i know places

The first thing Wanda notices is the blood.

His face is mostly covered by shadows, and a hat, and the dark hood he's wearing to cover himself up—but when Bucky lifts his head and meets her gaze, from where he stands in the middle of the street, she sees it. Dark blood, sticky and fresh, trickling down the side of his face, from his temple to his jaw. Her chest tightens at the sight and she finds that even though she wants to come closer, to be by his side, she can't move. For a moment Wanda can't do much, she can only stay where she is, where she spent the last thirty minutes waiting for Bucky to show up for their date.

From where Wanda stands at the front of The Green Tides, she can read him well enough to know that he regrets this. Bucky regrets coming here tonight, maybe he even regrets last night. He is filled with so much doubt and regret right now and it's why he doesn't come closer, why he stays where he is on the busy path, watching Wanda through the crowds that pass by between them. And as he stares back at her, Wanda finds herself consumed with a longing to know why. (why is he bleeding, why tonight, why did the universe do this again). She doesn't dwell on the questions for long and quickly snaps herself out of it, forcing herself to be here with him now, to go to his side, because even if he regrets coming here tonight she doesn't.

She's glad that of all the places he could have gone, and all the people he could have gone to see, that he came here. He came to her, and in the end that's what stays with her. Bucky is here for a reason, even if he can't see it right now. She still can and it's why she makes the decision to stay here with him, to not walk away or watch him leave. Wanda stays, holding his gaze through the crowds for another minute before she navigates her way through them to get to him.

The closer she gets, the worse his face starts to look. It's just blood, she reminds herself. The wound itself could be small. It doesn't mean that it's bad just because there's a lot of blood. Wanda reminds herself this, three or four time, before she even reaches Bucky's side. When she gets close enough she takes him by the forearm and guides him away from the crowds, over to the side of the pavement where things are quiet and a little less chaotic. Once there she stops and lifts her hand to his face. She's surprised by how steady her hands are but doesn't let herself dwell on that though, instead she focuses on Bucky and what he needs from her.

Wanda is gentle as she lifts Bucky's jaw back, to get a clearer look at the blood smeared along his pale skin. She expects him to pull away but he doesn't. He stays there, eyes dark, expression still, as he lets her examine him. She doesn't need long, only a minute to look closer at his face and to discover that it came from a cut near his temple. It doesn't look big but it's hard to tell underneath all of the blood. She can't help herself from worrying about him, maybe more than she should for someone she really hasn't known for that long.

But it feels like she has, like it's been months, sometimes even years. It feels right, so she doesn't let herself question it.

"O moj Bože!" she whispers, glancing him over.

Her eyes follow the blood, down from the cut near his temple to where it's trickled down along his jaw and neck. She catches a glimpse of blood on the collar of his shirt before she swiftly looks up again, realizing now that he is watching her, that he is ready to leave and walk away from this because he thinks there is no other choice. She wants to show him that he's wrong, that she doesn't care that he showed up late for their date looking, but before she gets the chance to say anything Bucky speaks.

"I shouldn't have come. I shouldn't be here." he sighs, dropping his gaze down to the pavement. "I'm sorry, red. For showing up, for bringing you into this mess. I'm sorry for all of it."

She shakes her head, quiet, as she tries to decide what to do next. Hold him? It doesn't feel like he's looking for a hug, or for much, if any, physical comfort right now, so she settles on something simple. Wanda reaches out for Bucky's forearm, gently placing her hand there as a small gesture, meant to steady him, to show him that he's not alone. He startles a little at the touch but doesn't tense or pull away. His light-eyes flicker down to the spot, to where her hand is curled around the fabric of his jacket, before he looks back at her and a rush of conflicting thoughts and emotions come and go through his eyes.

"No, it's okay. It really is." Wanda promises softly. "I'm glad that you're here, that you're not alone. I'm glad you came."

Then she stops and lets herself think it over, lets herself consider what to do next. Wanda knows that she wants to help him, that she wants to take him somewhere they can be alone together, just the two of them. Then she can look after him, help him clean up, and he can tell her what happened. Her apartment is close but tonight it feels like it's too far away, like he's going to change his mind before they get there and leave because he thinks it's easier. The bar is right here, she realizes soon. There's a first-aid kit inside, a bathroom he can clean up in, and it will give them a chance to be alone together so they can talk and she can look after him.

Wanda thinks it's a good idea but she isn't so sure he will see it that way. Still, she tries anyway.

"Will you come inside with me, James?"

Bucky's quick to shake his head, as he takes a half-step back, followed by another. His gaze flickers between her and the busy bar, before eventually settling on her again. He won't come in, he can't. Something is stopping him, it's holding him back (from this, from her) but she still won't give up, not here and not tonight.

"Look, it's nothing. It's really nothing." he's quick to say. "I shouldn't have come. I didn't wanna bring you into this, I didn't mean to show up here. I don't know what I was doing. One minute I was calling you to cancel but you didn't pick up. So I got worried and I started walking here, then I saw you and I couldn't walk away."

"That's good that you came. That you wanted to come." Wanda says gently, taking a small step towards him. "Please come inside. You're hurt, and bleeding, and I can help. Let me help you. We can go in through the side-door, no one will see us. You can clean up in there. Let me help you. Please?"

And then she sees it, darting through his eyes. Stay or go. Stay or go. Wanda sees it so easily because she once felt it, because she often does. But she's also starting to know Bucky, better than either of them realized, and this is how she knows that even though there's a part of him that wants to go that there's still a part of him that wants to stay and that's why he hasn't walked away yet.

"No one will see us. We can go in together." she says soon, words soft, a quiet promise. "You can clean up, I can help you. Please, just come inside with me. We'll take care of it together."

He almost says yes, almost comes inside with her. Wanda watches as it happens, as he makes the decision to stay then changes his mind just seconds later, because in his heart he still believes that he knows who he is and he can't see it any other way.

"I shouldn't have done this to you." Bucky sighs, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. "I shouldn't have come here and put you in this position—"

"You didn't do anything, okay? You just showed up for our date. And we are still having that date, aren't we?"

Bucky blinks slowly but says nothing, instead he just watches her in that quiet way of his that lets her know that he is still considering it, that deep down he wants to stay. He still wants to go, maybe he always will, but there's a part of him that wants to stay and she hopes that he will listen to that part of himself and that tonight he will stay with her for as long as he needs.

"It means you will have to come inside and clean up." she adds, trying to smile. "You can use the bathroom, I can show you the way. Will you follow me?"

It feels like the seconds stretch on for minutes before he makes up his mind. Bucky ducks his head now, glancing quietly between the bar and Wanda, before something in his expression shifts. She knows what it means, what he will say before he even says a word, and it's all because of the weight she sees slowly slipping from his eyes. Whatever this is, whatever it was, he doesn't want to do it alone and he's letting himself feel that now.

"You sure you're not gonna get in trouble, red?"

His voice is softer this time, a little more vulnerable, and it makes her want to take his hand and hold him. She can't, so instead she just stretches out her hand and offers it out for Bucky to hold, if he wants to take it. She watches him distantly as he eyes off her hand, letting himself consider it, before his gloved fingers reach for hers and she feels herself let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

"It's fine, I promise. Just come with me?"

Bucky says nothing, just nods and holds on to her hand, following her as she turns to lead the way inside the bar, through the side-door that only the staff can get through. She takes Bucky inside through there and down to the small bathroom she was in half an hour ago, getting ready for their date. She doesn't let herself think about any of it, she just guides him into the bathroom and then leaves him there for the moment while she grabs the first-aid kit from the bar. When she returns she finds Bucky standing by the basin, gently washing the side of his face with a handful of water. One of his gloves is off, the other still on. He stops what he's doing for a second as the door swings open then he finishes up and turns to look at her.

"How does it feel?" she asks gently, words low, just for him. "Are you in any pain?"

Wanda closes and locks the door after she enters, joins him over by the sink, then sets the first-aid kit down there and turns to look at the cut on his face. It's only a small gash, she sees it now, feels relieved to get a clearer look at it and to know it isn't as bad as she first thought. It looks painful but not like it will need stitches, only a little antiseptic cream and maybe a bandage. But she won't really know until she gets a closer look.

"It really is nothing, you know. Doesn't really hurt." Bucky tells her soon. "I'm not just saying that to make you feel better, red. It's nothing. It's like a cat-scratch. I've had much worse."

Then he leans back against the tiled walls, briefly glancing her over before he looks out at the tiny space of the bathroom. Bucky hides it well but she can tell that he's struggling with this, whatever it is. He's quiet, and withdrawn, and he's struggling with the weight of it all. Wanda wants to help him but she doesn't know how, she doesn't even know if he will let her help. He's keeping the distance between them, trying to keep his walls up, because he still doesn't want to bring her into this. She wants him to know that it's okay, that she's a part of him, that she doesn't mind that this is a little messy. She wants to say this and more, but she ends up saying nothing about it. There will be time later to tell him this, to tell him everything.

"Still, it doesn't hurt to look. Does it?" Wanda asks, seconds later. "It is good to take a look, to clean it up, even if you think it is nothing."

A moment later she leaves Bucky's side, walking over to the sink where she left the med kit. Wanda opens it up and takes a small look inside, only realizing now that there's blood on her hands. She knows it's real, knows that it's his, from out on the side-walk when she first touched him. She only becomes aware of it now, of how sticky and familiar the sensation is on her palms. Wanda slowly stops what she's doing and leaves to grab a few sheets of paper from one of the empty stalls behind them.

Bucky watches her as she goes, lingering by the sink in the quiet that grows between them. Wanda returns swiftly, dampening the paper with a little water and then turning to Bucky to help him get cleaned up. When she turns to him he watches her for a second then sighs and lets his eyes slowly shut.

"Shit. I'm sorry."

For the moment she says nothing and takes a step closer to Bucky, wiping the blood gently from his jaw. It's only a small cut but it still looks painful, still looks like it's going to sting. But if it hurts he doesn't let it show, he just opens his eyes and watches her, tracking her movements as she helps him clean up.

Wanda only spends a few more minutes there before she's done soaking up the blood from the side of his face.

"There is nothing to apologize for." she says now, slowly looking up. "Will you tell me what happened?"

This time he doesn't hesitate, not at all.

"Nothing happened, red."

It's a lie and they both know it, but she doesn't know how to get any truths from him right now. He doesn't want to give it to her and she doesn't want to push, but she's still worried about him. She stays by his side for a little longer, wiping the rest of the blood away, and as she does she can't help but feel the memories seeping back in. From this night, from that one. If he is pain, he still doesn't show it. Bucky doesn't wince, or cry, or flinch from the pain. Not like she did that night, not like she still does sometimes when she finds herself drifting back there.

Wanda leaves him soon, walking over to the sink to clean her hands under the cold stream of water. His eyes follow her in the mirror but he says nothing, he just watches as she scrubs the faint smudges of red out of her palms.

"You're lying." she points out, still scrubbing her hands. "And you're not a very good liar."

"You don't wanna know, alright?" he sighs. "Trust me, it's better if you don't know."

"Yes, I do. That's why I asked, it's why I'm here."

It seems to surprise Bucky, enough that he lifts his gaze and looks at her. This time he really looks at her, as if he is finally listening, finally letting himself see that she might want him here, and that she might be here because this is exactly where she wants to be. Here, with him

"It was a fight." he admits.

"Another fight?"

"What can I say? Bad luck follows me." Bucky sighs, running a hand over his jaw, the uninjured side. "That, or there was this jerk and one thing led to another."

It was my fault, she remembers Bucky saying on the night of Stark's party, when they talked about the bandage on his hand. It was on me, he told her that night, and she remembers it as clearly as if he is saying it to her now. It's just that she didn't believe it then, that it was his fault, that it was on him, and she still doesn't believe it now.

"What happened with this jerk?" she asks, turning to look at him. "Did he start this fight with you? Why?"

He hesitates, thinking it over. "Well, sorta. He was staring trouble and I couldn't not step in, you know? I just couldn't walk away. I can never walk away."

"Mm. So you were doing something good?"

For a minute after this, he's quiet again. Wanda leaves him to it, returning to the kit to find the antiseptic cream. He watches her go and then return, and even as she starts to apply the cream to the cut he is quiet. It doesn't last for much longer after this, but while it does she finds that her mind is loud with thoughts. So many thoughts, so many questions. She keeps it all to herself, finishes taking care of the cut, then returns to the sink to wash her hands again.

"Yeah, I'm not so sure about that." he says minutes later. "It was a fight. I stepped in. But the way you say it, it isn't exactly.."

He loses the words, so she tries to find them.

"What? It isn't, what? You stepped in to stop trouble, didn't you?" Wanda lifts her head. "It was to stop someone from doing something wrong. Wasn't it? Then it is simple, it was the right thing to do."

"I think it's a little more complicated than that."

She's almost surprised by this, by the tone of his voice and the way he says it—and how he so obviously says it to push her away, to try to show her the man he thinks he is, not the man that she's sees him as. Wanda still doesn't believe it, doesn't see him the way he wants or needs her to, and that seems to bother him more. He's still just trying to protect her, and she wonders if it would be easier for him if she could see him the way he wanted her to, as someone messy and not deserving of good things. But she can't, she never could.

"Tell me how it is so complicated." she says, turning to face him. "It doesn't sound complicated. It sounds simple, really. Someone was doing something wrong, you stopped them. You did the right thing. You helped someone, James. How is this complicated?"

"Yeah, maybe I did. Maybe you're right. Or maybe I just used it as an excuse to beat the guy up."

Wanda stills, quiet for a moment. "He was hurting someone else?"

"Yeah. He was trying to. But it's not as simple as that. It's not simple at all."

She sees it again now, the doubt that lingers, the disbelief. Bucky still doesn't want to be convinced on this, he is so determined to see it through his eyes that he can't see it through hers, can't see it from any other side, and she realizes now that maybe this is what he needs, to see it from another side.

"It is simple, you just can't see it yet. Because you don't what it's like, to be on the other side." she says, coming closer. "You only see it from your side so you don't know what it means to the person you helped tonight. You don't know what it means to them but I do. You did the right thing. You protected someone else. How could that ever be wrong?"

Bucky takes a minute to think it over and she leaves him to it, to dwell in his thoughts and in the silence that grows between them. She doesn't push him, doesn't come close again, she just watches him as the understanding slowly filters into his eyes. It means something to him, it means more than she expects it to, and it's such a relief to think that he might be starting to see it differently.

"Yeah, maybe." he nods. "Maybe you're right, maybe in the morning..."

He trails off again but she somehow she knows where he was going and what came next. Maybe in the morning I'll see it differently, he thinks, and almost says, and she understands. She's been there before, she finds herself back there often, hoping that things will be different, and easier, and a little less painful in the morning. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

"Please hear what I'm saying. You did a good thing. And you're a good man. I know that, and I know you. So please, hear this."

Bucky considers it, lets himself hear it, and then he takes a step back. She leaves him, watching as he glances the room over another time then slowly looks back to her.

"I don't know, red. I don't know if you're right about this or about me. But I do know that I'm sorry about tonight. It was supposed to be different and I ruined it before we even got a chance to enjoy it. I'm sorry."

Her first thought is to comfort him and she wants to, she will. It just feels like he needs something else right now, something that will let him know that she is here, and that she wants to be, and that the night isn't over yet.

"So this is it? You're giving up and going home?" she asks, watching him from afar. "I didn't think you looked like someone who would give up this easily."

He's quick to glance up, lost again.

"What? You really wanna go out on a date with me after all of this? You're kidding, right?"

Wanda shrugs and walks over to the sink, swiftly packing up the first-aid kit. Behind her, Bucky lingers in the small space of them bathroom. She glances at him once in the reflection of the mirror then begins to pack everything up.

"All of, what? It was nothing. It was just a moment, it doesn't change who you are. And it doesn't mean the night is over. It was only a moment, that is all it ever has to be if that is what you want."

"Really?" his voice softens, then he joins her by the sink. "It's that easy?"

When she looks up at him, she catches something familiar in his eyes. Stay or go. She felt that same way, stood exactly where he's now standing, and asked herself that same question that he's asking himself now. She hopes that he will make the same decision that she did.

"It is, if you want it to be." she tells him. "If you wanted to start over and pretend this didn't happen, we could do that."

He frowns, coming closer as if he's trying to get a read on her, to understand why she wants to try again.

"Why would you even wanna do that? I'm not worth it. I know for a fact there's much better company in this city than me. You could probably walk out into that bar and find a better man—"

"But I don't want that. I don't want to find someone else to spend the night with."

Wanda says this when what she means is something else, but right now she can't find those words, for him or even for herself. Bucky seems to understand, in his own way, what she means, what she can't say. He finally lets himself hear it, that she is here because she wants to be and that if he wants to start the night over then she is willing to try.

"Are you sure?" Bucky asks moments later.

"Yes, I'm sure." she smiles, softer this time. "Let's go get something to eat, okay? Everything will feel better after a good meal and a drink, you will see."

* * * *

They end up back at Wanda's apartment sometime after 2, drunk on shots of beer and whiskey.

She doesn't remember how they get there, not really. Wanda remembers the night in pieces; drinking shots with Bucky between games of pool, laughing at his silly jokes, and playing a dangerous game of darts that almost ended up with one of them (him) accidentally getting a dart in a very painful place. That was his fault, she remembers that much. But how they get home, how she manages to pull Bucky away from every single bar or club they pass on their way that he kept trying to lure her into—one more drink, he promised, over and over again—well, it's all pretty much just a blur to Wanda. She decides that it will come back to her in the morning and she digs inside her purse for her key, aware of Bucky's presence behind her as they stand in the hallway outside of her apartment, both exhausted, both very drunk.

And both giggling like children, as Wanda struggles to get the key to fit into the lock.

It's really not funny, but she can't remember laughing this hard in a long time. She tries and tries but it doesn't fit, so Bucky comes over, gently takes the key, trying and failing at least three times before he decides to try and ram his shoulder into the door to budge it open. Wanda quickly stops him from doing that, because it's late and she doesn't want to wake anyone up, and because she knows she can get the key to work. So she takes the key, gets Bucky to stop trying to ram the door down, and she tries again. Three tries later, she realizes that it's the wrong key. They must spend five minutes standing at the apartment door, laughing about it, before finally Wanda shoves the right key into the door and it opens up.

Bucky holds the door open for Wanda, or he tries to, but he's a little wobbly on his feet so she insists he go inside first. She lets him through, a soft hand on his waist, as she guides him in the direction of the room then watches as he walks there on slightly shaky feet. Wanda waits until he's inside her room before she steps into the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water for the two of them. She then joins him, closing the door to her bedroom behind her after she steps inside.

It doesn't take her long to find Bucky, he hasn't gone far at all. He's still on his feet, standing in the small space between her bed and her bookshelf, like he's undecided on what he wants to do and can't make up his mind, if he will sleep or maybe read for a while. Wanda makes the decision for him. He is drunk, and it is late, and he needs to rest. So she places a hand on his back again and leads him over to her bed. He doesn't startle at the touch, he hasn't all night. He's grown used to it, to her. Bucky lets Wanda lead him to the bed and soon eases himself down onto the edge, stretching his legs out in front of him as his drunken gaze sweeps the room and then finds its way back to her, to where she stands just a few steps away from him.

She half-smiles then glances him over, thinking about the fastest way to get him in bed. He's still in his jacket and dirty boots, he can't sleep in those. There's blood on his jacket and those boots aren't going anywhere near her bed, so he'll need to take them off. She soon realizes that he's too drunk to do that and she decides to do it for him. She kneels on the floor, reaches for one of his boots, and starts to untie the laces, when Bucky's hand flies out and catches hers. She stops, not startled by the touch, just surprised. She welcomes it, as she looks up at him.

"Hey, no. No, you don't—it's okay, you don't have to do that." Bucky's quick to say, words quiet, slurred. "You're okay. It's okay, red. Really, it's good."

"It's nothing, really." she smiles. "I just want to help, so let me?"

Wanda's not sure what she expects, but of all the things that cross her mind—she doesn't expect Bucky to smile. It's odd, really, how something so simple means so much. It surprises her, but it's more that she just doesn't expect it, isn't really ready for it, because tonight he didn't smile all that much and whenever he did it was different. It never felt real, never felt like this. It's now that she realizes why that is. It's because here with her, alone in her room, he's comfortable. He's happy, less tense than he has been all night, and it's so nice to see it, to watch as some of the tension fades from his features.

"But you already did. You did." he points out, slowly smiling more. "You helped before. Remember? With my head, with all of it. You did that, red."

Then he trails off, losing the words again. This time Wanda doesn't try to find them, and he doesn't either. He stays where he is, watching her as she squeezes his hand once then lets go. She quickly kneels on the ground again, aware of his gaze, the way it follows her, how it lingers, as she begins to untie the laces on his boot and help him out of his shoes. He's staying the night, he's too drunk not to, and she doesn't mind, she just doesn't want his dirty boots in her bed.

"You already helped." Bucky says again, seconds later.

She lifts her head, smiling. "So?"

In his eyes she catches a glimpse of something new. Small, but new. He's starting to relax, starting to let himself see things differently. Bucky gets it now, that she wants to be here, that she wants to help, and if she didn't then he wouldn't be here and she wouldn't be either. They're both here for a reason, maybe even the same reason, and he lets himself see it now. It's there in his eyes and in the way his expression softens as he relaxes a little more.

"Let me help again?" Wanda asks, waiting.

Bucky sighs, conflicted. "You're just...You're good. You're so good, red. Too good. And I'm just.."

"And you are not so bad. Do you want my help or not?" she asks, moving to stand slowly. "You could always sleep with the boots on, but I am not sure it would be comfortable and I don't really want those dirty boots in my bed. So, you can let me help you out of them? Or you can sleep on the floor, if you like. It is your choice."

His smile returns, a little brighter this time. There's something else to it and it takes her a moment to realize what it is. He's vulnerable and she knows why. It's because of what he's been through, what he couldn't see until now. He's finally letting himself see that Wanda is here to help. He didn't know how to ask her, he still doesn't, but that doesn't change that he wants to be here and that's he's glad she's here with him.

"Don't worry, I was only teasing." she smiles, reaching for his hand to hold. "I will help you. Out of these shoes, and this jacket, and into bed. I don't mind, I am happy to help."

With her hand curled around his, Wanda tugs Bucky up from the bed and helps him out of his jacket. It's nice but it doesn't look all that comfortable to sleep in, and there's still blood on the collar of it, so it's better to take it off. She unzips it slowly and helps him out of it, watching Bucky as tries to stay both playful and defensive. He's becoming himself again, becoming a little more playful, and it feels so nice to see that side of him coming back slowly.

"What about the jacket?" he frowns. "You don't like the jacket? What's wrong with the jacket?"

Wanda shrugs, tugging it down his shoulders and helping him get his arms out of it. Then she places it aside on the dresser and turns around to find Bucky sitting on the bed again, in the same spot as before, but there's a different smile on his face this time. It's bigger, much brighter than it's been all night. She knows why it's there, she thinks it might have something to do with the way Wanda is trying to be around him. She wants to be the same, as they always are. To be light, to tease him, to let him know that this doesn't have to be a big thing if he doesn't want it to be.

"Nothing. There is nothing wrong with it." she smiles, almost rolling her eyes. "I like the jacket, okay? Don't be offended. It is a very nice jacket."

"It is a nice jacket. Isn't it?"

He's quiet again after this, thinking it over, thinking something over that he doesn't share with her. Wanda offers him another, softer smile, before she kneels on the floor again and starts to help him out of his boots. She begins by untying the laces on one boot, wiggling it free, then moving on to the other. When she's done she places both aside then stands, looking down at Bucky where he sits on the edge of the bed, still watching her. He looks like he wants to join her here. This is her first thought, when she lets herself look down at him. He waits to join her but he doesn't seem to trust his wobbly feet right now.

Or maybe he's happy where he is.

"You know what sucks? What really sucks?" Bucky asks. "I had plans for tonight. It was gonna be epic, I was gonna show you a good time tonight. Then I had to go and ruin it all."

Wanda hesitates, quiet as her gaze sweeps him over. He really believes it, that things were ruined, that it was his fault. She's quick to tell him how she sees it.

"Please, don't say that. You didn't ruin tonight, you didn't ruin anything. Don't be silly." Wanda sighs, coming closer. "I believe you when you say your plans were epic and I promise we will try again. So don't worry, okay? I have nothing on this week, only work. We will do your plans another night and I promise it will be more epic than you ever dreamed it could be."

Too much comes and goes through his eyes. Bucky ends up smiling again, it's small, barely there, but it's softer this time. It means something to him, this does, more than he can say or even really think about right now. He believes her, despite everything, and it means more to Wanda than she thought that it would. But still, the doubt remains. It lingers in the corners of his eyes, faded but still there, and she doesn't know if there's anything she can do to get rid of it tonight but she's not sure that it's up to her. Maybe it's up to him, to work through his doubts on his own and then come back to her.

"I just..I messed tonight up. Didn't I?"

Bucky says nothing else after this but he doesn't have to say a thing, she knows what he means. She hears it clearly, what goes unspoken between the two of them. I messed tonight up, like I was always do. She knows it is there, that it goes unsaid between them, but they are both aware of it. Wanda sees it written all over his face, that he's still carrying this, that he's going to need time to let this guilt go. Instead of trying to force him to let it go, or to see it differently, she tries to comfort him.

She reaches out for him like she did outside the bar, only it's different now. Wanda's hand ends up on his shoulder, soft, barely there, before she gives it a light squeeze and looks down at him, smiling again.

"We had fun tonight, didn't we? A little fun, I think. At the end there anyway." she says, watching his eyes light up. "We laughed a lot, remember? I can't remember laughing that much, not in a long time. So maybe it was not the night you planned but it was not so bad. It was almost good, wasn't it?"

His smile falters then returns, softer this time, and she knows why. Wanda knows that he isn't completely convinced on this but he's still trying to see it differently, still trying to believe what she's saying. He knows that she means it, he just needs time. She can give that to him.

"You're too good, red. You know that? You're so good. Too good." Bucky sighs, letting himself glance her over, closer this time. "You're a good person. A great person and a great friend. I don't know how I got so lucky meeting you. I just don't know."

Wanda feels the same, often finds herself wondering how or why. But tonight isn't the night to dwell on it. She wants to get lost in the words, to see this through his eyes and then through her own. She still doesn't know how she got so lucky to meet him all of those times but she can't let herself think about it tonight, because she will get lost in the thoughts and tonight isn't that kind of night. She wants to be here for him, and with him, because right now that matters more.

It's why she takes a step closer soon, nudging him in the arm with her closed fist. The touch is soft, playful, almost not there at all, but he smiles and rubs at the spot anyway.

"Hey."

"It wasn't luck, remember? It was your bike." Wanda points out, hiding a smile. "And before that, it was a jerk in the market. It wasn't luck, it was a bad moment that we turned into something good. And it is good, isn't it?"

This, us, whatever it is.

She knows it, believes it, more strongly than she's believed in anything in a long time. They may not have known each other for years but sometimes it feels like it, and even without knowing him for a very long time Wanda still believes, almost without doubt, that this is good. For her and for him. They make each other smile, and laugh, and they can find a distraction (sometimes even a moment of peace) when they're around each other. It's a good thing, and he's a good man, and she hopes one day she might be able to convince him of it.

"It is, yeah. And hey, listen, next time is gonna be good." Bucky smiles, moving to the edge of the bed. "We're gonna go for a ride in the city. I'll show you the places I was gonna take you tonight. And it's gonna be good, I promise."

"Don't worry, I know it will be good. It will be epic." she smiles, giving his shoulder another squeeze. "I am sure of it. You were right about the burgers that night, so I have a feeling that you will be right about this, too. You have nothing to worry about, okay? It will be good."

Then she turns to leave him, to wash her face and find something to wear to bed. But before she gets far, she stops. Bucky catches her hand, his warm fingers sending a jolt up her arm, and it's only now that she realizes one of his gloves is gone. The hand he's holding hers with isn't covered by a dark glove, it's bare, exposed. And he's holding on to her gently, in a way that feels both warm and familiar. Wanda turns to look at him slowly, about to ask him why, when Bucky finds the words first.

"You're just...So good."

Bucky smiles and looks up at her, as if there's more on his mind, more that he wants to say, and then he gets distracted. Not by her, not really. It's something else, something new. Wanda doesn't understand what it is at first, until she feels his fingers softly brush against the scars on her palms and she knows what it is, knows what he is thinking and why he is looking at her the way that he is. Bucky's thinking back to the park, to the blood on her palms, the bruises on her skin. He finally understands it now, what this means.

"Red, I'm sorry.."

She tenses at the memory of that night but she doesn't move, doesn't pull her hand away from his, even though she considers it. Wanda stays where she is, knowing that Bucky is lost in thoughts of that day in the park, of whatever he imagines she went through. He realizes now that this means something else to her, it means more than he first thought, and he understands why she was so desperat for him to see it through her eyes. If someone had been there that night, to stop that man from stealing her things, from hurting her, then things might have been different and he gets that now.

"I'm sorry I didn't see it. Tonight, when I was talking about myself.." Bucky stops, sighs, and tightly shuts his eyes. "I didn't think about what it meant to you. I was being selfish. I should have listened. I should have let myself see it. I was a jerk, for coming to you with this. I was a jerk, I'm sorry."

Wanda shakes her head a little, still very much aware of Bucky's hand, soft around hers. His fingers aren't anywhere near the faded marks on her palms, from where she fell and hit the concrete that night. It still feels like they are though, still feels like his fingers are brushing over the spot, trying to comfort her, to let her know that she isn't alone in this. Wanda doesn't blame him for not seeing it through her eyes, for not thinking about it would mean. She never would.

"It's okay, James." she assures him, taking a step away. "Don't feel badly, you didn't do anything. I'm going to clean up, okay?"

His gaze follows her like he wants to come, to be close, but he sees that she needs a minute. So he lets her go into the bathroom, where she braids her hair back off her face, washes her face at the sink, and spends a minute staring at the mirror—staring at the reflection in it, hers from that night, his from tonight. Wanda lowers her head and sucks in a breath, fingers curled around the basin for a moment, as the memories leave her.

When she returns to the room to grab an old sweater she finds Bucky still sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for her. He offers her a smile and she smiles back, before swiftly getting ready for the night. Wanda pulls on an old sweater over her dress, wiggles out of her shoes, takes off most of her jewellery, and then climbs up on to her side of the bed. She settles there quietly, her back to Bucky, her eyes glued on the half-opened window where the city lights seep in through the darkness.

Minutes later she feels the bed dip behind her. Wanda feels Bucky moving, stretching out on the space next to hers, and even though she wants to look she doesn't. For the moment she stays where she is, staring out at the window, her mind adrift with thoughts of that night, tonight, and so much more. She closes her eyes and tries to let it go, and it works, it all starts to slip away, until she feels the bed move again and she becomes alert.

Her first thought is that he must be leaving now, that he won't spend the night. But then she feels him come back, bringing the blanket with him. Bucky drags the blanket up over Wanda, covering her up with it like she did for him that night, and she knows this is his way of telling her that he isn't leaving, not yet, maybe not at all. Bucky is gentle as he tugs the soft blanket up over Wanda then he settles next to her, silent for what feels like too long. By the time he speaks again, she finds herself welcoming the sound of his voice.

"I'm sorry I said something. That I upset you."

The bed moves again, she feels him come closer. Then he stops, lets out a breath, and he doesn't move again. Bucky stays there, close behind her but not too close. He's just there, waiting for Wanda to say something, or nothing at all. It comforts her to know that he's there, that he is willing to wait, just like she did.

"You didn't—It was just a hard night, I think. And I think sometimes it is difficult to talk about the hard nights." she sighs, her eyes still squeezed shut. "But you didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry if you felt like you did. I find it hard, to be around other people sometimes. Because it's been so long, it feels so different. With you, it feels new. I am just trying to relearn what it feels like."

Bucky seems to understand what she means, or it feels like he does. He gets it, what it's like to try to let someone new in after so long. It feels like something they both get, without words, without anything else. It's why Wanda seeks him out in the dark. She turns over to face him slowly, settling comfortably by his side. Up this close it allows her to see him, to get a clearer look at him. His face is soft, his eyes are clear, and there's a look on his face that lets her know that all of this is still as hard for him as it is for her.

"I understand." he says gently. "But I'm still sorry."

She nods and then she brings herself closer to him, gently placing her hand on his face. Bucky softens at the touch almost right away. His eyes shut and he lets out a breath, as Wanda's fingers settle against his jaw and she tilts his head up to get one last look at the cut near his temple. She looks for a moment then lets go, allowing Bucky's head to sink back into the pillow. Her hand hovers by his jaw for one more moment before slipping away and afterwards she can only watch him, stuck on all the things she wants to remember, like the color of his eyes, the shape of his face, and the little creases he gets near his eyes when he lets himself really smiles.

But tonight isn't that kind of night. It doesn't feel right, to get lost in those things, to want to touch and remember everything. So she lets herself focus on being here with him instead and after a moment she moves, rolling over on to her back, still close by his side, as her eyes settle on the lights dangling above her bed. It takes her back, not to all the bad nights she's spent alone in this bed, staring up in those lights—but to last night, with Bucky in her bed, and how it felt to be there with him.

"Can we forget about tonight?" she asks soon.

Wanda wants this, needs it, more than anything else right now. She wants to forget, to begin again, because last night felt so good and she wants to go back there with him. When she turns to look at him she can't read anything in his eyes. He keeps it all to himself, silent until he makes himself speak a minute later.

"If you really want. I mean, I'd love to forget. I would." Bucky sighs, voice quiet again. "But I don't know if that's a good idea. I don't know if we should forget. And even if we wanted to, I don't know if it would work."

"Why not?" she asks, lifting an eyebrow. "You said you do things all the time that you shouldn't do. So why shouldn't we do this?"

Slowly his lips twitch into a smile. "So the girl really is trouble. Who knew?"

"You did."

It comes back to him in pieces. Stark's party, their talk on the balcony. He smiles fondly at the memory then looks down at her, letting himself look closer than he has before. She's quick to file away the memory, of his eyes locked on hers, of the way he looks at her after as he dwells on the memory of the night they met again at Stark's party.

"Yeah, I did. I knew it, I guess I just forgot 'cause of how nice you were tonight." he grins, bumping his elbow into hers. "You kept buying me pity drinks at the bar. You made me laugh, too. You were so nice, you helped me forget. Just by being you. So yeah, I forgot but I see it clearly now."

"They weren't pity drinks, silly."

Bucky's eyes bright suddenly and he smiles, genuinely lost for a moment.

"Well, what were they?" he asks, curious. "You certainly didn't buy them because you thought I looked cute. So, what were they? If not pity drinks, then what?"

Smiling a little to herself, Wanda shrugs and closes her eyes. She likes that it is back to being like this. Light, and sweet, and a little playful. She feels relieved to know that they can go back to this like nothing happened. It feels familiar, feels good, and she welcomes it. She lets herself think about it for a little longer before she looks up at Bucky and discovers that he is still watching her, waiting for an answer.

"You were cute."

He laughs. "You're a bad liar, red."

"Yes, maybe I am." Wanda smiles, bumping her shoulder into his. "Maybe I'm not. But you still think that I am cute, so.."

She expects Bucky to joke, to tease her back right away, to say something. But he doesn't. A look flickers through his eyes, brief, and small, and familiar. He isn't nervous but he almost is. There's a look in his eyes, clear and warm, and she remembers it long after it's gone.

"Did I say that? I don't think I said that." he frowns, playful again. "I think you called me cute, red. And I think you're putting words in my mouth that I didn't put there. It's kinda sad, when you think about it—"

"I could tell. That you thought I was cute." Wanda smiles more. "You were buying me drinks all night. They weren't pity drinks. Were they?"

"Oh, so she's funny."

This time Wanda is the one who says nothing. She hums a quiet response, a smile still on her lips, as her eyes shut and she lets out a breath. It feels different, feels a little more peaceful this time. It's nice to be back here with him, to laugh with him, and to have things be this way between the two of them again. It seems to comfort both of them, that they can go back to this, that even after a hard night that they can still make each other feel this way.

"We can forget." Bucky says, a while later.

Wanda's quick to look back to him, to where he's resting by her side. She can't help it, that she's a little surprised, but only because just minutes ago he didn't seem all that convinced that they could forget, or that they should. Wanda doesn't know why but she feels like she needs to know what changed his mind, then she will leave him to get the rest that he needs.

"You thought it wasn't a good idea, didn't you?" she frowns. "What changed your mind?"

"I just—well, I just didn't know if we could forget about tonight and the way it started. But maybe we could pretend that we forget. That's pretty much the same thing, right?"

She nods, taking it all in. "I want to forget, if that's what you want. But I also want you to be okay. And to know that I cared, that I still do. I was worried about you tonight and I don't want to forget that. I just want you to be okay."

Bucky smiles back at her softly, still torn, still guilty about tonight, but he's working on it.

"Yeah, I know. I know you did." he says gently. "But I'm alright. I didn't mean to worry you tonight, doll. I'm sorry."

"I know."

For a moment after this they say nothing else. They just watch each other, lost in their heads, in the quiet between them, and then Bucky reaches out for her. Wanda only notices it now, that he's wearing his glove again. She doesn't ask, she doesn't linger. She quickly gets lost in the feeling of his hand reaching for hers, and how intimate it feels to have him reach for her hand while watching her so warmly.

"You know what? I was wrong, I don't want to pretend tonight never happened." Bucky says soon, decided. "I want to pretend this whole day never happened. Let's just go back to last night and pretend we're back there. How's that sound?"

Slowly she begins to smile. "You want to do that? Do you think you could?"

"I do."

Then he smiles back at her and she can only think about how lovely and sweet it is. How lovely and sweet he is, that is until she remembers his hand linked between hers and she gives it as squeeze, just like last night but different, maybe even better.

"So you'll stay?"

"Yeah, of course. 'Till you drift off." Bucky says gently. "Then maybe longer, you know, 'cause we got pretty wasted tonight. Didn't we? That was fun, wasn't it?"

Wanda smiles thinking about it, then she looks to Bucky and finds him smiling, too. He's so much more relaxed now, more than he's been all night, and she cherishes the sight. She files the memory away and gives his hand a squeeze, watching as he smiles, growing softer and more relaxed with every moment they spend together.

"I knew it." she beams, turning away. "I knew you had a good time tonight, even though you seemed determined not to have too much fun."

"Hey, I did. I wanted to. I always want to have fun." Bucky argues, then his voice softens. "I just couldn't see it differently, not until later, until you."

There's another pause between them, a long and quiet moment of silence, before she turns to look at him. Wanda feels a pull and glances back over to Bucky, finding a softer look in his eyes. He is tired, weary from the long day and all the drinks. But he looks peaceful, too. Happy, even. She lingers on it, lets herself remember, then she looks up at him and smiles.

"Wait, so you are sleeping over?" she asks, curious. "You will stay after I drift off, then spend the night?"

Bucky pretends to need time to think it over, even though they both know he's not going anywhere else tonight.

"Yeah, I mean. I thought so. That okay with you?"

"Yes, but there are rules. First: no sex."

His grin widens, even though he tries and fails to hide it. Bucky knows where she is going with this. Back to last night, to their small and briefly awkward conversation about sleeping over, where for a moment Bucky misunderstood what she was asking him to stay over for. He understands now and he lets himself smile, after he stops trying to hide it, stops trying to stay composed, when he clearly can't. This is all too amusing for both of them.

"Right, gotcha. I like that rule, it's a good one. Wait, you didn't think that's why I was staying over. Did you? Wanda. Sweetheart, that's not why." he grins, eyes glowing with both warmth and a deep amusement. "It's your voice. It puts me right to sleep, that's why I wanted to stay over. Maybe it's because everything you say is really boring and it knocks me out cold. But I'm pretty sure it might have something to do with that accent, too. It's calming. Anyway, what are your other rules?"

Wanda can't help it, she breaks out into a smile that she can't hide, not that she even wants to hide it. She smiles, and then she laughs, as she nudges Bucky in the side, a little harder this time, but still playful, still barely there. He laughs with her until he comes up with another question.

"Any other rules?"

She nods, still smiling. "No snoring. No kicking."

"Oh, well this is kinda awkward. You see, I snore like—I don't really know what to say I snore like, you know? Mm. You ever hear Barton snore? Jesus, that man is like a lawnmower. You should hear him. But me? I'm like a small dog, most nights I don't really snore. But sometimes I bark and twitch. It's a lucky draw, you never know what you're gonna get."

"A lawnmower?" she giggles, closing her eyes. "This is all very strange. I am not sure what to think."

"Oh, it is. You're in for a weird night, Maximoff. You sure you're up for it?"

Wanda smiles, certain of it. It is more than this that she is sure of. It is him, and this thing between them, and it doesn't need to be said because he already knows how she feels. She knows, too.

"I think I can handle it."

Slowly Bucky smiles back at her. "Good to know."