i know places

The boys are already home by the time that Wanda gets in, late from work and covered in cold coffee. She doesn't stop in to say hi, doesn't even care that the apartment is a mess. The sink is filled with dishes that weren't there this morning, there's a basket of unfolded washing tipped out on the table in the kitchen, and the groceries she asked Pietro to pick up on his way home are still sitting unpacked on the bench. She wants to care about it but she can't. She's too tired, too worn out from work, so she leaves it.

The mess isn't hers, and after the day she's had she can't even think about cleaning it up. Wanda leaves it, locks herself away in her room, and begins to undress, starting with her coffee stained sweater. She tugs it off over her head then tosses it away, to clean it up later. Her skirt is the next to go. Wanda wiggles out of it as she stops by the shower, stretching inside to turn the hot water on. As it begins to heat up, she steps out of her black skirt, kicks it aside, then finds a place to sit on the edge of the pale ceramic tub.

Her stockings are ruined again, from the coffee and from the late start Wanda had this morning. She slept in too late, ripped her stockings pulling them on and didn't realize until she got to work. Wanda peels them off slowly, rolling the black material down to her ankles before she steps out of them and discards them into the sink.

The water is steaming hot when Wanda steps into the tub. She reaches past it, twists the handle on the cold water, then waits a minute before she steps underneath it. Within seconds she feels better, she feels clean again. Wanda stays for a while, scrubbing the memory of the day away from her skin. The hot water rinses it all away. When she's done she steps out of the shower, wraps a fluffy towel around herself, and then returns to her room to find comfortable clothes to wear for the night.

It only becomes clear to Wanda when she's back in her room that the boys aren't watching TV anymore. She stops by the end of her bed for a moment and listens to the little noises from outside of her door, that sound like Pietro and Clint cleaning up their little mess. She spends a minute thinking about it before she moves on, wrapping herself up in a soft red sweater and a pair of baggy black pants. When she's done she takes a seat at the vanity and combs the knots out of her hair, while trying not to think about the dirty stockings rolled up in the sink.

Today felt endless, and now that she's home she doesn't want to spend another minute thinking about any of it. Wanda finds that it's not hard at all to forget about it. She leaves it all behind as she steps out of her room and back into the apartment, that is a little less messy now. The dirty dishes are clean and drying on the sink, the pile of clothes is gone, and all the groceries are packed away. There's even a vase of new flowers sitting on the table for Wanda, next to a freshly poured glass of red wine. Her first thought is that it is sweet, her next thought is of Bucky and the bunch of flowers he gave her last night.

Wanda almost smiles thinking of the walk home and the moment Bucky gave her the flowers. She doesn't dwell on it for long and soon reaches for the glass of wine, carrying it with her over to the TV, to where Clint and Pietro are relaxing, comfortably spread out on the two couches. Clint is stretched out on the smaller couch, a bottle of beer in one hand and a bunch of M&Ms in the other. He pops several into his mouth just as he sees her, then he quickly tries to speak, which doesn't work with a mouth full of chocolate lollies. He swallows them too quickly, it looks painful, and then he smiles like he didn't just jam a whole bunch of M&Ms down his throat.

"Hey. Hey, you." he smiles. "Big day?"

She nods, quickly walking out into the small space.

"You don't want to know."

At the sound of her voice, Pietro glances up from where he's reclined on the bigger couch, the soft green one that's always been his favorite. When he realizes she's coming to join him, he moves the bowl of lollies aside, putting them down on the table next to his wine. Wanda settles in next to him easily, tucking her feet up underneath her and placing her glass of wine down next to his. She swaps her wine for one of the fluffy pillows on the floor and props it under her head, letting out a quiet sigh once she's comfy. She's really not that tired it's just been a long day, and it all felt a little bit worse because of last night.

Wanda doesn't want to talk about any of it right now. She just wants to sit here with the two of them for a while and let herself be distracted by their company. Whenever she's around them she feels better, and tonight this feels like exactly where she's meant to be.

"It was that bad?" Pietro asks, turning towards her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, no. I'm okay. What are we watching? It looks familiar, I think."

It looks like another one of the movies the boys watch, the ones she often falls asleep in.

Smiling, Clint pauses the movie. "Alien vs. Predator. A classic. And don't worry, we'll take care of dinner tonight. You just put your feet up. How's that sound?"

Perfect, she wants to say, almost does. But before she can say a word, her brother is speaking again.

"Did something happen at work? You don't seem like yourself."

Wanda turns to her brother slowly, taking it all in. His eyes are heavy with an obvious concern that she wishes wasn't there. She sees it in Clint's gaze, too. He's worried that something is wrong, he even thinks he knows what it is, and Wanda wishes he didn't have to carry it. Soon, she promises, both herself and Clint. Soon she will tell Pietro all of it but not yet, not tonight.

"No, nothing happened. It was just one of those days. You know how people can be. I'm sorry I'm late, and that I interrupted your movie."

By her side, Pietro reaches out to squeeze her shoulder.

"You are being silly. You didn't interrupt, you never do. Please stay, for as long as you like. We missed you."

A second later Clint leans forward, a sweet and playful smile on his face. And she appreciates it, appreciates his efforts to make things lighter, make them feel better, even if he's still carrying that look in his eyes long after it's gone from Pietro's.

"He's right, you know. We love your company. Also we need you around, for your moderately decent jokes and comebacks. Without you we fall apart."

It makes Wanda smile, makes her feel better than she has all day, thanks to them. She's about to say this, to let them know that she's thankful for their company, when Clint puts his bottle of beer aside and jumps to his feet.

"I'm gonna wash up and get us some dinner. Then I'll come back and we can get back into the movie. Like I said, Wanda..It's a classic. Try not to fall asleep this time."

With a smile, Clint leaves them. He leaves so suddenly, as if he's somehow aware that the two of them need a minute. He's right, they do.

"You're sure you are okay?" Pietro asks, wiggling closer. "If something is wrong, you can tell me. You can tell me anything."

His words take her back to that night, to the cuts on her palms and the graze on her thigh. Wanda remembers the moment Pietro came to her door, how he tried to be there for her, tried to help without even knowing she needed it. The regret builds up inside of her thinking about it. She almost wishes she could go back and change it. If she could maybe she'd open the door, maybe she'd find a way to let him in.

"You must worry less, brother. I'm fine, okay? I promise."

At first he doesn't seem so convinced, and Wanda doesn't blame him. She understands why he must be struggling with this. For the last few weeks she hasn't really been herself. She knows it's more than that, more than just a few weeks that she hasn't been herself. It's been a long time and she knows that her brother has seen it, that he's always more aware than he lets on.

"What? You are thinking about something. What is it?"

Pietro shrugs, looking away and then right back to her. In his eyes there's something that Wanda catches, something that tells her this has been on his mind for a while and he's only just found the words to share it with her tonight.

"You are so strong. But you do not..Let me be close, not always. Yes? I worry." he sighs, stretching out to hold her hand. "I worry you are alone, or that you think you are. But I am here. You are never alone. And it hurts to think this because I love you and I don't want you to ever be alone."

The words won't come. Wanda feels stuck, torn between being here with her brother and getting lost in all the thoughts running around in her head. Wanda wants to be here, wants to tell him all of it. He is sitting with her now in a moment that is so sweet, so vulnerable, and she wants to let him in. But in the end she can't, the words get stuck, they still won't come.

I am not afraid, she wants to say, she almost does. I am not afraid but I almost was. For a moment there, I was. It stays on Wanda's mind as she takes both of her brother's hands, kisses them, then squeezes them both tightly, not letting go. For now she wants to hold on, wants to feel him close to him, for just another minute.

"I promise, okay? I promise that I am fine. And I promise that I'm not alone. How could I be?" she asks, squeezing his hands again. "With the two of you always here, making terrible jokes and annoying me. How could I ever be alone?"

"Ah, stop. You don't mean this. You love us." he says, bumping his arm into hers. "That is what you meant to say, isn't it? You love us and our jokes, even if Clint's are very bad."

"I maybe don't love the jokes. But I do love you."

With a squeeze, Pietro lets go. He stays close after, looking much happier now than he did just minutes ago. He is happy to hear her promises, to know that she is okay and that it was just one of those days. But there's still something Wanda catches, a look in his eyes, that tells her they aren't done here yet.

"And Clint?" he asks soon, quieter this time.

Wanda frowns a little, only glancing away to reach for her wine. She has a sip then turns back to Pietro, curious.

"What about Clint?"

Her brother shrugs, then pops a handful of M&Ms into his mouth. "You love him, too. Don't you? I mean, the way you are with him, I know that you like him. You like him better than my other boyfriends, don't you?"

When Wanda looks up at her brother, she notices something else in his eyes, something new. With just one look she already feels like she knows what it is, where this is going, but she decides to wait for him to say it.

"Yes, but that isn't hard. I didn't like any of them." she answers, holding his gaze. "Clint is much nicer than they were. So yes, I like him. Why are you asking me this now?"

"Because I am in love with him. And I wanted you to love him, too." Pietro confesses, smiling slowly. "Not like I do. But maybe one day you could love him like he is family. What do you think?"

It comes as no surprise to Wanda that her brother is in love. He has dating Clint been for a while now, and right from the start Wanda could see it. She always knew that they were perfect for each other, that it was a special kind of love. The good kind of love that keeps you warm and makes you happy. Wanda can see it on her brother's face, that it is this kind of love and that it has been for some time now. He is happy, and in love, and it fills her with such happiness to see him like this.

"So it is like that? It is that kind of love?"

Pietro smiles, small at first. "Yes, I think so."

"You think so? Of course it is. Don't be silly." Wanda sighs, nudging his arm gently. "I know that it is, from the way he is around you. The way you are around him. I think anyone with eyes could see the way you make each other happy. He loves you. And you love him. It is perfect."

Smiling, Pietro leans in to kiss Wanda's cheek. Then he pulls away, reaching for her hand again. Wanda smiles back at Pietro as she watches him, trying to remember how happy and filled with love he is right now. She never wants to forget.

"You are so kind, Sestra. And so sweet. I'm glad you are here tonight." Pietro smiles, squeezing her hand. "I don't know what this movie will be like, but I have a blanket to hide under if we get scared. As you know, Clint laughs at me when we watch these movies. But he gets scared sometimes, too. He just pretends that he doesn't, but I know the truth."

"Really?" she grins, getting comfy on the couch again. "This doesn't surprise me. That sounds just like Clint."

"I know. That is why it's good you are here tonight. We can pretend not to be scared together."

Still smiling, Wanda leans up and kisses her brother on the cheek. Then she settles in back into the couch next to him, ready to watch the movie, to forget all about her bad day and spend the night with the two of them. She already feels better, already forgets whatever else was on her mind. Now she is only happy for the two of them, happy to be around them for a night.

"Ne brini, brate." Wanda says, seconds later. "Ja cu te zaštititi."

Do not worry, brother, Wanda tells him, another promise, a promise she believes this time. I'll protect you.

It's just after 11:30 when the text from Bucky pops up on her phone. Wanda is back in her room, painting on a new canvas by the window, when her phone buzzes on the nightstand and she realizes who the text is from. It surprises her a little to hear from him so soon, and then she realizes it's been a day since she heard from him. A long day of little accidents and a perfect night spent with the two people she cares most about in the world. So she really isn't hearing from him soon, it just feels like it, feels like the hours flew by until now.

She doesn't expect the message, not after last night, not after the way they left things. It surprises her even more how casual the text is and for a minute she wonders if he meant to send it to her.

[11:37 PM]:

hey. any chance you're still up?

If he meant to send the text to her, then he did it for a reason. Wanda doesn't want to say no, doesn't want to lie, because if Bucky needs someone to talk to the way she needed him that night then she wants to be there for him. But before she texts Bucky back, Wanda decides that she needs a drink. She brings her phone with her to the kitchen, pours herself a glass of wine, and carries it out to the fire-escape. Darcy's apartment is quiet tonight, it doesn't sound like anyone is home.

The thought makes Wanda decide to leave a note for Darcy on her door, to make plans to meet up later in the week. Wanda enjoyed the afternoon they spent together, it was fun and filled with possibility, something she hasn't felt in a while. With that on her mind, Wanda settles in on the fire-escape and drinks a few sips of wine. Seconds later her phone lights up again with another new message. From Bucky. And it shouldn't surprise her but it still does. After what happened between them on Sunday, the last thing she expects is for Bucky to be this way with her.

So open, so honest.

[11:45 PM]:

you haven't left my mind since last night. Can we talk?

In the quiet, she hesitates. Wanda's fingers hover over her phone as she thinks about what to say back to Bucky. She can't lie, can't tell him that she's busy when she isn't, and she can't avoid him. She doesn't even want to.  He was there for her on a night that she needed it, so if he needs someone to talk to tonight she wants to be that person for him, despite the way she feels from how they left things. Wanda's not really sure how she feels when she thinks about last night. The kiss, the words, the way she left. She's not embarrassed, and she's not really upset by it. She read the signs wrong, that was her fault. But she's not angry about it, and she doesn't want Bucky to think that he did something wrong by not feeling what she felt. She doesn't want any of that.

He made her smile and laugh when she thought it would be impossible, when no one else could. And if that's all this is between them, if he is only ever someone to talk to, and if that's all she is to him, then she wants it. Wanda wants to be his friend, to be there when he needs someone to talk to. She doesn't want what happened to change things between them.

Last night struck a painful nerve with Wanda, not because of what he felt but because of how it made her feel. The more that she thinks about it now, the more she realizes why it hurt so much. She's always had it in her head that Bucky was similar to her, even if it was only small it was there and it connected them. So after hearing him say he didn't deserve anything good after what he'd done, it got to her. It's why she left, why she ran away from him.

She doesn't want to run away again.

[11:51 PM]:

I'm here. Can I call you?

Wanda only waits a minute before Bucky sends a text back. Then another two. She's drinking her glass of wine when the first message comes through, followed immediately by two more, and at first she's mostly just surprised because this isn't really where she expected the night to go. She reads the messages two or three times before it really sinks in that he's here, that he came back.

[11:52 PM]:

i was in the area, im downstairs

[11:52 PM]:

shit i hope this isn't weird

[11:52 PM]:

im in the lobby. Didn't want to come up if it wasn't ok

She types and deletes her reply to Bucky too many times. Wanda doesn't know what to say, once again she can't find the words. She thinks about going downstairs to meet him, but after that? She doesn't know what comes after that, she really wasn't expecting to see him here tonight, maybe not ever again. Wanda spends a few minutes out on the fire-escape thinking it over. She stays until she finishes her wine, and even after that she waits another minute, then finally she makes herself get up and go back inside, where she rinses her glass of wine in the sink, leaves it to dry, and then quietly slips away into her bedroom.

The boys are in their room, sleeping peacefully. They crashed early, since they both have early shifts and it's Pietro's last week with his old job. For now, she can't think about that. Wanda forces it from her mind and searches through the darkness in her room, for a pair of shoes and something to pull on over her sweater and pants. She pulls on a thick green coat and zips it up, then finds a pair of boots near the end of the bed and slips them on.

The last thing she does before she leaves is make sure she's got her keys, since she really doesn't feel like waking either of them up to get back into the apartment. Wanda tucks her keys into her coat, along with her phone, and slips out of the apartment silently. She's quiet as she closes the door behind her, and once it's firmly shut she lets out a breath and glances out at the corridor. It's empty, always is at this time.

It doesn't take her long to reach the lobby, only two flights of stairs. And then she sees him. She sees Bucky waiting on one of the armchairs in the lobby, a newspaper curled up in one hand, his phone in the other. He's bouncing his knee up and down, as if he's nervous, as if he's waiting for Wanda to text back and tell him to leave. She doesn't want that, she never did. She only wanted him to stay if that was what he wanted, and right now he looks like it is what he wants.

For a minute he doesn't know that she's here, or if he does he doesn't look up. He stares ahead, gaze flickering between the open space of the lobby and the round clock on the wall. Then he hears it, the creak in one of the last stairs, and he turns up to look at her. When he spots her, he seems hesitant, unsure. Then he gets up from his seat, leaves the curled up newspaper behind, and takes a step over to her.

He still seems unsure, if he should stay, if he should go, but he comes closer anyway, stopping at the bottom of the stairs, as if he still isn't sure if he should walk up them yet. Wanda wants to tell him yes, come closer, come upstairs. But for now she stops where she is, glancing him over in a quick and subtle way, before meeting his gaze. He's in the same black jeans, but the jacket is different. Dark green, with a few patches sewn into the sleeves. It looks old but still nice. It looks like a few of the many things that Wanda has kept over the years, even if they've started to fall to pieces. She kept them because of the memories, and she can tell from just looking at Bucky's jacket that he wears it for the same reason.

It means something to him, and so does this. It's clear from the look in his eyes. It's small but it's there. It's even there in the way he looks at her, how he lets out a breath, glances around the empty lobby, then right back to her. Wanda can't get a read on him, not from where she stands, not tonight, but if she had to guess she'd say right now his mind is filled with thoughts just like hers.

"Sorry if you were busy. Or sleeping. I was just.." Bucky pauses, voice low but warm still. "I was in the neighborhood. So I thought I'd drop by at this totally normal hour. This is when people usually visit each other, right?"

Wanda almost smiles, at his sweet attempt to make things lighter, less awkward. It still feels awkward though, for both of them. She's not sure why he looks so tense, so different, even just the way he's standing is different to the way he was last night. He looks like a different guy, from the one she shared burgers and shakes with in a busy diner. She wants to go back, she realizes that now. Back to that moment, to any moment but this one where he almost feels like a stranger again. She doesn't want him to feel that way, she doesn't want any of this.

"Yes, I think this is what people do." she pauses, glancing him over. "I don't mind that you're here. But why are you here? Did you come all of this way just to say that? Or is there something else on your mind?"

There's a long pause after this, where Bucky says nothing, just thinks it over, and in the quiet she begins to think that this will be it. He will walk away now, or he will say nothing at all and she will be the one that has to walk away. In the end he doesn't walk away. Bucky sighs, steps up onto the stairs, then leans against the railing.

"Yes and no. Is it okay if I come up? It's not really something I wanna talk about out here."

Her instinct it to say yes, to invite him up to her room, to the fire-escape, where they might share another drink and a cigarette. But with her brother and Clint both asleep, it doesn't feel like a good idea, not when there's a chance they might wake up and find them. This isn't something Wanda feels like explaining to anyone else right now. She wants to keep their talk, she wants to keep all of this, just between the two of them. From the way Bucky is looking at her right now, she knows he wants the same thing. He's looking for somewhere private to talk, and she's not sure her apartment is the right place. But she knows another place that might be perfect.

"You can't come up. My brother and Clint are upstairs, already asleep. So you can't come up. But if you want, you can come up to the rooftop."

Two or three different looks come and go on Bucky's face before he settles on an answer. He seems more relaxed, happy even, to know that Wanda is here and that she wants to talk, wants to find a place where it's just the two of them. She feels more relaxed, too. Less tense, less awkward. She doesn't want to feel that way around him again, not when things were so easy last night.

"The roof?" he hesitates, almost smiling. "Oh, I don't know."

Wanda lifts an eyebrow. "Scared of heights?"

"No, no. Not that. I just, I don't know. The roof? It sounds kinda threatening, you know?"

And he's back to being himself. Wanda hides a smile, as she rolls her eyes and takes a step back up the stairs. For the minute he stays where he is, a hand gripping the railing, the other tucked into his jacket. His gaze follows her closely, and it's only now as he looks up at her that she lets herself think about him, about the way that he looks tonight. He seems tired, despite his smile and the faint spark in his eyes. He looks weary, like he's had a long day, or not enough sleep. Maybe both. She feels the same way but says nothing, not wanting to say anything unless he does. She understands what it's like, the hard days, and how sometimes the best thing to do is talk about anything else.

"I think we both know you can handle yourself." Wanda points out, folding her arms gently across herself. "And I also think we both know you are being just a little dramatic, aren't you?"

"Dramatic?" he asks, feigning shock. "I've never been accused of that in my entire life."

Then he smiles. It's more like a half-smile, small and uncertain, almost there, almost gone, before finally it appears. And it looks lovely. Beautiful, and sweet, and filled with uncertainty, but not the tense kind. He seems more relaxed but he still hasn't moved. From where he stands, leaning against the railing, Bucky looks like he's considering joining her at the top of the stairs, but he still doesn't come closer, doesn't take a step. He stays where he is, like he wants her to be certain that she wants this, that she wants him to come up.

"You can come upstairs if you want to." Wanda tells him quietly. "It isn't up to me what you do. If you want to come, then come."

He lets out a breath, smile still faintly there.

"You sure you want me to? I didn't mean to interrupt your night."

"You didn't interrupt anything." she's quick to say. "And yes, I do. I will meet you on the rooftop in five minutes?"

Bucky lingers, still unsure, for the briefest moment. Then he smiles and walks up the stairs to join her side, and as he comes to stand next to her she can't fight the pull she feels, back to the night they walked the streets together, how they felt like old friends telling stories and jokes. She wants to go back to that, and if talking with him tonight about what's on his mind helps then that's what she wants to do. It's what she has to do, because even though this is new and still so fragile, so small and uncertain, she knows that she doesn't want to lose it.

"Thank you, Wanda. For meeting me. For giving me the chance to explain myself. I really appreciate it."

Now she is the one who is quiet, the one who can't say a word. She's not sure why, but just hearing Bucky say her name leaves her feeling like this. She can't remembering ever hearing him say it before. If he has, it's never left her feeling like this before. She stays quiet, just nodding a little before she turns and leaves Bucky behind, to fetch drinks for them and maybe cigarettes. In just a minute she's back inside her apartment, thinking about Bucky outside on the stairs, wondering if he is still there or if he is out on the street, walking away again. That thought prompts new questions, like if he were out there, would she run after him again? She knows the answers, she thinks she's known it for a while.

Yes.

Wanda tries to ignore the thoughts of him as she gathers a few things together. First, her cigarettes. Then two bottles of beer from the fridge. But as she moves through the mostly dark apartment, she can't stop thinking about him and where he is now—and this time she doesn't imagine Bucky out on the street, walking away, walking home. She doesn't think about running after him, chasing him where he doesn't want to be followed, because there's a part of her that knows he didn't leave, so she imagines him where he really is. She imagines him walking up to the roof and waiting for her. Alone, and quiet, staring up at the sky and the distant stars hanging above it all.

She wants to go to him now, this is all she knows. But first, she needs a cigarette. Her hands are shaking. Why? She doesn't know, or she tells herself she doesn't know when really she does. It's Bucky, it's whatever he brings out in her. It's what she feels in his presence. Something new, and undiscovered, and good. It's always been that way, always felt good, from the first moment they met. It why she feels shaky, at the thought of losing something they didn't even really have.

Quietly, she opens up the window in the kitchen and sits down by it. She should leave, she should go up to the rooftop where Bucky is waiting for her, but she can't yet and she thinks she knows why. It's because of why he's here, what he wants to talk about. Not the kiss, not the last words they said to each other. It's what he might want to say, what he might want to tell her.

She is quickly filled with doubts about what he wants, why he came all this way to talk to her. The heaviest of all is this doubt: what if he doesn't want to see her anymore? Not even as friends? Wanda inhales on the cigarette slowly, closing her eyes as a small gust of wind sweeps through the window and blows across her face. She can't put it off, but for just a few more minutes she can sit here and enjoy her cigarette, only tonight she doesn't really enjoy it.

It tastes different. It doesn't help. Wanda stands, stubs it out in a bowl by the window, then grabs her keys and phone. The last thing she picks up on her way out are their drinks. With the two bottles firmly in her grip, Wanda steps out of her apartment, locks the door, then spends a minute standing in the corridor, hands still a little shaky. Then the moment passes. She thinks of Bucky waiting for her on the roof, as nervous and as filled with doubt as she is, and that's all it takes for Wanda to feel better, to remember that she wants to do this, she wants to be up there with him. So after a minute of hanging around in the corridor, she leaves to join him.

It only takes Wanda a few minutes to join Bucky on the rooftop. The path is familiar, she's followed it before. She takes the elevator up to the top level of the building then follows a small narrow stairwell up to the roof, where she's spent many nights sitting on her own, staring up at the sky. It's usually busy, she keeps to herself, but some nights it's not busy and it stays empty for a while. Wanda likes those nights. She thinks about them now, and the space on the rooftop that she used to spend so much time in. It's large and wide, with comfy chairs, splashes of color and art, and so much green placed throughout it. She loves the plants, loves growing things up here. She hasn't for a while but just being up here reminds her of the days she used to spend hours up here, tending to flowers and plants, watching them thrive and grow.

She's not here to think about that tonight. She's here to find Bucky, and she does that easily. The moment she pushes open the door to the roof she finds him, staring out at the city like she imagined he might be. He's leaning against the ledge comfortably, looking as if for a moment he is calm. She wants it to stay like this, almost wants to leave him, but he must hear the door open because he glances over his shoulder and finds her standing there, a packet of cigarettes tucked underneath her arm and a drink in each hand. He smiles when he sees her.

"This place is nice, red. Thanks for inviting me up here."

Wanda nods, quickly walking over to join him by the ledge. She places their drinks down on the sturdy brick then leans against the ledge next to him. She soon follows his gaze out to the city; to the cars, the skyline, and all the pretty lights. For a minute she thinks about how easy it is to get lost in it all, but she can't do that tonight. Maybe later, she decides. Right now she needs to stay here, needs to stay with him, because it's not always easy to get out of her head after she slips away into her thoughts. She can't lose herself to them tonight, she won't, not when he is here with her for a reason.

"It was the least I could do." Wanda pauses, still staring out at the sky. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah, I did. I do. And I'm sorry, I know I could've just called—well, after.." he stops, reaching for his beer. "I don't know. Like I said, you were on my mind. Since I left on Sunday night, all I've thought about is you. So I just felt like we should talk."

A minute later, he takes the lid off his beer and swallows a large mouthful. He's still nervous, she realizes. His hands aren't shaking, not like hers were. And he doesn't really show that he is nervous, not in the same way that she does. Bucky hides it well but she can see it now, that he needs a drink, needs something to take the edge off, as Clint would say. Wanda needs it, too. She quickly takes the lid off her drink, swallows some, then places it down on the ledge again.

"What's on your mind, James?"

She asks this when she already knows the answer, or at least she thinks she does. It was last night, that little moment, the way they left it. Wanda remembers it all now, remembers the moment she walked away. She remembers the way he tasted, too. And how it felt, to kiss someone, to kiss him, after so long. She realizes now that she hasn't really let herself think about it, and even now there's something inside of her, something tired, trying to stop her from thinking about it now because she's been hurt before. She can't really think about that tonight, she can't think about the kiss, so she distracts herself again.

"You were right. You know, last night. The things you said to me.." Bucky pauses, staring down at the cars going by. "You didn't read things wrong. Between us, I mean. Shit, I'm terrible at this stuff. You know? I was just surprised, you know. Because we talked and you said you weren't looking for complications, and I am just a big, walking talking complication."

There's a pause. He takes a long sip of beer, then another, before almost turning to look at her. The cars must be really interesting, or he must be buying himself some time, trying to avoid her gaze. So she tries not to look too closely, tries not to make him feel any pressure to answer, to say what is clearly so difficult, so personal for him. She just wants it to be easy for both of them. It's why she turns away, why she doesn't push him to speak. She leaves him until he's ready and eventually he is.

"I think maybe that was the problem, you know? I let myself think about it. But I felt like I had to, because I meant what I said. I meant a lot of what I said. I can't take it back, I won't. You were right, and so was I."

She turns to him now, even though she doesn't want to stare too directly, even though just a minute earlier she made the decision to give him space. Wanda can see it back in his eyes now. That familiar doubt, about this, about all of it. He still doesn't think he deserves anything good. He still believes that he is too messy, that he doesn't deserve good things. Wanda doesn't know if she can convince him that he does, maybe that isn't why she's here. And maybe it isn't why he's here. Maybe he just needs someone to talk to, someone to be there while he gets what he needs to off his chest.

"What were you right about?" she asks soon.

The city lights glow in Bucky's eyes when he turns to look at her. He is closer now, he is allowing himself to be closer, and Wanda welcomes it. Not just because it feels like he's letting her in, letting her be closer than he did last night, but also because of the way it feels to look into his eyes and to briefly get lost in all the lights bouncing in and out of them. She thinks that if they had the time, she could spend hours staring into his eyes.

"I'm complicated, Wanda. And you're not looking for complications, remember? But for a second there, I wanted to tell myself it'd be alright. I wanted to believe that it didn't matter, what I'd done, who I was. Just so I could kiss you again. But it matters. It does. It's always gonna matter, and it's always gonna be there."

It doesn't have to be, she wants to say, wants to believe. For both of them. She wants to say this, wants to say so much more than she has, but the words get stuck in her throat. She can't get them out, can't say a thing. She can only stay quiet, watching as Bucky drinks half of his beer before he slides the bottle away and turns to look at her again.

"I was just trying to do the right thing. I'm still trying to do the right thing." he admits, quieter this time. "Because I don't always get to do the right thing. But I try."

Wanda takes in a breath, tempted to look out at the city, or maybe up at the stars. Anything but Bucky. He is suddenly too close and she doesn't know what to say, or how to tell him something that he doesn't want to hear right now. Maybe this isn't something that is going to happen in one night, she realizes. He might need time, to hear it over and over again. If he'll let her, Wanda will be that person for him. She will be there to remind him of the good that she's seen in him, not just last night but at the market and then again at the park.

If he lets her in, she'll stay for as long as he needs.

"Why are you here tonight, James?" she asks, forcing herself to sound soft, softer than she's been in the past. "I don't understand why you are here, why you came all this way, to tell me something I have heard before. I know what you think, that you are right. That you are complicated. I remember. Why else did you come?"

Half a second later he takes two steps back from her, away from the ledge, from the almost finished bottle of beer sitting on top of it. Bucky steps away, sighs, and lifts his head up to the sky, as if he is deep in thought. She wonders if he's thinking about leaving, if that's why he's closer to the door, but there's something about the look he gives her when he tilts his head away from the sky that tells her that he isn't even thinking about walking away, not yet, not until they've talked about whatever is clearly still on his mind.

"You were right, too. That's why I'm here." Bucky says, dragging his gaze back down to hers. "That, and a couple other reasons. But mostly that."

Slowly she follows his movements, not wanting to startle him, to come too close too suddenly.

"What was I right about?" she asks. "What part?"

A flash of something fills his eyes. Something brief and uncertain. He wants to leave, she can see it. She recognizes it, she's felt it before. She thinks she even feels it right now, buried underneath the need to be here, to stay with him and to listen. Wanda thinks she'll always feel it, always hear that voice in her head telling her run. But she doesn't listen to it, and if Bucky hears that voice tonight then he chooses to ignore it, too.

"You were right," he pauses, his jaw tightening. "When you said that we're all messy. You were right about that."

Wanda wants to take a small step closer, she almost does. It would be so easy, just to walk over to him, to come close, to hold him. Why does she want that? She doesn't know, but she imagines it would feel nice for both of them. There's something in his eyes that tells her that he might like it, to be held, to feel a pair of arms wrapped around him. But for the moment she can't move, can't take a step closer, not even for that.

"I still don't understand why you came all of this way."

He paces, taking two steps away and then coming back to her. Only to do the same thing again a minute later.

"Maybe I can't do it." he says, looking up at her. "Maybe I can't convince myself not to be around you, even if I know I'm gonna hurt you."

You won't, she wants to say. And he knows it. This time he's the one who reads her. She doesn't let him get close, but he gets in anyway. He sees it, she can tell. Bucky comes closer, only a few steps, but after he put that distance between them earlier she welcomes the temporary closeness. He stops before he gets too close and he just looks at her, as if he knows what is on her mind, as if he somehow has the power to get into her head and know exactly what she is thinking right now. And she's never met anyone before who could do that.

"I will. Because I have, and I still do. I hurt people. I don't want to. I never want to, but it still happens."

Wanda sucks in a breath, while fighting the doubts and the memories that come back to her. She's hurt people before. She remembers all of it, and she is filled with regrets, but they all are. They've all hurt people, even if they never meant to, even if they made promises and swore they never would. She understands it, more than he realizes, what it's like to hurt people, to let them down and to lose them, to push them from her life completely. But now isn't the time to dwell on those memories or to get lost on them. She won't, she can't. She is here for him.

"We've all hurt people. That doesn't make you a bad person. We make mistakes, all of us. But we can learn from them."

He seems to take a minute to think about it, and as he does it becomes clear that he is fighting himself on this. Bucky wants to stay but he still wants to leave, maybe he will always want to leave. He is afraid but he wants to be here. He is the one who came here, who wanted to talk, to let her know that they were both right.

Bucky wants to be here but he is still afraid, still burdened by whatever he has been through, whatever he thinks he has done. She wants to know, and she hopes he will find a way to tell her. But for now Wanda only knows him from what she's seen when she's around him, and what she's learned when they've been around others.

At the market, he rushed to her side. He came to help, he gave her his blueberries, and picked up her broken flowers. She remembers the way he was kind and so calm about it all. It was the same at the park, when he helped her up and wiped the blood from her palms. He was so gentle, so soft about it all. From just these two moments, she learned so much about him: he is kind, and calm, and he likes to help people. He is sweet, and soft, and goes out of his way to do good things. And then she begins to think about Stark's party, the way his friends were around him, how they spoke about him and the look Bucky got in his eyes whenever they were around him.

He's loved, very much, by all the good people in his life. She can see it in their eyes and in his. Bucky is a good man, she has seen him do good things. And he is loved so dearly, he must be good, must have the sweetest heart. And she wants him to hear this, to know what she thinks, what she has seen, but not now. Tonight he is here to talk about what's on his mind, not what's on hers. Another time she'll tell him all of it and maybe then he might believe her.

"You don't know me, red. The things I've done, the things I've seen.."

Wanda's mouth opens then quickly closes, because there is so little she can say to that. She doesn't know him, not in the way she knows her brother, not even in the way she knows Clint. She doesn't know Bucky like she wants to, but she's on her way. She knows pieces about him, just as he knows pieces about her. From what she's seen, what she's learned, she can't imagine the side of him that he talks about but if it is there then she wants to know about it. She wants to know all of him.

"And you don't know me." she's quick to say. "Do you want to?"

Slowly his face softens and he takes a few steps towards her, closing the little distance that remained between them. Once it's gone, once he's standing just a step in front of her, it gives her a chance to see him again, to look at the little lines across his face, the colors in his eyes, and the tiny flicker of hope that nearly spreads across his face.

"Yeah, I do." Bucky says gently. "Of course I do. I can't get you off my mind, it's crazy."

She is quiet for a moment, while studying his face. He means it, she can see that. She can hear it in his voice, too. This thing, whatever this is, it's real for him and that's why he left. He had to leave, had to clear his head and spend a day to himself, but he came back. He's here because he wanted to come back, because he wanted to be honest with her, and she's glad that he did.

"You were on my mind today, too." she admits, before walking over to her beer. "James, this doesn't have to be.."

For a second she loses the words. Wanda walks to the ledge, picks up her beer and takes a small sip. She wants to tell him that this doesn't have to be whatever he thought it was last night. It can be what it was before that, when it was just the two of them eating burgers, drinking shakes, and making each other laugh. She wants that, and she wants him to feel the same way, to want to go back to that.

When she turns around she realizes Bucky is closer. He's almost all the way over to where she's standing, but he's stopped just a few steps away from her. There's a look in her eyes that tells her, once again, that he does want to be here and that he wants what they had last night. He wants it back, and so does she.

"This doesn't have to be something. It is just fun, isn't it? It is just two people getting to know each other, yes? I enjoyed that. And before I left, before you said what you did and I said what I did, I think that I was starting to almost like you."

Bucky's eyes widen slowly then he grins. "Really? You almost liked me? That's it?"

She smiles, leaning back against the brick wall. Bucky comes closer, still amused. And much more relaxed. He's almost back to how he was last night, before it was ruined. He is smiling, and there is a spark back in his eyes that was there last night. She smiles a little more just thinking about it.

"After that epic date I took you out on, with the best burgers in the city and the best company in the city..You're telling me all I get is that you 'almost' liked me?"

Wanda shrugs, tucking her arms around herself. "What can I say? You bragged too much, exaggerated often, and you insulted me throughout the night—"

"O-kay, I get it. I get it." Bucky laughs, reaching out to pat Wanda's shoulder. "I think we all get the point you're making here."

Afterwards, his hand lingers on his shoulder. She almost starts to like the feeling, then he drops it away. He stays close though, leaving just a step or two between them.

"Do you?" she asks, still smiling. "Get the point, I mean. That I was making..Before that one. You get it?"

He smiles, looks back to the city and then immediately back to her, as if the city and the sky no longer holds any interest to him and he is more interested in being here, being back with her. That's when she really believes it, really sees it, that this is his choice and that there is no where else he wants to be right now.

"Yeah, I do. I get it, or at least I think I do. I guess we'll see?" Bucky shrugs, then smiles sweetly. "This mean we're back to being almost friends? With a weird bunch of friends who are already close friends and have been for years. That sound alright to you?"

Wanda smiles, barely able to think about it before Bucky hugs her. It comes as a surprise but not a bad one, not at all. One minute he's just standing in front of her, hands tucked into his coat, looking at her but also looking away from her at the same time. Then he opens up his arms and she just eases into it, as if it was always leading them here.

The hug is brief but warm. Wanda shuts her eyes against his chest, as Bucky puts his arms around her, squeezes her tightly, then starts to let go. How? she wants to ask him. How can you not think you are good, when you are so sweet? He is kind, too. She knows why he is hugging her now, because he's been getting a read on her, just like she's been reading him. All night, she's been aware of the little things. His nerves, how he needed a drink, the way he looks out to the sky. And something tells her from the way he holds her now that he's been aware of the little things going on with her, like her quiet nerves and her uncertainty about all of this.

"You won't hurt me. I won't let you." she tells him, before he lets go. "And this, it doesn't have to be anything. Or it can be whatever we want it to be. How does this sound?"

Bucky shrugs a little as he pulls away. But after the hug is over he doesn't walk away, doesn't take a step back. He stays close, watching her as he smiles sweetly, playfully even.

"Yeah, sounds alright. Actually, it sounds pretty great. And hey, just so you know: I was starting to almost like you, too."