twisted memories

With your black clutch in hand and the back of your heels uncomfortably digging into your ankles, you walked out of the elevator to be greeted by loud music and an even louder crowd. You, of course, saw all the Avengers in attendance and some new faces that you can assume were friends of your teammates.

“Wowza!” Sam’s booming voice caught your attention. “You look amazing as always.” He gave you his classic smile as he leaned down to give you a side hug and a quick peck on your cheek.

“As do you, Sam. This suit is dashing,” you smirk as you adjust his tie.

“Just call me handsome, and I’ll be on my way.”

“Let’s grab a drink, and then I’ll see about that ‘handsome’ comment.”

You hate to admit it, but Tony sure knows how to throw a party. There were at least 75 people in attendance, with a live band and an open bar. Sam had left you a few minutes before to talk to the pretty receptionist he knew from his days at the VA, so now you were sipping your whiskey alone at the bar, observing everyone’s movements. As much as you love socializing with people, it was nice to get a moment alone. Your social skills were not the best, which is why you tried so hard to connect with everyone on the team. Even though he retired, Tony felt like the dad you never had. Sam and Natasha were always there for you when you needed them, and Steve was the guiding hand to life as an Avenger. They were starting to feel like the family you dreamed of having when you were a little kid.

Lost in thought, you barely notice the dark-haired man walking over to the seat next to yours. He was dressed in a black button-up with the first few buttons undone and matching black slacks. Even at a lively retirement party, he looked like he was attending a funeral. You couldn’t say too much about his outfit; you were wearing all black too. You see him order a shot of tequila and down it in one gulp.

“Stop staring. It's weird,” Bucky exhales out as he raises his hand to order another shot.

“Says the guy who has a staring problem,” you retort back before finishing your whiskey.

“You’re the one with problems.” Bucky saw you get visibly irritated with his statement.

He hated to admit that you caught his eye the moment you stepped into the party. Your dress was captivating, and he could see that every guy’s head turned to you as you strutted hand in hand with Sam over to the bar. Your silky brown hair, always tied up, was finally free, resting behind your ears and covering most of your open-back dress. Every time your strappy heels touched the floor, he couldn’t help but stare you down, admiring how you awkwardly maneuvered your legs to walk in high heels. It was clear that they made you uncomfortable, which made him chuckle. He hated that you looked so good. He had to get those thoughts out of his head. Even though he biologically can’t be affected by alcohol, he could try.

“I have problems? What is that supposed to mean?” you question.

“Nothing.” Bucky deflects and downs another shot.

“Tell me, Barnes, or I’ll force it out of you.”

“A shot for the lady, sir. And another for me,” Bucky continues to ignore you as he waves his hand to get a bartender’s attention. In no time, a shot of liquid courage appears before you.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” You raise your eyebrow in confusion.

“Maybe it’ll take the stick out of your ass,” Bucky smirked as he raised his drink to cheers with you.

“I don’t cheers with people I don’t like.” You grabbed the shot glass and tipped your head back, allowing the alcohol to burn your throat.

“Now that I’ve got you drunk and honest, why do you dislike me?” Bucky asked, moving his stool closer to yours.

“I’m not even drunk yet. You have to wait at least thirty minutes,” you rolled your eyes.

“Only thirty, huh? I’ll see you later then,” Bucky took his final shot of vodka before leaving you at the bar alone. You scoff in surprise, then take your leave to join the other Avengers in the middle of the floor.

—-

“... and that’s why I’d easily beat Peter in a fight. You gas up your spider-ling too much, Tony,” Sam explained to the team.

“Don’t forget the last time you fought against him, Sam,” Tony said with a smirk—a couple of ouu’s from the crowd scattered around the two of them. Sam and Tony were talking as if it was a rap battle.

“Redwing took him out after he webbed me up, so technically, I won,” Sam defended himself.

“Please, Peter beat your ass, and your mechanical bird sidekick had to save you,” Tony retorted.

“Touché. But get that kid’s attitude in check because he is really starting to annoy me,” Sam smiled as he laughed along with the crowd.

“Ah, I haven’t seen Peter in ages. How is he?” You asked as you walked up to Tony, offering him a beer.

“Thanks, Shadow, but I’ve drank more liquor than water today, so I’ll pass. Peter is doing great. He’s on a class trip right now to Prague. The kid deserves it.” Tony lovingly replied. He always had a soft spot for Peter, which was heartwarming to see. Whenever you saw him at the tower, Peter would always force Tony into doing teenager-esque things such as silly filming TikTok dances or building legos. Tony would begrudgingly agree, but you knew it was a rouse. Seeing that the Avengers had a life outside of constant missions was nice. You were always good at noticing things. Even though he never told you, you knew Clint had a family due to his sneaky escapes into privacy to get on the phone with his wife. Natasha and Steve have had a “thing” for a while, hearing their footsteps as they sneak into each other's rooms late at night and their lingering looks at one another in public spaces. Wanda and Vision have already written up their retirement plan, with Vision purchasing a lot in Westview, New Jersey, where they can settle down and raise kids together. Sam has been trying to talk to the receptionist from the VA since the moment they met. When he first mentioned her, he called her “the light of the office,” and you connected the dots from there. Tony had been talking to Pepper about having their first kid, aptly named Morgan after Pepper’s eccentric uncle. And in the depths of night, you could hear Bucky walk to the coffee machine on your floor to grab a cup of caffeine to keep him awake.

“Tony may have had enough, but the rest of you haven’t. We are getting loose tonight, c’mon,” you encourage as you gesture your hands to lead them to the bar. You feel someone sneak up behind you and snake their arms around your waist.

“Hey, pretty,” Natasha whispers. You place your hands over hers and laugh.

“I’m assuming you drank a lot, Nat,” you chuckled.

“More than you would like to know,” she smirked, then planted a fat kiss on your cheek. Your mouth gasps open theatrically.

“One more wouldn’t hurt, right?” you ask as you order ten glasses of champagne for the whole team. The bartender places them on the table, and you watch in amusement as they scramble to grab a glass. The team gathers around and holds their glasses up as Steve prepares to give a speech.

“Clint, everyone here will miss the sight of you with that bow in your hand and the annoying quips you would say through comms during our mission. Your absence will leave a noticeable hole in our team, yet I know you’ll live a life full of joy, excitement, and peace. You may be retiring from the Avengers, but trust me when I say your legacy will live on with every heroic deed and every act of kindness. Enjoy retirement. You deserve it. To Clint!” Steve spoke, everyone soaking up every last syllable leaving his mouth.

“To Clint!” Everyone clinked their glasses together and took a sip. Loud cheers erupted as the team hugged him individually, offering their congratulations. When it was your turn, you hugged him tighter than you intended.

“Congrats on your retirement, Barton. I’m sorry I put you in such a dangerous position,” you apologize. Clint pulls back from the hug and strokes your arm gently.

“Shadow, that was like the 100th time you apologized to me. I needed this. What happened in Germany just gave me that extra push. I should be thanking you, really,” Clint reassured you with a bright smile. “Plus, I’ve literally fought aliens and murderous robots, so electrocution is just a regular Tuesday for me.” You and Clint go into a small fit of giggles before you said goodbye and depart from the group to head to the tower balcony. Your social battery was slowly draining, and you needed space to yourself. You grabbed the iron railings and took a deep breath in and out. The air was so much fresher up here than it is down in the streets of New York City. You gazed out into the view of the skyline. The muffled notes from the music and the soft bustle of Manhattan filled your ears pleasantly. The lights of skyscrapers illuminated the view, sending you into a state of serenity and peace. You recalled what you wanted your life to look like if you weren't a Widow. This was what you wanted. Peace with a beautiful view of a big city. Not to mention, the view was so much prettier when you were one drink away from being drunk.

“So why do you hate me?” You turn around to see Bucky standing several paces behind you, holding a glass of champagne in his metal hand.

“What are you doing here?” you ask with an exasperated sigh.

“I didn’t forget what you said earlier, unlike you. I waited thirty minutes. Now, you should be drunk enough to answer my questions,” Bucky replied as he walked up next to you.

“What was your question again?”

“Why do you hate me?” He turned his whole body to face you, resting his metal arm on the balcony railing.

“I think I should be asking you that.” You continue to stare into the twinkling skylight.

“Why do you say that? I don’t hate you.”

“Then why did you blame the failure of the Dresden mission on me?”

“Wha- Where did you hear that from?” Bucky stuttered, surprised that you would bring up the incident in the hospital room.

“Don’t bullshit me, Barnes. I heard you at the hospital talking to Nat,” you spat out, employing every ounce of your self-control to keep your eyes glued to the Empire State Building.

“It was the heat of the moment, and I was just worried about the team-” Bucky attempted to defend himself, but you cut him off.

“I prepared my ass off for that mission, and yes, it went badly. Do you think I was running around the tower sing-songing because I was happy I failed? Do you really think that little of me?” You finally broke and turned to face him.

“No, I meant-”

“Oh, shove it, Barnes. You meant what you said. All I was working on the days leading up to the mission was preparing a viable plan. I spent a year on this team to prove that I was capable, and then I failed. I failed miserably. And you couldn’t wait longer than a day to begin shitting on all the work I had done in the last year,” you angrily gritted through your teeth. Your eyes filled with pure pain and hurt, with anger underlying all these emotions you were feeling. But you had to hide it. No one could see what you were feeling. You saw his demeanor go from defensive to empathetic for a second before he reverted to his cold gaze on yours.

“I wasn’t mad about the mission going wrong.” Bucky sighed.

“Then what were you angry at me then?”

“You don’t care for the team enough!” He shouted, and you swore all of midtown Manhattan could hear him.

“Excuse me?”

“As mission leader, you should’ve gone down to the basement with the whole team instead of staying with Mrs. Hilbert,” Bucky’s voice lowered, but the look in his eyes remained the same. Hard and unchanging.

“Sorry, I like to comfort my victims. Clearly, you don’t know anything about that,” you sarcastically remark as you step towards him.

“The bigger mission at hand was gaining intel, which only happened because Wanda and Nat were there to save the day. If you weren’t so worried about Mrs. Hilbert, maybe the mission could’ve gone differently.”

“Spare me your stupid hypotheticals. I take no shame in how I decided to act at that moment. I don’t want to talk to or look at your face, drunk or sober.” You and Bucky were a foot away from each other’s faces, and even though he towered over you, you still managed to make him feel small.

“Why are you acting like this? Is it because of…” his voice trails off, and his eyes go to your scarred hand. You notice this immediately and jerk your hand behind your back.

“If you don’t remember, then I can’t help you.” You roll your eyes and turn your head to the skyline once again.

“What did I do? Just tell me. Please.” You could hear the desperation in your voice, and you gave in.

“Fine.” You took a deep breath before continuing. “It was in the Red Room. I was a teacher, and you were there to help me train widows.”

“I don’t recall.” Bucky looked at you, confused, as if he was going through his catalog of memories from his time as the Winter Soldier to remember you.

“This is a waste of time. Clearly, you don’t remember, and I don’t want to think about it anymore.” You look into his eyes one last time before turning to leave.

“Are you kidding me? Whatever. Be bitter all you want, but you’ll never get closure,” Bucky called after you. It worked. You stopped in your tracks and turned around with the wind blowing in your hair, messing up the curls you spent an hour on.

“Oh, like you? What’s up with the trips to the coffee machine at 3 am, then? Seems like you didn’t get closure either.” You saw Bucky’s face drop before you turned to walk away again.

“Yeah, whatever,” Bucky flatly said, barely out of earshot.

“Whatever,” you muttered under your breath as you re-entered the party. So much for peace and quiet.

—-

You had reached your limits with the drinks; however, that wasn’t going to stop you from sitting on the stools and observing people shamelessly. You saw Tony and Steve go for an arm wrestle, with people around them cheering them on. Humans are so cute. Sometimes. Out of nowhere, you saw a man dressed in a white long sleeve and black slacks starting to walk towards you. He sat on the stool beside you and ordered a gin and tonic. Your body still faced away from the bar, so all you could see of him were his back muscles and shoulders.

“Some party, huh?” the mysterious man’s deep voice pierced your eardrums.

“Definitely a party,” you replied, turning around to see who the man was. You were greeted by a dirty blonde-haired man who had alarmingly sharp features. His jawline could cut glass, his nose was prominent, and his eyes were jarringly hazel. He was quite an attractive man. He flashed you a sly smile and extended out his hand.

“Nathan Voss.” You take his hand into yours in response and give him a firm shake as you introduce yourself.

“I like your name,” he quirked as he sipped his drink.

“Ditto.”

“So what is a stunning girl like you doing alone at the bar?”

“Would you believe me if I said enjoying the free drinks?” you quip.

“Can’t fault you for that. How do you know Stark?”

“We’re…co-workers. And you?”

“I was commissioned to design weapons for him back in the day. Nowadays, I’m a friendly face,” Nathan glances over his shoulder at Tony and smiles.

“Ah, so you knew him before the hero life.”

“Yes, he’s changed for the better, I think. The whole superhero gig got him going straight. So what about you? What is your story?” he asked, looking back at you with his chocolate-brown eyes.

“My story?”

“Your story. Where you grew up, who you grew up with, where you went to school, all that interesting stuff.” He genuinely looked interested in your life, but you didn’t want to bring down the mood with a whole ‘got taken and trained as an assassin for 15 years’ spiel.

“Don’t you think we need to know each other before we get into my oh-so-tragic backstory?” you say sarcastically.

“Well then,” he takes out a business card and flips it to the back to write his phone number down. “Call me when you’re free.” You give him a slightly surprised look and take the card into your hands.

“Will do, Nathan.”

“See you.” And with that, he downed his drink and left for the elevator, giving you a small wave before the elevator doors closed. You quickly stuffed his card into your purse, still reeling from your interaction with the man. He was kind, charming, and seemed a good man. Not to mention, he was pretty handsome. Although Nathan told you he knew Tony, you had to make sure in case he was a rando that broke into Stark’s party. You take a breath and stride over to Tony who was currently debating Rhodey about who had the better action stories. You give him a slight tap on the shoulder, and he whips his head around to face you.

“What’s up, pumpkin? Are you getting tired?”

“Well, yes, but that's not what I’m here for. Do you know a guy named Nathan Voss?” Tony thinks about your question for a couple of seconds before lighting up.

“Yes, actually. He helped with my weapons manufacturing back in the day—very helpful guy.” You nod your head in response.

“Good to know, Tony. Thanks.” You wish him goodnight and head upstairs to your room to change into your pajamas and into another night of restless sleep.