Steve lay on the shattered window of a turned-over bus, the first Avenger having barely escaped the Winter Soldier and his allies with his life. The first Avenger had been on his way to stop the launch of Project Insight when he, Natasha and Sam had been attacked. Steve didn't know where Sam and Natasha were, but he had to find him. They needed to get to the Triskelion. Before Pierce could-,

BANG!

Steve's vision turned black and white as the sound of a gunshot rang through the air, a bullet of icy pain shooting through his chest. The soldier brought a hand to his chest, desperate to keep himself from bleeding out. Only, there was no blood. The bullet hadn't hit him.

And yet, he could feel it. The icy touch of death spreading across his chest. If he wasn't the one shot, the why was-? Oh God, Natasha.

When Steve was young, his mother would always say that she knew the exact moment that Steve's father died. That when her husband took his final breath, Sarah Rogers' vision turned black and white, while her lungs burned with the sting of mustard gas. If that was true-,

The first Avenger scrambled out of the bus and scanned the battle-torn highway, spotting Natasha Romanoff hiding behind a bullet-sprayed car, the fiery red light of her soul flickering as she clutched the bleeding bullet wound in her shoulder. While the Winter Soldier prepared to take the final shot.

Steve grit his teeth as he ran into the battle, the Winter Soldier lowering his gun as he raised a fist. Steve raised his shield in self-defense as the Winter Soldier threw a massive punch with his mechanical arm, the sound of the colliding metals ringing like the starting bell of a heavyweight title fight. And so, Captain America began to fight harder than he ever had before.

"You felt me dying? What do you mean you felt me dying?"

Natasha Romanoff sat with Steve in Nick Fury's safehouse, the spy nursing her wounds while the soldier explained the brutality of his fight with the Winter Soldier, now identified as Bucky Barnes. Natasha had never seen Steve fight like that before. Not at New York. Not on their missions for SHIELD. Not even in the old newsreel footage of him and the Howling Commandos in World War Two.

"I don't know any other way to describe it," Steve explained "When the Winter-when Bucky," he corrected, still trying to accept the fact that his oldest friend was Hydra's number one assassin "shot you, my whole world turned black and white. I started getting really, really cold. And when I saw you, surrounded by the beautiful light of your soul, but something was wrong. It was flickering, like a light bulb that needed to be changed. And when I saw Bucky sneaking up behind you, I knew that if didn't do something, that beautiful light would go out. And I couldn't let that happen."

Now Natasha knew why she felt so safe around Steve. Because he would fight until his last breath for the people in need. Especially those he cared for. And now, she was at the top of that list. "You know, you never told me what color my soul is," she whispered, as a hint of her native accent slipped through "You are the only one who can see it, after all."

"Red," he answered, running a gentle hand through her hair "The same beautiful red as this."

"That explains why you always notice when I change it." Natasha was always experimenting with her hair. Both for work and for herself. And Steve was always the first to compliment her on it.

"So what about me? What color is my soul?"

"Blue," Natasha told him "The same blue as your eyes." The soldier and the spy nervously pulled away from each other as Sam Wilson walked by "Unless we want the entire intelligence community to know about us, we should probably keep things professional until this mission is over," she whispered. The Black Widow tilted her head as she felt she felt a harsh chill run down her spine. "What is it?"

"What happened on the highway," Steve stayed silent for a moment as he swallowed a growing lump in his throat "I don't know if I'm going to be able to do it again, Nat."

"Steve," Natasha gave the soldier as soft smile as she reminded "as much as I adore how safe I feel around you, I don't need you to be a knight in shining armor."

"I know. And I would never try to do that," he assured her quickly "I know that you're that type of woman that wants someone to fight the dragons with you, not for you. Your strength and capability in the field are some of the many things that I admire about you. It's just, you are the only thing that makes me feel like I belong in this world," Steve explained "and now I know that if something goes wrong, I'll feel it. Whether we're three feet apart or three hundred miles. And the thought of something happening to you and me not being able to do anything about it, darling that scares me," he confessed "in ways you can't even imagine. I guess what I'm trying to say is, please be careful?"

Natasha took note of the desperation in his voice and nodded. "I will."