The speech is in italics as they would be speaking in Russian.
Natasha shifted her weight in the chair, curling her legs underneath her. She had moulded herself to the uncomfortable plastic, finding the best position to rest in. She tugged her leather jacket around herself more as if she was about to settle to sleep, but she was far from it. She couldn't even consider sleep when the other person in the room still hadn't woken. Sighing to herself, she let her eyes pass over the familiar lines of his face.
James Barnes had been the only man to ever truly understand what she had been through. He had been there at a time when she had been alone in the world, lost in the training of the Red Room and forged into the assassin that she was now. He was the only man to see her as more than a murderer, and she had seen him as more than a weapon. He had trained her, worked with her, and loved her at a time she believed herself incapable of love. He had been her secret, and she had been his light. James spent so many of his nights sneaking into her room just to see her, knowing that if he got caught he would be moved to Siberia, at the very least. Natasha had been promised to another man during that time, and he had still come to see her. James understood her in a way that nobody else had done, not even Clint. He knew her as if she was an extension of himself. They had always worked seamlessly together, knowing the other's move before it happened.
That was why he had been able to shoot her as she ran from him.
While Natasha was good - the best in her line of work, and she was proud of that - James had taught her everything she knew. She moved the way he did and had never changed that style, because there had never been another that she had seen like it. Everything he did was fluid movement and perfect aim. Even if he hadn't remembered her during their fight, he knew how he would move if he were in her position.
Looking at him now, none of that seemed to be there. Natasha hadn't been there when they first brought him in, but the second Steve had said his name over the phone, Natasha had ran for her car. Since then, she had been sat in the same chair, refusing to move until he woke. When Steve visited, he brought her food, saying he would take over for a while so she could catch up with sleep. Even then, Natasha only got a couple of hours in before she was back to staring at James. She never reached out for him, because she wouldn't. Not until his eyes focused on her. The restraints that were holding him down were something that she wanted rid of, but knew that was the last thing that they could do. If he woke and was still in the mind of the Winter Soldier, they would all be dead within minutes. She had seen him kill men with his hands tied around his back before now, so she knew better than to underestimate him.
Her eyes were studying his metal fingers when a sound came from his throat. Within seconds she was hovering over the bed, looking down at him as his eyebrows knitted together. His eyes didn't open at first, but he moved his fingers and swallowed heavily. Natasha watched when the blue eyes finally opened and darted around the room for a moment, before they found her. She held her breath, looking into the empty blue that she had once known so well.
They began to focus.
"Natalia."
She had never heard him be so quiet. Her real name was a whisper on his lips as his eyes studied her face, the recognition shining back at her. He remembered her. She let out the breath she had been holding, bringing her hand to cup one side of her face. Her palm scraped across the bristle of his face, and he turned in her hand to press his lips to her hand, drawing a ghost of a smile from her.
"Where am I?"
"Safe. You are safe, James."
"Did I hurt you?"
"You never could."
"Will you stay?"
"Always."
That seemed to be enough for him, for the moment. Natasha let her hand slip from his face and trail down the metal of his arm, knowing he was watching her every move. She stretched her leg behind her, hooking her foot around one leg to pull it toward the bed. She slipped her fingers between his as she sat, her warm skin contrasting with the cold of his. Leaning close, she pressed a kiss to the red star on the metal, before moving to rest her chin comfortably on his forearm, looking up at him. James tilted his head to look at her, and Natasha watched as the corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile that, for a moment, took her breath from her.
""I missed you."
