. She’ll just peek. If he’s asleep she’ll leave him be, if he’s not....and she leans forward. Just around the door frame, peering across the room at the bed. His eyes are closed, and there’s a small disappointment that she has to swallow. But she doesn’t turn and walk away like she’d planned does she? No she simply remains a moment. Letting it sink in, that he’s okay; and doesn’t need anything.

          He knew what Wanda’s answer would be before she even said it.  Steve would never stop trying to find him.  If he was in Steve’s shoes, he would be doing the same.  Bucky thought back to when they were younger and he always made sure that he knew where Steve was.  Whenever Steve was in trouble, Bucky knew somehow and would always find him in time to save his scrawny butt.  Even as Captain America, Bucky still had Steve’s back and Steve had his.  He let out a sigh and slid down the wall to sit with his head in his hands.  Bucky shook his head, wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his chin on top of them.

“No, I don’t want you lying to Steve anymore.  I need to face him.  Steve deserves better than this,” he said in a quiet, but adamant voice.

          Bucky looked up toward Wanda with a crestfallen face.  

                                        “Who else is here?”

When he shifts, slides down the wall to sit, her gaze drops further. It’s a learned habit. People felt more at ease when she wasn’t looking at them. Still it’s only a handful of moments before she to finds her way to  the asphalt. Perhaps a bit more daintily. Settling on her knees and then back on her feet. Hazel hues fixated on her lap. 

She’s relieved in ways she will never be able to word,  when she hears those words. I don’t want you lying to Steve anymore. She wants to sigh, wants to inhale deeply to see what it feels like not to have that weight on her shoulders; but she doesn’t. No, she tucks it away. Buries it deep and takes to turning one of the many rings on her fingers.

           “Sam...Rhodey....”

The names are not spoken above more than a whisper. As if they are some secret, not meant for other’s ears.  She keeps to herself why there are not more. Why the others had not come. Why Steve had sent them to handle another problem in South America. Best to have her first mission be with those not still clinging to not trusting her entirely. Because of the wounds she had inflicted. Not that she blames them. Because she doesn’t. And there’s a lift of her head. Her gaze settling in Bucky’s general direction

          “Ee’s ah...v’irst mee’ssion yes?”

          Wanda’s apologies were unexpected and caught Bucky off guard.  Bucky hesitated for a moment, uncertain of how to respond in front of the rest of the team.  He and Wanda had grown rather close through their mutual life events.  She understood him without words and supported him differently than Steve.  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her to rest her head against his shoulder.  Bucky gently scratched the base of her neck and scalp, an action that tended to calm him down rather quickly.  An action that he hoped would have a similar effect on Wanda.

“Shh Wanda.  You don’t need to apologize to me doll.  We can clear it up later,”  Bucky said in a quiet voice.

          The quinjet had taken off while he comforted Wanda.  Clint had come to sit down beside Wanda and Bucky did his best to mouth a basic recap of what had happened.  He left out specific details and more so conveyed that something had gone wrong that had brought up her past again.  Steve had made his way to the back of the jet as well and Bucky made a motion for Steve to get him a bottle of water.  Once he was handed the bottle, Bucky unwound his arm from Wanda to open the bottle.  He took her hand in his and wrapped her fingers around the bottle.

                                    “Do you think you can drink something?”

A watery glance in Clint’s direction, but no words. She let him down, again. And she can’t hold the look between them long at all. Bucky won’t have met resistance to guiding her head to his shoulder. In fact it is perhaps a bit pathetic how easily she relaxes into it. Tucking her face downward into her blanket wrapped hands. Concentrating on the stroke given to the back of her neck. It’s not something she’s used to, and she’s rather surprised how easing it is. How centering. How helpful it is to assist in grounding her to the physical. And hazel hues slip shut for a moment. Letting the sensation do it’s job. Trying very hard not to let the realization she would need to explain herself more clearly to him later, drown her.

For now she concentrates on two things. The scratching at the back of her neck and her breathing. Filling her lungs, holding it, releasing it. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. And it helps. It helps more than anything she’s been able to come up with to calm her nerves on her own. And maybe for a moment she wonders what that means. But she pushes it aside. Eyes opening again as her hand is guided to a bottle. Realizing a moment later how thirsty she is. And she nods, moving to sit up a little.

         “....d-da....”

        Steve almost fell out of his chair as he was abruptly woken up by Bucky.  He glared at his friend while Bucky broke out in an uproar of laughter that turned into pained wheezing, but the smile on his face never faltered.  Bucky was practically doubled over, almost falling out of the hospital bed, as he attempted to regain his breathe.  Steve rubbed the rest of the sleep from his eyes, the irritation towards Bucky also drifting away to be replaced by relief that Bucky was starting to feel like his old self again.  He poured a glass of water in response to a few coughs that came after Bucky’s laughing fit.  Bucky gratefully accepted the glass, draining it in a few seconds, before he handed it back to Steve and rested against the pillow again.

                      “You should have seen your face punk.  It was comedy gold.”

          He reached out and patted Steve on the shoulder.  Steve covered Bucky’s hand with his and gave it a squeeze.

                         “Yeah, well I’m just glad you didn’t pop out your stitches again.”

        Steve stood up and stretched out his limbs.  The chair hadn’t been the best place to sleep, but he had slept rather soundly overall.  

“I think the hospital has a policy about having dames in your bed,” he commented with his iconic golden boy smile.

      “ Sincer!              ----care’vul.“

The words are laced in amusement. Even if when her bunk mate (for lack of a better word) doubles over, it’s pure instinct that leads to a gentle hand finding his middle. The tiniest bit of red reinforcing stitches, to keep them from breaking. Never intruding beyond that, not healing. Only helping to ensure no further damage occurs. Though there’s a small flinch across her features because yes that had stung a bit. And as soon as Bucky has righted himself, she removes it. Gathered back into her own space, displaced hair tucked behind her ear once more.

         I think the hospital has a policy about having dames in your bed

For as red as her ability manifests it is nothing in comparison to how scarlet her cheeks flush. Heat rising up from them and into her ears. Oh she should have gotten up before. She shouldn’t have let herself linger. Shouldn’t have let Bucky convince her to stay put. And now, now Steve has made light of it. And she’s embarrassed, for herself as well as Bucky. And it’s that duel embarrassment that has her once again, trying to escape the bed. Gently but quickly. Muttering excuses under her breath as she goes. Though she doesn’t realize they don’t quite make it out in English.

        “Acest lucru nu este ceea ce pare.”

            Bucky is more than relieved to hear that Wanda is doing alright as well.  The corner of his mouth turn up into a half smile.  His head drops to his chest with her next words.  He had to leave.  Bucky’s eyelids slowly closed shut and he let out a defeated sigh.  Was this what the rest of his life was going to be like?  Constantly running from others.  Never truly finding a home to call his own.  Looking over his shoulder for any signs of his enemies or friends.  Her simple words had knocked the wind out of him.  His eyes were dull when he lifted his head to look at her.

“He is never going to stop…is he,” he remarked with a pained chuckle.

          His body moved to lean back against the wall.  Bucky’s eyes grew unfocused as he starred up at the night sky above him.  He wasn’t certain what scared him more.  Steve or having to face himself.

She could lie. Lie to make him feel better. But she hates that.  So often lied to as a child, by adults that tried to shelter her  and her twin. Tried to trick them into believing their lives were not as troublesome, not so full of hardships as they were. And a heavy sigh drags down her shoulders.

            “No....No he wee’ll not.”

She doesn’t lift her gaze. She can well feel his eyes on her, but she doesn’t rise to meet it. She is so tired of this game. So tired of the lies by omission. But she made a promise, and she will  keep it. It is not her place to do anything but keep it. She only  hope it will not come back to haunt her some day. Hopes that  Steve will never find out about that night, she had purged any sign that his best friend had been so close.

Barney beams and holds out a carefully wrapped package. It’s got some weight to it, but when opened, the visible gifts shouldn’t account for the weight.

Carefully wrapped up in the scarf is the third present, and the reason why the package weighs what it does: a large bottle of Țuică.

She’d nearly jumped out of her skin, preoccupied with trying to find a plug for her sewing machine. But while her skin stayed in tact she’d managed to bang her head on her sewing desk. And once she’s right ways up and clear headed her face brightens with a wide smile and an amused giggle.

          “Zh’ank you.”

The box taken from him carefully, as she sits down to open it. Peeling the paper away and pulling open the lid. And a hand comes up to cover her mouth. Looking up at Barney a bit awed.

         “Zh’ey are gorgeous!” 

She almost squeaks, pulling the scarf and hand warmers from the box. Their texture soft and welcoming; she can’t help but put them on. And that’s when she notices the bottle. A hand to her mouth again to cover a rather mischievous smile. She hasn’t had this in ages. Not proper Tuica anyway. And the bottle is picked up and hugged a bit more possessively than fits her usual character. A teasing comment leaving her lips, amid a serious (but mostly joking) warning like stare.