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While stealth and vigilance were the New Avengers’ forte for obvious reasons, Valentina thought that it wouldn’t hurt to recruit someone who would make their lives easier post-missions, or rather, a healer. Someone whose job is to purposely fall behind to help recover the rest on command.
At least half of the members had faster recovery periods than a normal person, but constantly being in demand meant that they needed an extra push to their physical healing processes after every mission dispatch. It’s not Valentina’s Avengers without a form of abuse or manipulation, is it?
You, as the most well-renowned and accessible healer in terms of communication and location, were undoubtedly hesitant to join at first, aware of the reputation its members had and Valentina herself. Of course you weren’t on board right away.
However, with Bucky’s presence alone— someone who you’ve already crossed paths with during your time with the Avengers and someone who you regarded highly— you had an inkling that there’s likely something more than what meets the eye to this group and their situation.
When the team learned you were semi-joining for the first time, they were highly skeptical (what’s new?), expecting your being in their group to have an ulterior motive. Why would this former Avengers asset want to do anything with the pathetic mismatch that is the New Avengers? Typical and predictable “infiltrate from the inside” type of job. Nonetheless, seeing how you interacted with Bucky made them slip into ease whenever you were around, slowly but surely.
With that, Bob would be the type to think, “they’re so ethereal, I need them walk all over me” the moment he laid his eyes on you during the introductory meeting, but he isn’t instantly infatuated romantically. Having been kept away for so long due to being experimented on, he hadn’t heard your name making the rounds when the Avengers were still intact.
How he felt was similar to seeing an unfamiliar artwork in a museum for the first time and immediately resonating with it; desperately wanting to learn it’s intricacies, observing where its cracks are, but it feels so far away it’s untouchable. Better distant than where it’s accessible, prone to tainting and harm.
Unlike the rest of the team, you had the privilege of never falling into the wrong life path. That fact in itself made Bob think he was undeserving of you, to even merely be in your radius. But he couldn’t help the way that something just clicked in his head that he had to be close to you, doesn’t matter if it’s romantically or platonically.
It’s best described simply: he needs you, but he can’t have you.
Bob watched from afar at first because that’s all he ever knew how to do; to him, staying away protects the people he loves. Getting involved made things worse. His sole existence made things worse.
And while the man with the power of a million exploding suns is continuously going through therapy to overcome the overpowering god complex that comes out the moment he taps into Sentry and eventually spirals into the Void, an inkling of self-doubt still manages to make its way into his everyday thinking.
You, on the other hand, thought that Bob wanted nothing to do with you completely unlike his partners who have learned to live with your company when you’re summoned on standby to the tower’s clinic.
One miraculous day, in the middle of the grueling hours that you waited for the team, you couldn’t help but just… wander around the place once and for all after months of just passing time doing whatever you thought of. You did anything but explore.
It was weird, relearning the interiors of a building you used to know so well, everything was different. It’s as if an old and cozy hole-in-the-wall cafe you used to frequent at turned into yet another 7-Eleven branch.
On the journey to visit where you remembered the old lounging quarters to be, you stumbled upon Bob observing the midday city skyline.
The spontaneous squeak of your shoe against the pristine flooring caused both your demeanors to stiffen. Still unable to fully control his powers, he only pathetically winced and put his arms in front of himself before facing his potential attacker.
“Please don’t hurt me!” “I’m sorry!”
Confusion then settled between the two of you, with Bob’s arms lowering and your own falling back to their side.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you… I just got bored out of my mind waiting for hours at the clinic.” You chuckled, hand rubbing your forearm more than necessary out of nervousness. (He admits later into your relationship that he never liked the way you pulled your skin in the hopes of making it hurt on purpose.)
He nodded, albeit a little excessively, mirroring you by fiddling with the sleeve of his worn-in sweater. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company.”
On top of your overthinking, you took his harmless words as a sign to leave him alone again and make your merry way to the rest of the building.
“I’ll leave you to it, Bob.” A strained smile appeared on your face. That’s it, all hope of developing a relationship of some sort with Bob down the drain. He really does hate you.
As you went to turn back the way you came from, a screech of an impulsive “wait!” made you undo the action, almost tripping over air.
“You can… stay.” In contrast to his initial protest of you leaving, his words came out gently, as if speaking any louder would scare you off.
Half a beat passes. It’s clear that none of the words he has said or was about to were meant to leave his lips, but they did.
“I want you to stay.”
Now that you think about it, this is the most Bob has ever spoken to you. That fact had your stomach churn indescribably, not exactly good nor bad.
Your lack of a response made him backtrack timidly, “If… only if you want to, of course.”
At his invitation, you gave him a smile. He felt his heart bloom with pride knowing that he pulled that out of you. This was the start of a friendship that danced around the fence of lovers for a while, much to the team’s dismay.
Watching the two of you deny your feelings was painful to say the least. You believed that Bob was just tolerating you and that he’d never be attracted to you, while Bob was dead set he’d never be worthy of you.
Like right out of a Greek tragedy: destruction loves its opposite, depends on it, but fears ruining the only thing keeping itself from wrecking havoc. Reparation gravitates towards its counterpart akin to a moth to a flame, desperately wants to love and take care of it, willing to lose itself in the process.
Bob would keep you company in the medical facility, sometimes chattering on and on until you had to work, other times you’d do your own thing and he’d get some reading in. He simply liked being in your presence.
You and he had created a grounding and supportive dynamic without realizing it; that came with muddled boundaries. Affection that was more than what normal friends do, sharing things that not a soul except yours and his would only know, holding eye contact longer than intended but never looking away.
But more often than not, the moments would be gone as soon as they happen, thanks to Bob’s overly cautious nature that instead does the opposite. It leaves a bitter aftertaste of rejection in your mouth.
Lots of pushing and pulling happened before you reached your breaking point, finally releasing the dam you called your feelings. A confession had manifested itself as a result of overflowing frustration. The constant confusion left you stressed more than usual, distracting you from your job.
Yelena stepped into the infirmary with the usual minor battle injuries, nothing out of the ordinary except for your semi-obvious brooding. She immediately noticed that you were a tad bit distressed, but paid no mind until you brought it up yourself. You weren’t as good as hiding your emotions on your face as you thought you were.
Unbeknownst to you, working on her wounds quietly aside from the occasional “this okay?” and “does it hurt?”, your glasses were slipping off the bridge of your nose.
Bob, always hyper-aware of you, was by your side the moment it nudged down the slightest, further crowding the huddle you and Yelena had.
His fingers delicately pushed your glasses up, eyes concentrated on your features like it was nothing, almost like it meant nothing to him. Yet, it sent you spiraling.
Your flow state halted, making the subject of your healing suck in a breath between her teeth.
“Shit, my bad.” You shook your head, annoyed that you were out of it. It didn't help that you could see Bob looking at you full of concern through your peripheral.
“‘S’okay. I’ve felt worse, babe.” She laughed, somewhat comforting your nerves a tinge. Your bright, hypnotizing, almost white glow kept going through her system until Yelena confirmed she was clear of any scratches. The whole time, Bob was there fixing your glasses every time its nose piece lost its grip.
An action so small made you lose your mind. How? That you never knew until it hit you like a collapsing skyscraper that you needed him more than just a co-worker, more than a friend.
The second you were sure Yelena was out of earshot (but you can never be a hundred percent sure in this damn building lurking with ex-assassins), you turned to Bob who already had his desperate eyes on you. Great.
You shut your eyes and reopen them before starting. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” He asked, completely unaware of the anguish he’d been causing. The very same thing he was afraid of inflicting upon you.
“Like— you keep me close just to push me away. I don’t get it! You do all these things for me, you’re always so careful, but it still feels like I’m so far away from you, Bob.”
The words spilled out of your mouth, desperate for answers. You hadn’t processed that your stress had shown itself through the light you only emitted when you use your powers, sight still stubbornly trained on him. He flinched at the ever growing brightness.
“I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.” It’s an honest statement full of unrealized contradictions, one that shoved you over the edge for good.
“But you do by pushing me away! Don’t you understand that?!”
Your chest heaved at the sudden release of your weighty admission, body still luminous, will still unwavering. The words were hung high in the air before you continued on.
“I want you to find solace in me, I want to get hurt if it means being something in your life. But clearly, I’m not enough for you!” Every time your index finger forcefully strikes at your chest for emphasis, Bob winced as if he were the one receiving the damage.
The floor rumbled slightly, and everyone in the tower was unsure if that was a figment of their imagination.
“I love you, okay?! I’m sorry that I do and I’m sorry that you don’t feel the same because of the way I am, but I can’t help it even if I tried! I swear to you, I tried.”
Blinded by conflict and rage and love, you only really snapped back into reality when a familiar warmth slipped between your fingers. All those times that felt like rejection started to piece a puzzle in your head that you had no idea existed and is instead replaced by epiphanies.
Bob leaned his forehead on yours and whispered your name like a prayer, minty breath that fanned on your features. “I love you, too. I’m sorry for not realizing I was hurting you. I’m in love with you, I'd do anything for you.”
You wetly chuckled at how this whole thing unraveled, unconventional yet you welcomed it. He did, too.
Eyes searched his for permission and he nodded in quiet approval. Your lips part in preparation to kiss his eager ones. It’s one that told you everything that words could not fully convey.
I love you, I’m sorry, I’m not afraid of who you are nor how you express yourself or whoever you’ll become.
Ironically enough, those were words you wanted to echo back to him.
Your lips separate from one another.
“We’ll figure it out.” You promised, sealing it with another desperate kiss. He wholeheartedly reciprocated that same promise.