Author's Note:

Thank you for taking the time to read this! Please know that I have never personally read any Marvel comics, though I have done some research on certain elements in this work. I would love any feedback that you, the users of the internet, can give me!

{Disclaimer: Some elements of this oneshot (including but not limited to: characters, storyline, and setting) belong to Marvel and its affiliated companies. I do not own them.}

Natalia Romanova had a perfect poker face.

She had been forced to contain her emotions ever since she had been a little girl. The leaders of the Red Room didn't tolerate outbursts, no matter how well-founded. Every time they pushed her too far; every time she had to do something morally wrong, she had to contain herself. Her ability to do so made her the best in the business. The little girls all admired her. Eventually, she was the only one left. The rest all faded away.

Natalia remembered every face, though. Each girl that had come into the Red Room and, predictably, didn't last. All of the men that had ever taken advantage of her, in every way imaginable. Her trainers, all of whom had pushed her past her limit, stuck in her mind like glue.

Which is why when Steve Rodgers asked her what she knew about the Winter Soldier, Natalia Romanova had to hide a wince.

Steve was her friend. And other than Clint Barton, she hadn't allowed anyone close to her in a very long time. Steve didn't know anything about her past though. He didn't know that she had been the youngest assassin to grace the eastern hemisphere. He was didn't know why she always wore black, even on her downtime. He didn't know the only reason she was still alive was thanks to Fury – he had chosen not to convict her of crimes that were enough to send her to the electric chair.

And Steve was definitely blissfully unaware that his best friend had trained her everything she knew about her job.

James Buchannan Barnes had woken from the ice not only in a different world, but as a different man. Gone was the charismatic, friendly, and kind man of the forties. All that was left was the machine. And that was the only version of "Bucky" that Natalia had ever known. He was ruthless, admittedly a killer in his own right, but somehow…she had trusted him. Eventually, they had become tentative friends. All too soon, lovers.

And then it happened. When the leaders of the Red Room figured out how to rip the Winter Soldier's mind apart, twist it, and stich it back together, he turned from her. Worse, he left her. Ignored her. Forgot her.

Natalia hated love after that. Hated it with a passion that would have consumed her. It didn't solely because she had a job to do. A mission to finish and orders to follow. They took the Winter Soldier away from her one day, and despite the stab she felt in her heart, Natalia Romanova had a perfect poker face.

She dug herself deeper and deeper into the hole she had created. She didn't care about the law; hardly even cared about her own life. And then there was Budapest, and everything changed again. When her mission in Budapest started, Natalia had reached an all-time low. She hated her lifestyle, hated the world, hated herself. When she learned that SHIELD agent Clint Barton was assigned to oppose her, she was almost glad. Barton was known to be a killer if need be, and while Natalia would never take her own life, she wasn't about to regret death if it was brought to her by a worthy foe.

But instead of taking her down, Barton saved her. There was nothing more to say of that, nothing more to think of; she refused to. Of course, with Steve staring her in the face, expecting her to answer him, she couldn't tell him any of her story. Steve would never understand. He was Captain America, all around do-gooder, more of a gentleman than anyone could hope to be. He was…something to her, and though she didn't know what yet, he was at the very least someone she trusted.

That thought occurred to her in the second that hovered in the air between them. Natalia Romanova, hater of love, was willing to partake in step one of getting close to someone – trust. It scared her more than it should have.

All she could do was show Steve her scar. The one that had been given to her by her former love – 'Trainer,' she reminded herself furiously. It had been the nail in the coffin in her personal war against love. She had tried everything she could to get the Winter Soldier to remember her, to be a man again. But instead, he remained the machine rather than the man. He had never loved her. Never mind that he had been tortured, changed, and remade. He had forgotten her. Natalia Romanova had loved, once, and it had gotten her shot.

"A ghost story," she told Steve firmly, determined to believe it herself. When she lifted up her shirt to show him where the Russian bullet had torn through her abdomen, her voice was as emotionless as possible. Natalia had other scars, but that was the only one she truly cared about. It was her reminder. The thing that forced her to allow her mind to touch her memories of the old days. She didn't let them control her though. Instead, Natalia Romanova had a perfect poker face.

...

When she ran through the streets and screamed at civilians to run, Natalia struggled to swallow her panic. Not because she was afraid for the bystanders.

Natalia Romanova was afraid for herself.

She had let her heart get involved years ago, and now the action was coming back to bite her. Shots rang out around her; squealing tires and screams drowned out her pounding heart. He could have gone after Steve. He should have gone after Steve, because Steve didn't even know who he was. Instead, the Winter Soldier was coming for her. He was going to kill her. She knew it, but she wasn't in Budapest anymore. She wanted to live.

When he shot Natalia in the shoulder, she crept behind a car and used a trick he had taught her – distraction and getting out of the way. 'How ironic,' she had only a moment to think. Then she slammed into him, and fought for her life. It was the physical equivalent of her war on love. She didn't love him anymore. How could she, when he was hardly the same man, and she was a completely different woman?

He fought just like he had in the old days. The Winter Soldier had stayed in shape, more practiced than he had been all those years ago. The moves felt like a dance that she hadn't done in a very long time. His fighting style had always been her favorite, just like he had always been her favorite trainer. He hadn't lost his touch, she noted. But then again, neither had Natalia.

When it was over, the three of them – Steve, Sam, and Natalia – got arrested, and it gave her time to think. Steve was heartbroken. It took everything Natalia had not to say that she knew exactly how he felt. James Buchannan Barnes ('The Winter Soldier,' she reminded herself harshly) had betrayed her too. He destroyed everything. And although Natalia felt a pinprick of guilt, she chose to forget that it hadn't really been his fault. The Red Room had changed him the same way it had her. Hydra had only made things worse. But it didn't really matter, because Natalia had always blamed him. It was his fault she was like this. His fault she had a very short list of people she trusted. His fault she couldn't love. His fault Natalia Romanova had a perfect poker face.

...

Steve was going to die, he was dead, she couldn't hear him in the radio, and why hadn't she told him before?

The massive flying ship was falling. Down, down, down. Steve had to be dead, but he couldn't be. Natalia needed him. She needed him to be alive, because otherwise her list of friends would go down to only Clint. She needed Steve to be alive, because she hadn't told him yet that she knew the Winter Soldier. She needed him to be alive, because she wanted him to know why she was like this. Why she had a war on love, why she wore black even if she wasn't working, why she never let her hair stay the same ("I love you red locks, Miss Natalia," she heard James Buchannan Barnes – The Winter Soldier – say.).

Natalia found Steve later, finally, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He lay on the tiny bank by the river. He looked half drowned, but she knew he would be alright. Footprints in the dirt led away from him, and after a moment she placed them in her mind. The Winter Soldier… 'He saved Steve?' she wondered. She called an ambulance and Steve stayed unconscious. The paramedics came. They let her stay with him and ride in the ambulance, for which she was grateful. She still had things to say to him, so she had to make sure he stayed alive.

She let Sam sit by Steve's bedside in the hospital, because she didn't want to spring on him as soon as he awoke. "Surprise! You best friend who you thought was dead but then tried to kill you and then saved you also trained me to be an assassin!" No. It wouldn't do. She struggled with her words. At the press conferences, she kept half of her mind on the reporters, and half of it on Steve's condition. The people of the world never suspected a thing as far as she knew – Natalia Romanova still had a perfect poker face.

...

Natalia decided to find the Winter Soldier's file for Steve at the last second. She made her calls to her contacts stiffly, emotionless. When she finally had it in her possession, it took everything in her not to open it, not to see what was written about herself inside. It would be so easy to take it out. Steve would never have to know who she had been. She knew her information would be in the file even though it was supposed to be only the Winter Soldier's. After all, she had been his "little pet", and they had both been experimented on by the Red Room.

In the end, though, she didn't open it. It would be better for Steve to find out this way, Natalia reasoned. Then she wouldn't have to face him when she read the truth – she was a monster. Much of her life was all over the internet now, but so was everyone else's, and nothing of her past life was public.

When she saw Steve in the cemetery, Natalia couldn't help but smile. He was still her friend, at least for a little while longer. When she kissed him on the cheek, she knew that he thought it was a "see you later", but it was really "goodbye". She knew he would hate her soon enough, or at the very least, not trust her. She barely trusted herself, some days. "I wouldn't pull on that thread," she couldn't help but say as she walked away. It came out playful. It hid the pain in her chest.

She left him there, knowing that very soon she would have to close her heart again. She would call Clint first. He deserved to know what had happened. Then she would take a nice, long bath. SHEILD was gone, at least for a while, so she had time before her next mission. She needed time. Natalia Romanova had to hide away again; that's not who she was anymore. She had stopped being Natalia Romanova when her heart turned to stone.

Instead she was Natasha Romanoff, and she did not love. She never kept her hair the same. She did not have friends, except for a select few. She wore black, even on her downtime. She had been the youngest assassin in the eastern hemisphere. She was only alive because Fury had once given her a second chance.

Natalia Romanova had been trained by the Winter Soldier. Natalia Romanova let herself love, once, and it had backfired. Natalia Romanova had been a child who knew nothing about the real world.

But now she was Natasha Romanoff. And Natasha Romanoff had a perfect poker face.