How the hell do you get a birthday present for an assassin anyway?
It had been a nice few months, almost four to be exact and each day things had gotten a little easier. They'd fallen into such a normal, familiar routine that it was far easier than he wanted to admit to find a sense of normal. When they were together the rest of the world simply ceased to exist. It was something that both of them needed more than either of them realised until it was there. She had never really had a normal life and neither had he.
This was the best things had been in his life for... Well for years.
They'd been hauled into the Avengers compound mostly to spend time with everyone else, no one knew they were together yet but they'd at least had a serious conversation about what they were going to do about that and when they were going to sit them down and talk to them about it, or at least how they'd probably take a divide and conquer approach to it because getting everyone together in the same place just seemed too overwhelming for him.
He was still dealing with a lot. His mind was still slowly reforming itself into something that even remotely resembled Human but he was doing far better at it with her help than he had been alone and he was glad for that, just as she'd always been she was his calm. She was his home. She was the stability and the safe haven that he'd sought out all these years without truly realising it and found nothing but emptiness because she wasn't there anymore.
Admittedly though, today Bucky Barnes was troubled. He'd spent a good most of the day in between training and general chit chat with everyone else trying to work out what the heck he was going to get Natasha for her birthday. It was in three days time and he still had no idea. She'd told him that it didn't matter and that she didn't bother at all with her birthdays but he'd told her that it was the first in decades that he got to spend with her and so he wanted to make it special somehow.
It was the somehow though that was proving to be a problem. He had no idea how he was going to do it but he was determined in the fact that he was. He needed to do something for her because she'd spent decades pretending her birthday didn't matter when it did.
She deserved to feel loved and appreciated and like someone was glad she was around. He was glad she was around. He was glad she was there and he was glad the two of them were back together where they belonged but this whole human thing was still quite the problem for him especially when it came to buying people gifts.
He hadn't done that since Steve's birthday just before he'd joined the army in the 1940's and even then he hadn't been really good at it, that kind of thing was never his strong suit but Rebecca had always loved to help him. She loved to shop... He could never understand why personally, he loved his sister but he'd never understood her enthusiasm for shopping.
Then again he hadn't complained when she'd dragged him along with her either, he was a good brother... Or he tried to be. He missed her more than anything now though.
He found himself wandering again, his mind racing this time though through fear of not being able to live up to the expectations that he'd set himself in his mind, he knew Natasha didn't care. She was still adamant that the whole thing didn't matter but it did to him. It mattered to him and he wanted to do all he could to make her birthday as good as he could.
Or try to. So far it was proving a harder task than he'd thought.
He rounded a corner almost bumping straight into Wanda Maximoff, Bucky stopped then to assess her and he offered her a small smile and reached out his arm to steady her just in case he'd actually knocked into her with any force, she seemed more or less okay though albeit taken aback by everything and she smiled at him. The two of them held some common ground, both aware of what it was to be used as a weapon and neither of them aware of the full implications of it even to this day.
Some - like some of the government types he'd been trying to avoid beating the shit out of - said that Wanda chose what she did but he knew otherwise, he knew that she was a scared child that had watched the world around her end, a child that had been buried in the rubble of her home for days until she was offered a helping hand from people that she couldn't have possibly understood. It was exactly the same thing that they'd done to him after all.
They'd found him at his weakest most vulnerable moment and they'd promised him that they could take it all away, they'd done the same to her and they'd promised her that she didn't have to be a victim to anyone else again, she wanted to be strong again and so had her brother and her brother had paid the ultimate price for it and Wanda hadn't stopped paying her penance every day ever since, he could see it in her eyes. He knew that look better than anyone else did, she'd never feel wholly comfortable with these people...
She'd never feel wholly comfortable with anyone until she learned to trust herself first and that would take time, he was still working through it himself. He took a step back and he allowed his hand to fall back to his side but still, the softness on his features remained. He related too well to Wanda Maximoff.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." Bucky studied her again as he spoke.
She shook her head though.
"You didn't, I'm fine." She appeared to give herself a onceover anyway just to be sure. "I didn't mean to intrude."
Bucky laughed slightly as he shrugged.
"Nah, you're not intruding on anything. I'm just walking honestly. I'm discovering that trying to figure out even the most simple human things is a lot harder than I remember." He wasn't sure why he felt as though he could be so honest with her but he did.
She gave him a look then that told him she understood, a gentleness spread across her features. She was so young, so lost to even herself and he could relate to that, it was a pain that he'd hope he'd never see on anyone's face again not after his own and Natasha's but life was cruel and people like HYDRA always found someone new they could use.
"What're you struggling with? Perhaps I can help or-" She glanced behind her and her brow furrowed.
Or she could find someone that could. The truth was that Bucky didn't want to attempt to explain why exactly finding a birthday gift for someone was stressing him out so much because then he'd have to try to do it without explaining that it only mattered so much to him because he loved Natasha and that was just... He wasn't ready for that conversation and so instead Bucky Barnes had been trying to figure out what to do about it on his own.
And doing a terrible job too apparently.
"Yeah, maybe you can." Bucky replied, maybe Wanda's insight simply as a female would be helpful for him.
She was observant, she spent time with people learning about them and she didn't make it overly obvious that she was doing just that. She made it easy to talk to her and she projected an air of calm that even he'd found actually soothing if he was going to be honest. She was genuine and she cared and she was just trying to do her damn best with the mess of her life and he knew that battle all too well.
Wanda grinned then, she apparently found his offer for something to do with herself to be a good thing because she looked considerably happier and much less stressed than she had before. It seemed as though she was craving distraction, he made a mental note to find out why.
"I need help with a birthday gift." Bucky admitted quietly.
Wanda tilted her head to the side as she studied him.
"For Captain Rogers?" She questioned, Bucky shook his head though he supposed she already knew that she just wanted him to confirm it.
"Alright!" She clapped her hands together. "A female someone?"
She spoke it in a way that was not at all mocking, there was nothing invasive about her tone and there was nothing that would make him think for even a second that she was trying to learn something she could run back and tell anyone else, she was simply trying to figure out the best way to help him and she seemed quite happy to be able to do so. Wanda Maximoff didn't look for the deeper connection there simply for a way to help him with his immediate problem.
See? She was a good kid.
"Yes." He replied with a small laugh. He was nervous.
She offered him a sympathetic look. She became contemplative as she mulled it over, her eyes assessed him carefully. She could see it was troubling him quite a lot and that - naturally - made her curious on just who it was he was fretting so much over. He could tell that she was trying to mull over options in her mind and trying to work out who the heck he could be dating but if she came up with anything, she didn't say.
"Well, perhaps if I knew who..." She rose a brow, it just reaffirmed his suspicion that she already had her own ideas on the matter.
Bucky frowned at her but laughed anyway.
"Just someone I know."
Hm. Curious.
She shrugged, knowing better than to push it. It wasn't her place and she didn't know him well enough to be asking him questions that personally. She did care for these people, they had become family to her following the death of her brother and the fact that they'd offered her a home, protecting her and nurturing her, helping her to learn about herself and her abilities and helping her to find a safe place in the world. The very last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize that not that she thought he'd take her asking questions terribly personally and yell at her for it, he didn't seem that kind of person.
"Jewelry would be the stereotypical option." She offered.
Bucky rose a brow and shook his head in a definite no. She smirked almost like she'd suspected as much.
"She's not the kind of person that really wears a lot of that." He knew that she did wear the occasional piece - Clint's arrow necklace for example - but she wasn't big on it.
He supposed something small and meaningful would be fine though. He was trying for something a little more personal for her but still he thanked Wanda for the suggestion, he'd considered it himself but then he was bouncing backward and forward between a few different ideas in his head and so far he just seemed to be chasing himself around in circles with it.
"What does she enjoy? Perhaps she collects something?" She suggested with a light shrug of her shoulders.
"She doesn't um, I mean she does collect some little things so actually that's a really good idea." He did know she did collect a few little things. That could work.
He watched her though, the way that she shifted from one foot to the other, the way that she kept her arms wrapped around herself almost like she had something she needed to protect her from, the way that she'd unconsciously chew on her lip and the way her eyes seemed to flick around the moment she heard the slightest noise. She seemed on edge.
"What's going on with you? You seem kinda troubled." He figured the least he could do was try to help her.
Wanda released a sigh, her shoulders sagged and she shook her head. She looked troubled once again and he felt a pang of regret for asking her, perhaps he shouldn't have after all. He was though still trying to figure out the more modern social cues, things seemed so different than they were when he was younger and free from the craziness of HYDRA and the whole brainwashed assassin-thing. He was glad that she at least had never been forced into killing anyone.
He wasn't sure she'd live with that too well. She seemed like such a gentle person and as powerful and different as she was, she seemed so very human.
"You don't have to talk about it." He amended with a smile.
She looked thankful for that but still, she chewed her lip anxiously.
"Maybe it'd help if I do." She admitted. "I'm afraid I'm losing control of my powers."
"What makes you say that?" He questioned softly.
She breathed out a sigh as she studied him almost as though she was deciding whether or not she could trust him. She knew if anyone understood the imprisonment and the pain that she'd been through in that horrible place it would be Bucky, she had no reason not to trust him; he too was someone brought in from the dark just like she was.
"Every time I get angry or super it's like- There is something inside that crumbles just a little more and when it does I can feel a surge and a screaming inside of me to let it all out but I'm afraid if I do that, I might hurt someone again like I did last time. I was trying to do the right thing and I hurt people. I do not want them to be right about me being dangerous."
He understood in that moment that Wanda Maximoff was a scared young woman who was afraid of what she was and what she'd been turned into and that was something he could relate to better than almost anyone else. She wanted so badly to do the right thing but he understood how emotion could make you reckless, especially if you had powers. It reminded him of Natasha putting her ass on the line for him trying to save him from Cryo again.
She was strong but she could've gotten herself killed.
"You aren't dangerous, Wanda. You're trying your best to deal with something someone else did to you. You're trying your best to find who you are for yourself now that you've got to live with what they did and you're doing a hell of a good job with that, you should be proud of yourself. We all have our moments, no one is in control all the time. Maybe you could ask Tony to build you a special place you could use your powers or maybe the Xavier school? They could help you with control?" It seemed the two safest options for her in his mind anyway.
"Or you could train with me? I mean, it isn't controlling magic or whatever but it's good to vent a little frustration sometimes if that's what's causing you to lose control?"
He shifted his weight so that he was leaned against the wall instead of merely leaning on the arm that was pressed against it. It wasn't his prosthetic so it was starting to ache.
Wanda looked thoughtful, she was clearly mulling over both options though he could tell that she wasn't all that keen on asking Tony for anything because the moment he'd mentioned it she'd wrinkled her nose in clear distaste which was something he could relate to, but the other two ideas didn't seem to provoke any negative reactions from her which - he had to admit - made him feel a whole heck of a lot more useful than he had all morning. Who'd have thought that trying to figure out a birthday present for someone could be so stressful.
"I think I'd like that. Maybe learning to fight might help me." She smiled as she spoke, just slightly though.
If you weren't paying attention you'd have missed the slight curve in her lips entirely.
"Alright then it's settled. Next time I'm in the gym I'll come get you?"
She nodded her head at the offer.
"Thank you, Sergeant Barnes." Wanda spoke in a quiet, gentle voice. She seemed altogether calmer.
He was thankful for that.
"Just Bucky is fine." He chuckled.
He knew that she called Steve Captain Rogers and he didn't want her to feel like she had to address him formally when Sergeant Barnes wasn't someone he'd been for a hell of a long time now. Bucky was... Familiar in some manner or another but Sergeant Barnes wasn't, not anymore. It almost felt to him like that man and all the good he'd done was just a dream but he never told anyone that, well no one bar Natasha anyway.
He told her everything though. He didn't want to say anything to Steve but James felt more like who he was than Bucky was, the person that Natasha knew felt like the most real side to him after everything that he'd been through but he knew Steve remembered the person he'd been before all of that and he was... Trying. That was probably the best way to put it: He was trying to get back to that person and slowly but surely, he was. Maybe Bucky would become just as familiar to him as James was.
No one called him James but Natasha though, everyone else settled on Barnes or Bucky. Or asshole in Sams case.
"I'll let you get back to your contemplation but remember, the best gifts are personal. Anyone can buy something generic, get her something that's personal to her." She squeezed his arm on the way past and Bucky nodded his head.
Finally, he had a goddamn idea what to get her. Thanks Wanda.