Truthfully, it didn't surprise him. A lot of people were worried about him, for various reasons. Steve worried about his health, physical and mental, and whether or not he was getting along well with the others and adjusting to a new life. Some others on the team worried about something making him snap and reverting to old ways, turning on them. Natasha could be on either side of the spectrum, really. Maybe both. It wouldn't be a shock, either way.
But there were two reasons he didn't worry the same about her in return. The first being, during most of his experiences with her, he knew Natasha was more than capable of taking care of herself. And the second reason was that if there was ever a possibility of her not being able to do so, then she had a team and plenty of comrades to watch out for her as well. She would be just fine, whether Bucky was in the picture or not.
Still. It wasn't as if he liked making people worry. But there was something touching about it, that someone actually gave enough of a damn about him. He was still getting used to that, too.
"Alright, then," he finally said with a nod, and turned towards her, mimicking her gesture with metal fingers. "Just a little it is, from now on."
What followed managed to make him smile, and even laugh a little, just at the mental image it produced. Wouldn't that be something. But he shook his head, giving Natasha's ankle one more look over before carefully lifting her foot from his lap so he could slide off the seat, swiping a nearby pillow to set her ankle down on instead.
"Sadly, I was never that adventurous," he continued, as he set the frozen veggies pack back down over her ankle. "Just clumsy. Sometimes, quick getaways down mountainsides don't work out so well."
He wasn't too sure of what to do next. Her ankle would take time to heal, she would have to avoid putting weight on it. Stark could probably make her a set of jet-powered crutches. But since that wasn't the best idea anytime soon (or ever,) he stood around a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Should he go find a set of non-lethal crutches? Get her something to drink, maybe? Aspirin ...
But it was a bit of change in tone with how the rest of the conversation turned out. Bucky could only shrug, deciding on drinks first as he turned around, looking for the nearest mini fridge or cooler that Stark was bound to have lying around here somewhere.
"Pretty sure everyone in this line of work has thoughts like that, at least once."
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But there were two reasons he didn't worry the same about her in return. The first being, during most of his experiences with her, he knew Natasha was more than capable of taking care of herself. And the second reason was that if there was ever a possibility of her not being able to do so, then she had a team and plenty of comrades to watch out for her as well. She would be just fine, whether Bucky was in the picture or not.
Still. It wasn't as if he liked making people worry. But there was something touching about it, that someone actually gave enough of a damn about him. He was still getting used to that, too.
"Alright, then," he finally said with a nod, and turned towards her, mimicking her gesture with metal fingers. "Just a little it is, from now on."
What followed managed to make him smile, and even laugh a little, just at the mental image it produced. Wouldn't that be something. But he shook his head, giving Natasha's ankle one more look over before carefully lifting her foot from his lap so he could slide off the seat, swiping a nearby pillow to set her ankle down on instead.
"Sadly, I was never that adventurous," he continued, as he set the frozen veggies pack back down over her ankle. "Just clumsy. Sometimes, quick getaways down mountainsides don't work out so well."
He wasn't too sure of what to do next. Her ankle would take time to heal, she would have to avoid putting weight on it. Stark could probably make her a set of jet-powered crutches. But since that wasn't the best idea anytime soon (or ever,) he stood around a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Should he go find a set of non-lethal crutches? Get her something to drink, maybe? Aspirin ...
But it was a bit of change in tone with how the rest of the conversation turned out. Bucky could only shrug, deciding on drinks first as he turned around, looking for the nearest mini fridge or cooler that Stark was bound to have lying around here somewhere.
"Pretty sure everyone in this line of work has thoughts like that, at least once."