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soulmarks - for natasha
Steve had called him "Bucky" but he has no attachment to the name. He's only been called soldat for years and years so having a name washes over him like water and doesn't leave anything permanent behind. He knows other people's names because it's important to do so - Steve, who claims that he knows him. Tony, who comes and does tests on his arm. Bruce, who makes him talk about his emotions. None of them have any impact other than Natasha, the one with the mark.
He doesn't remember her. He simply knows that the spider behind his ear matches the spider on her wrist. He knows that he shot her in their fight and he knows that he missed. He never misses. She was close enough for him to take a headshot or one in the chest but he chose her shoulder instead, non-fatal, and let her live. Injured, yes, but very much alive.
When he hears footsteps approaching the door he knows that it's her. They're light in such a way that it feels like she never wants to leave visible tracks, like she slips through doors and buildings and roles in a way that no one else can. She's the one he wants to talk to the most. The door is locked from the outside and while he thinks he could break out of this room, he doesn't. He behaves, for the most part, because he's been behaving the entire time he's been alive.
"I'm still in here," he says. He doesn't know if that's a comfort or not. He's sitting cross-legged on the floor instead of using the bed or the chair; neither of those things feel like his right now. "You can come in."
He doesn't remember her. He simply knows that the spider behind his ear matches the spider on her wrist. He knows that he shot her in their fight and he knows that he missed. He never misses. She was close enough for him to take a headshot or one in the chest but he chose her shoulder instead, non-fatal, and let her live. Injured, yes, but very much alive.
When he hears footsteps approaching the door he knows that it's her. They're light in such a way that it feels like she never wants to leave visible tracks, like she slips through doors and buildings and roles in a way that no one else can. She's the one he wants to talk to the most. The door is locked from the outside and while he thinks he could break out of this room, he doesn't. He behaves, for the most part, because he's been behaving the entire time he's been alive.
"I'm still in here," he says. He doesn't know if that's a comfort or not. He's sitting cross-legged on the floor instead of using the bed or the chair; neither of those things feel like his right now. "You can come in."
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He's sitting on the floor which as far she can tell he does a lot now. It's not that surprising but it's always in the same position which is interesting. Don't his legs ever fall asleep?
"Bold of you to make assumptions that I was trying to bother you, Barnes." It's nothing gentle like the others are with him. She doesn't have time for such things.
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The mark. Steve has told him that he had never had a mark when they were younger. Most people are born with theirs or it shows up when they're a child but he never had one, apparently, and now he does. It matches the one Natasha has. Somehow he thinks he knew under the programming; he should have killed her and he didn't.
"Did you always have it? Steve says I did not have one."
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"You know it's rude to just ask people about their marks right?" she says with a frown.
It's a purposefully choice to ignore the first comment. She does want to figure him out, or rather, she wants him to figure himself out. She's still just not sure the way people are going about it is the right away and it makes her uncomfortable. Forcing things doesn't ever feel like the right answer.
"I was going to go get coffee, you are welcome to join me if you make an effort to be more polite," she says and motions with her head towards the kitchen.
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Simply eating food is a luxury after surviving on protein bars and whatever else they had been giving him to sustain his nutrition while being the soldier. He has choices now, any choice he wants, and sometimes he chooses three and four things at the time because he can.
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She goes to pull out coffee mugs.
"Do you know how you like your coffee or should I make it a few ways and you can try some?" she asks. When he'd get wiped in the red room sometimes it took him a while to find his favorites. She's pretty sure she knows how he'll take his coffee but it's good to have options so he knows exactly what he wants.
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He's tried saying his name over and over and neither the formal version nor the nickname feel right to him. When Natasha had called him by his last name, though, that felt right for some reason. Is that more comfortable for him or does it have to do with her?
"I didn't mean to offend you about the mark," he says. "Steve just told me I never had one and was kinda reckless because of it."
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"If you like one of those more then the others we can go from there," she says but she doesn't reference the mark again. Instead she takes a sip of her own coffee and goes to look into the fridge to try to find some food and settles on leftover Chinese from the night before that someone had picked up for take out and brings out a couple of boxes.
"Not knowing what you like is a good excuse to try everything, see what fits. I doesn't particularly matter what you used to do, or like. It just matters what you enjoy now," she says carefully as she opens a box and proceeds to eat cold shrimp right out of it.
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"Sorry, I'm just writing down everything I find out about myself." He closes the notebook before Natasha can see doodles of the mark or things he's written down about her and the others in the building; that would be strange even though he's just doing it so he can keep his head straight and start to make memories again.
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"You don't have to apologize," she says with a shrug. It's easy breezy, something like that.
"Did you want to try some food?"
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Years of bland sustenance had dulled his taste buds and now everything tastes amazing no matter what it is. He's tried Chinese, pizza, pasta, salads - all of it has been great.
"Am I gonna have to try using the stick things?"
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"They're called chopsticks by the way," and it dawns on her that he hadn't actually asked and maybe she shouldn't be giving the information, "- incase you were wondering."
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Bucky picks one of the containers (it's beef and broccoli and plenty of some kind of sauce that makes it taste fantastic) and he knows he's eating too quickly to really savor it. He's so hungry all the time; it must be the serum, right?
"They didn't actually...feed me."