AN I don't own Marvel or any of its characters!
Natasha loved them both. But now that they were back, she could see the change. There was a love there, deep and strong, that couldn't even touch on what she had with either of them. She told herself it didn't matter but, while they figured that out, she still had them for a little while. She heard Steve step into her room and felt his hand on her shoulder-because he knew that she would let him. He pulled her into a tight hug and she shudder in spite of herself. She tried not to think that this was goodbye. She hated the way he made her relax, the way his calm and his fucking goodness just oozed into her until she let herself believe it was some kind of cure.
"Nat…" She nodded, pulling away before he had the chance to push her. It was always better that way. Be the one to leave rather than the one being left.
"It's okay, Steve. I get it." Steve's entire face just sank as he looked at her and she tried not to let it make her feel like small child being pitied. She moved back to the box of groceries she'd gotten on the bed. Bagel went on the shelf beside her bed. Vodka in the fridge beneath her bed.
"Nat," He swallowed hard and she gave him a small smile that she hoped didn't look fake. "I love you." She smiled at those words. The ones she'd never said. He said them a lot, though, and even more so when he saw her refusal to like he was trying to reassure her. She hated that it worked. She hated more than anything that she could fucking hear how much he meant it because it was so much easier to pretend he didn't care-that neither of them cared.
"It's okay," She repeated, giving him another smile. "I understand. Go, Steve. Not many of us get a second chance like this." Steve looked like he was going to cry. It wouldn't be the first time she saw him cry, but it would be the hardest.
"I promise I'm fine, Rogers." He flinched at the last name, but that was the goal all along. She kissed the back of his hand before letting it drop to his side. She was fine. She turned back to her bed, cursing the tears behind her eyes, and felt his sigh hit her like a damn punch in the ribs. He was going to say more, she could feel it, but she'd been the one to turn her back on him. He would never leave her-he'd said that so many times-and it was too hard. So she made it easy. She turned away from him, she put that distance there, and it was a win-win for both of them. He got a clear conscience, and she didn't have to be the one who got left. He walked out the door without another word.
She was more than upset. She hated herself for it because it made her realize she actually did care about Steve and what they had, but she was hurting. She hastily changed and tied her hair back and jogged down to the gym where she tried to let all that anger, all that hatred and self-loathing, out into one of the punching bags. Her knuckles split and smeared blood on the bag but she kept going. The tension in her shoulders, rather than release, just coiled tighter and tighter as she fought back the tears in her eyes. Her hands throbbed. She couldn't stop punching so matter what she did it was like her body wasn't her own and then-
"Natalya." She jumped, having not heard him come in, but the moment she stopped punching her body just broke. She collapsed to her knees, her hands in shreds, and tears fell because she couldn't fight it anymore. Slowly, she watched him approach her. He sat cross legged on the floor a foot or so from her, calm as always.
"Natalya." She could tell from his tone it would be the same conversation she'd just had with Steve and she prepared herself to yell at him, to hurt him to make it easier for all of them to leave her, but she stopped when he touched her hand. He never initiated the touch. Slowly, he took her hand in his and examined the bruising and the bloodied knuckles with a little sigh that felt almost parental in it's concern. She just choked back more tears. Slowly, he lifted her chin so he could see her face and she was ready-or at least she tried to be-for him to spit out a rejection or an explanation but he didn't. He took one look at her, and kissed her.
He was so fucking familiar, but in a different way than Steve. Steve had the familiarity of trust, of friendship, of some kind of bond. But Bucky? Bucky had the familiarity of time. He'd known her when she was young, vulnerable, and they shared so much of that background that they couldn't help but be tied together. He felt like stolen moments, like risk, like solace from the torture. And he knew it. He gently pulled her into his lap, deepening the kiss, and tangled a hand in her hair even as she shook and trembled at the touch. When he pulled away, she felt like he took all the oxygen in the room with him. But he pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed, and gently touched her cheek.
"I saw you with him." The Russian hit her like a tranquilizer but she tried to force herself to hear the words. Was there any jealousy in his voice? Any pain? But it was just a statement, as empty as she was sure his eyes would be.
"It's complicated…" He nodded, though, rather than explode or yell. Neither of them said those four little words-there was so much there, and too many years of training-but she heard it in other, little ways. When he kissed her forehead, that was it. She shattered, clutching his shirt and clinging to his chest as the sobs overtook her body. He just held her, though. She couldn't do it. She couldn't lose both of them. Steve and her were… something. They'd never defined it but she was comfortable with his touch and she'd let him see the nightmares and the scars and, if she was honest with herself-which she rarely was-she might have started to feel something for him. Not love, necessarily, but something more than she should have.
And Bucky, god. He was still James to her, though she was working on it, but she knew she loved him. She had since she was a teenager-he was the the only other person in the entire world who understood her specific kind of broken. She never said it, neither of them did. But it was there. And if she hadn't been coming down from that talk with Steve-from the realization that she was losing him, from forcing herself to lash out and push him away-she would have steadied herself. But she couldn't, now. And he never asked her to because he understood, even if he pretended not to. So he just held her against his chest and let her focus on his heartbeat until she could breathe again.
"I know you love him." The English was intentional, but it still stung as it left her tongue. Between them, they always spoke Russian because it reminded them of their history together, of the bond and understanding they shared, but the English put distance between them. He smoothed her hair again, like he was buying himself time to think of a response.
"So do you." She flinched, even though the words weren't angry. She didn't let herself use that word with Steve because it was too heavy, too much, but that didn't stop her from feeling it. And Bucky had called her out on it after watching them for what? Five minutes?
"You should go with him." Her voice broke over the syllables but she didn't fight it. He didn't need to hear that she was completely fine, or that this wasn't tearing her apart at the seams. He knew it was. And he was morally grey enough to do it anyways, if she told him to.
"Talya," The Russian surprised her, enough to get her to look up, but he was focusing on the wall. "I don't want to lose you." Nothing could have made her see that coming. She choked and hugged him tight, half because she needed the contact and half to hide her face from him, but he just hugged her back. Of course she knew, theoretically, that she meant something to them. But she'd never expected it from Bucky of all people and not like that… Not I love you or I'm sorry or it doesn't have to be this way. I don't want to lose you.
"I know," She had to force the English, now. "But I'm not worth losing him." That was the crux of it all. She could mean the world to both of them but it wouldn't matter because they were each other's worlds-and she couldn't even touch that. Fuck she was going to lose them both. She couldn't breathe. She wasn't worth it, to them, even if they did love her. And Steve…. Steve was good and pure and angelic and no one would ever, ever think someone like her was worth trading Steve for.
"What if you are?" She couldn't fucking breathe. He was looking at her, now, full eye contact and nothing but honesty in his face, but she couldn't believe it. He was lying. This was all some joke, some twisted dream she was putting herself through. He just looked at her, though.
"I'm not." She finally said, because she couldn't come up with anything else.
"I think you are." He kissed her forehead again-I love you-and she shivered. "If it has to be a choice, Natalya, know that you would be mine." She almost fainted right then and there because never in a million years would she have expected something like that to come out of his mouth but she made herself stop and focus. Pick something, anything to focus on!
"If?" His smile touched her forehead, even if it was brief, but he nodded.
"The only reason he thinks it's a choice, Talya, is because he doesn't know about us. I thought it was a choice, before I saw you with him today. But why not both?" She had to grip his shoulder to steady herself. Both. The only context she'd ever thought of that word was losing them both. Losing them-both. But keeping them… both?
"What the fuck?" They jumped but they knew the voice. Bucky let her hide her face in his shirt and faced the voice for the both of them.
"Language, Stevie." Steve hesitated-she actually felt him hesitate-but Bucky kept his hand tangled in her hair and didn't say a word. They were waiting for him to react.
"Nat… what the hell are you doing?" It was so disapproving, so disappointed, that she almost gagged on the sound but she couldn't do it. There was so much betrayal there. She'd just told Steve to go be with Bucky, she'd practically put a knife in his chest to just to get him to go, and here she was. With Bucky.
"Don't blame her." Bucky was defending her?! "We have to talk-the three of us-but let her breathe for a second, okay?" Steve paled like he'd been reprimanded but nodded.
She was vaguely aware of being carried upstairs, though she couldn't tell whose arms she was in anymore, but when she fell on a bed it smelled like Steve. Her clothes smelled like Bucky and the combination was enough to lull her to sleep.
When she woke up, Bucky and Steve were on the couch a few feet away talking in hushed tones. From the looks on their faces, they'd been talking for a while. When they noticed she was awake, Bucky greeted her with a gentle hey sweetheart and Steve gave her a little nod-not a smile, or a greeting, but still more than she'd expected. Glancing between them, she couldn't help herself.
"Is he mad?" Bucky chuckled under his breath. Steve looked at them with something like irritation in his face but Bucky just moved to sit beside her on the bed and smoothed her hair.
"No, he's not mad, Talya.." Steve relaxed a bit, knowing what they were talking about. "He's not thrilled, obviously, but he understands. Don't you, Stevie?" Steve nodded, looking earnest and accepting.
Thanks for reading! Please review! One-shot for now, thoughts on an update?