We crossed 1.1k reads, guys!!!!!! This is crazy! Thanks for reading and please don't be a quiet reader. Comments and votes are heavily appreciated. This chapter is also almost double the length of most of the FAoY&B so I hope you like it... I was developing this chapter for a while.

   Natasha almost stumbled at the first sight of the Winter Soldier after a whole week had gone by following the abscence of both him and Yelena, loosing her balance briefly. The class was halfway finished, and one girl's eyes glanced at her, but most of them were too focused to look at anything but the mirrors. 

   He pinned cold, unpresent eyes on her, having obviously noticed her fumble. His messy hair cast his face in shadow as he silently crossed the room to sit on one of the chairs in the corner. 

   Madame B shifted in her seat next to him, eyes locking on him thoughtfully, as if him sitting there was the more interesting than correcting their pupils.

   Natasha regained control of her emotions, analyzing her form in the mirror. In all of her Red Room days, never had she seen James Barnes or the Winter Soldier sit down on one of the foldable, black chairs. Ever.

    She shoved down the fear the ricocheted around in her stomach. She knew something was really wrong, and she knew that Hydra wouldn't ever kill him. He was simply too valuable... But they could kill Yelena, even though she showed potential, and that was what scared her the most.

  The air in the studio smelled permanently of crushed rosin, and the temperature in the room was high because of all the sweating girls. She took in the scent deeply, forcing herself to feel grounded. 

   Madame B stood up suddenly, and gave James another brief look, one that he didn't return. He stared ahead, looking lost in another world. She sighed, and bent near his ear.

   A lump rose in Natasha's throat, and she kept her expression pleasant as was the habit of all of the girls here while in classes. What was Madame B whispering in the man's ear? What was she telling him to do?

   James leaned slightly away from her to look at the cruel woman with not much emotion in his eyes, but with enough personality to surprise Natasha. She gulped, fearing he'd be punished.

   But it looked as if they already punished him. How much more could he take?

   This was the part of the class where he took over, if he hadn't been there the whole time. Was he going to lead?

   Madame B straightened and snapped, "Thank you," and the girls relaxed their muscles. Feet hit the floor, and girls each stretched their arms and wiped sweat from their foreheads. They weren't allowed to place their hands on their hips, grab water, or lean on the ballet barre in their exhaustion, so the girls idly stood at attention like artistic little soldiers. With nothign better to occupy themselves with, they watched the Mistress and the Soldier.

   The teacher and torturer leaned down close to James again to whisper, just like the girls had anticipated. His eyes shifted as he thought about something. He whispered something back, quickly, shocking Natasha. 

    He never whispered back, his used to harden and obey without an opinion on the order. 

   Madame B crossed her arms, looking down at him. "Then leave, Soldier." She didn't appear angry, only mildly frustrated. 

   His eyes narrowed slightly, angrily, as if he couldn't bear looking at her anymore. But he got up and strode out the door. All of the girls watched their instructor as he passed by them as if they didn't exist.

   That was weird, Nat thought. As he swept out of the room with a set jaw, she caught on to how battered the look in his eyes was. He looked ragged, torn, more dead than normal. A certain dark emotion writhed painfully in his features, one that she couldn't understand.

   He lowered his chin and closed the door behind himself, movements bone-tired.

  Letting her gaze reurn to the mirror to not seem suspicious, Natasha wished she could talk to him. Maybe she could help him feel better...?

  But from one look at the man, she knew he might freak out, avoid speaking with her. And he never sat during class. He didn't seem to want to sit down, and the fatigued resignation behind his eyes made her heart sink miles.

   What the hell was going on?

   She listened to Madame B go over the next combo, explaining the next excercise, and tried to memorize it, but Yelena's voice echoed in her mind. She was reminded that something had to have happened to her sister. 

   Whatever it was, it had to do with the Winter Soldier's short dissappearance from the academy.

   The leaves that were sprinkled all over Bucky's quiet block now resembled the colour of the streetlights, the crisp charm signalling the change of seasons. 

   As they sat there, the credits began to roll, the music fading into background noise as she realized how close they were. A heavy, cozy kind of silence settled over the house like a warm blanket. 

   Yelena wanted to be stuck in this moment forever: the two of them curled up beside each other, just there. If she strained her ear, she'd hear him softly breath, his gorgeous eyes with their unique attractiveness reflecting white flashes of light from the screen. 

   He finally switched off the TV, after what felt like ages -wonderful ages- and let out a long yawn as he stretched his arms over his head. Yelena followed suit, the yawn being contagious.

   "So, did my dinner taste better than pizza?" He asked.

   "What? Oh... Well, there was a wholeness about it that dinner really lacked. Maybe it's all the fatty grease in most pizza that makes it whole, you know?" she joked, attempting to lighten the mood.

   Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I should definitely consider dumping bacon grease in my alfredo sauce... and the salad, too. Boy, that would taste great."

   "Ah. Marvellous. Let's try it tomorrow,"

   "But I just made alfredo, we can't have it two nights in a row! We need to space it out so we can fit in all the other good food."

   She groaned. "Fine! But will the wine be making an appearance despite the alfredo being gone?"

   He smirked again. "Maybe,"

   "Does the other good food include pizza?"

   "Of course, now go to bed, Yelena."

   "There's not a bing chance I could have some of the leftover wine?"

   "No." He grumbled around another yawn. "Hell no."

   Yelena pulled herself off the couch and got ready for bed, brushing her teeth and hair and washing her face in the aged, cozy bathrooom connected to her room. 

   Glimpsing her face in the mirror, she thought, I look like shit. 

    Pulling her hair back as she returened to her room, she realized that Bucky's ball cap still hung from the bedpost from that morning. She thought she'd ask if it was fine if she kept using the cap, but... maybe in the morning. 

   That night, Yelena woke in a cold sweat, her eyes immediately pinning on Bucky's ball cap. 

   She spent a few minutes measuring her breaths carefully to calm her heart, fists unclenching slowly in the darkness, then threw her covers off. 

   Yelena padded out to the kitchen to find some herbal tea (she thought she saw some on the cupboard near the coffee), and found Bucky on the ground behind the back of the couch, the blanket half covering his boxers, with half his back off the sheet he was sleeping on. Alpine was lying across his body like a singer sprawled on a piano, purring gently against his bare chest.

    The lights in the main room were off, while the kitchen overhead remained lit, filtering a gentle glow agross the living room and partially illuminating Bucky's lax figure sprawled on the floor. His chest rose and fell evenly.

   Surprised that he still slept on the floor after all these years, Yelena knelt down and shifted the blanket so they would be more comfortable. Bucky's lips parted and he shifted, his fingers softly brushing through Apline's fur.

   She souldn't have been shocked that he slept like this, honestly. Yelena decided not to make tea for fear of waking him up.

   He stroked his cat lovingly, lips parting as he slept, his long, messy locks framing his face. The blanket was strewn over his body carelessly. 

   Yelena wondered what he was dreaming of. She gave Alpine a fond pat. The tiny stretched herself by Bucky's side, watching him sleep with her piercing eyes. 

   "You take good care of him, don't you, Alpine?" she whispered. Alpine blinked. 

   She smiled, quietly lowering herself down onto the bare floor near them, nudged by some indescribable urge. It felt right, it felt peaceful. Yelena took in a deep breath, watching his calm, blank expression. He looked so calm, and it was rare. Just hearing his quiet exhales breaking the silence was a feeling that brought something light to her heart.

   Never had she thought they'd get this far, especially without Natasha. She was the one who brought out the human in the Soldier, the one who made him at least a little bit emotionally present. She'd be so proud if she could see how he'd come in the last few years, Yelena knew. 

   She missed Natasha's small smirk and she missed just being with her.

   Bucky's head lolled to the side. Yelena scooted closer, her hand hovering close to his face, and  without her even knowing what she was doing until she did... her fingers grazed his cheek.