Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own any Marvel characters or any affiliated concepts, nor do I pretend to.

A/N: Hello all. So, here we go my ultimate OTP on paper. I ship Romanogers so hard it is like a religion and I am taking the plunge and striking out on my very own story. I hope you all enjoy the journey. Please R&R and let me know what you think, more to come soon. -Cat

Chapter One

Natasha

When you live on the fringe, you figure out ways to survive. A big one is compartmentalization. You have to think about your brain as a suitcase, and inside that suitcase you have all these boxes. These boxes are filled with everything you think about. Some are big, some are small. You've got your family box, your work box, your boxes of different friends. And everything fits into these boxes, so you can function. Because you can't spend all day thinking about these things. You have to function. So we put things in the boxes, so we can move past them or around them.

But somethings just don't seem to want to fit into their box.

It's hard to pinpoint when that moment happens. When you realize that the way things had been going…. Well, they wouldn't be going that way for too much longer. The lid on the box won't close. That's the hardest, when you realize your reality has forever shifted. That it would never go back to the 'before'. No matter what you want.

Because before...before whatever happened happened...things were easy...well, easier, until the flood gates opened.

I mean...

He was Steve. Just Steve. Simple, clean, tidy. He fit in his little box nicely. Very patriotically. Captain America. My new brother in arms. Which he was, brother-like, for so long…. I mean, it just worked, far easier to have a comrade in arms... Than literally anything else. Cause he was Steve. And I - I'm…. Well, I'm me.

I'm Natasha Romanoff. Black Widow. Killer. Avenger. Opposite from his entire world.

So everything was fine. He was Steve and I was me. And it was amazing how easily I could believe my own lie. I mean sure, I cheated occasionally... I mean for instance, I knew I didn't want him to be alone. That would be worse. Way Worse. So I would try to set him up. And he always said no. Because he was Steve, and too stubborn to let his world keep spinning. And I worried about him. He didn't deserve to be alone, he deserved happiness.

I realised that wanting to make sure he was happy was crossing the boundaries of what was appropriate. I was investing myself too much. But honestly I couldn't seem to stop my self.

And then that stupid mission happened. It changed everything, and some nights, when I am feeling particularly sorry for my self, I just wish I could go back, back to before that night on the Lemurian Star. Because it was easier, delusional but easier, the lid was still tightly on Steve's box.

I remember watching him fight Batroc on the deck, when I was getting the intel from the hard drives. It was on the security camera feed. I noticed him take off the helmet and face the mercenary. I can admit, it caught my eye. It seemed so unlike him, to invite violence almost, rather than try and defuse it. I found it attractive. What can I say?

And then he found me on the security bridge, 'Well, this is awkward,' didn't even begin to cover it, considering I was spying on him moments before, getting all hot and bothered.

When he realised what I was doing, he was so disappointed in me. It was shocking how much it hurt, to realise I had let him down. That he had even thought that highly of me to begin with… and then to have lost it before I even really realized I had it? It tuned my emotions in a quick and brutal way.

Working with him, it was different from anything I was used to. He wasn't like Clint, he wasn't like Fury. It wasn't the same as working with the other guys. He was a different kind of animal. Unpredictable. Funny, when I first met him on the first flight ship, I can still see him standing there, in his khakis and plaid shirt, looking so lost...I thought he would be the most predictable of all of Fury's recruits.

Then Fury died. After getting shot in Steve's apartment. What was going on? My world tilted. And the fact Steve wouldn't trust me to help him... It was like a punch to the gut. I felt alone. Again. Back where I always ended up. So I watched and I waited. I wasn't going to disappoint him again. Steve was gonna get my help whether he wanted it or not.

'Course the kiss didn't help keep my emotions in check either. Sure I made the off the cuff comment after, but it was to cover my shaking hands. Walking around the mall with him, his arm around my shoulders, joking at the Apple Store; a more childish side of me likes to run those moments in my mind. Like we were a normal couple, not being chased by a death squad of Hydra.

But nothing had really changed at all. In that truck ride out to New Jersey I realized how lucky I was, that he wanted me to be his friend. What more could I hope for? He was Captain America. He was so…. good. What was I? An ex-trained assassin. A soulless man made killer? Who was I to expect anything more from Steve Rogers?

And then he goes and saves my life in the bunker. I can still remember his arms around me, his body shielding mine from the rubble of the bunker literally protecting me from death.

I realized later, in Sam's apartment, I was doomed. When he said he trusted me, it was like being given a gift I wasn't worthy of. I loved him. There was nothing for it. I did. So all that meant was I just had to build him a slightly bigger box to fit into. And it might take a while but I could do it. I could do anything. Emotions were nothing. Manageable.

I remember getting shot, the pain ripping through my shoulder. Falling backwards. I remember sitting behind the car. Knowing the Winter Soldier was right behind me, grenade launcher in hand. This was gonna be it. But then he was there. In an instant, my knight in red, white and blue armour. I watched him fight. He was protecting me. It was a close battle, the Winter Soldier was powerful, but then I watched Steve stop. He just stopped, dead, like he was frozen in place. He looked scared. I had to scramble to make it. Nearly passed out from the pain but I got the shot off before he could shoot Steve.

The aftermath from fighting on the highway is a bit of a blur...

I remember pain, and worry. But mainly I remember the pain of watching Steve, trapped in his own shifting reality. The realization his best friend from before, was alive. And had evidently been used as a super soldier assassin? I can remember telling him it wasn't his fault. Hoping against hope he would believe me and not disappear into a pit of self hate. Seemed like something he would do. Being all honourable, like he was.

Then we went to the Triscellion...