[ She asked to be there when he woke up, assured like she has any idea how to handle the Winter Soldier. I know him, she explained, even though that wasn't true inside the Matrix and is now thrown further into question — she doesn't even know if they shared the same delusion or just something similar, one variation among the infinite. He might wake up not knowing her. Knowing anyone. Again.
It seems better if she finds that out before Steve.
There's one chair, and she's been camped out in it since they detached the sedative from his IV drip. Occasionally she does stretches, straining against her own weakness while there's no one around to see when she's forced to her knees on the steel floor. Most of the time she watches him, scrutinizing the lines of his face like she can glean something from them, this man who was a ghost story. It's strange to have him laid out vulnerable before her. But when Bucky stirs she's sitting with her legs crossed, reading, seemingly at ease.
There's something bird-like about Natasha like this, elfin-faced and short-haired, her limbs skinny and dotted with those metal plugs like scars from her own rebirth. Normally she wears head-to-toe black, but she's dressed simpler here, non-threatening in soft browns, skinny legs and arms exposed. No weapons. She stays out of arms'-reach but within the Soldier's line of sight. ]
You're safe.
[ Is the first thing she says, voice soothing. And: ]
You're free.
[ Because she would have liked those to be the first things she heard, once upon a time, even if she wouldn't have believed them then either. ]
no subject
It seems better if she finds that out before Steve.
There's one chair, and she's been camped out in it since they detached the sedative from his IV drip. Occasionally she does stretches, straining against her own weakness while there's no one around to see when she's forced to her knees on the steel floor. Most of the time she watches him, scrutinizing the lines of his face like she can glean something from them, this man who was a ghost story. It's strange to have him laid out vulnerable before her. But when Bucky stirs she's sitting with her legs crossed, reading, seemingly at ease.
There's something bird-like about Natasha like this, elfin-faced and short-haired, her limbs skinny and dotted with those metal plugs like scars from her own rebirth. Normally she wears head-to-toe black, but she's dressed simpler here, non-threatening in soft browns, skinny legs and arms exposed. No weapons. She stays out of arms'-reach but within the Soldier's line of sight. ]
You're safe.
[ Is the first thing she says, voice soothing. And: ]
You're free.
[ Because she would have liked those to be the first things she heard, once upon a time, even if she wouldn't have believed them then either. ]