Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.

Note: The image can be viewed on my tumblr Lovedrr tagged 'pic-fics' post #107499217250.

Image source: Marvel movie "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" (2014).

Scarred Soul

Washington, D.C.

Primary Care Facility

3:03 p.m.

"Bye bye, bikinis," Natasha "The Black Widow" Romanoff whispered with a small smirk which hid the pain in her heart underneath it.

Inside, she didn't feel… nice. There was so much red in her ledger, there were so many lives she had taken, and there were so many deceptions she had portrayed, that she just didn't think she would ever be free of the overwhelming guilt. To her, it seemed as if her physical body had begun to outwardly display the darkness in her soul. Her skin was marred with cuts, bruises and various war scars which she had learned to hide over the years. Men often found her to be attractive, but when she looked in the mirror, her own reflection scorned her.

"I bet you look terrible in them now," Steve "The Captain" Rogers' voice cut through her silent reverie.

Inside her chest, her heart stopped beating. Using reverse sarcasm, the most honest, upstanding and virtuous man she had ever met in her entire life had just told her that he felt she was still attractive. An ember deep inside the cold smoldering remains of what was once her heart started to spark back to life. Her gaze faltered, and when she looked back up at him, she gave him what he wanted and held out the flash drive to him.

The soldier took the precious flash drive from her hand… and then dropped it to the floor.

"Rogers, what ..."

"You had a memory lapse," he told her calmly, his gaze still intense upon her. "You should remember in a moment. See?"

Steve motioned over his shoulder, and the spy took a hard look. There was a television on in the room across the hallway, and it was showing a current news report. There were quick flashes of the outcome of a recent massive conflict. The infamous Winter Soldier had been apprehended and was being taken into friendly custody by a very much alive and well Nicholas J. Fury, several undercover Hydra agents were being arrested, and the body of Alexander Pierce was being removed from the remains of the Triskelion on a stretcher.

"What happened?" she asked carefully.

"It's all over. Everything's okay, now," Steve told her with tender caring in his deep voice. "You're more important than any mission there is, Natasha."

The lonely spy stopped moving completely. The soldier now had her undivided attention. She couldn't believe the words she had just heard. All her life, she had been trained to understand that the mission was paramount. It was all important. Her life was insignificant and meaningless. For someone… a honest man… to say those words to her shook her to her core. She tried to maintain her detached facial expression, but her eyes belied the deep emotions roiling beneath the surface.

"What… What are you saying, Rogers?" she managed.

"I'm talking about this," the soldier told her as he slowly reached forward to place his large hands on her hips and gently lift her shirt again.

With a soft caress, Steve's thumb slid over the torn scar on her waist. He looked down at it with caring eyes, staring at it intently. Natasha stood speechless, stunned into inactivity by his forward actions. As she watched, Steve slowly dropped to one knee in front of her, still focused on her damaged body. Her dazed mind told her that maybe he just wanted to get a better look at it, to verify her story, and was just proceeding in some bizarre unusual fashion.

His looking at her this intensely, as if she were under a microscope, was incredibly disconcerting. It was truly so very nice to be seen, to be noticed, to be given attention as a person instead of only for her deadly skill set. However, it was hurtful to her as well. There was blood on her hands, her body was scarred and marred, and she was not worthy of adoration. She closed her eyes for a moment.

"Natasha," Steve's voice called to her in a soft whisper.

He waited until her green eyes opened to stare down in his gorgeous blue depths.

"You're still beautiful."

Tears filled her eyes instantly, but The Black Widow wouldn't let them fall to her cheeks. Inside her, Natalia felt as if her dead heart had just been pierced with a sharp shield, and it had begun to bleed. It was a good feeling, because if the heart could lose blood, then that meant that it was still alive. Perhaps… her heart wasn't dead after all.

Natasha tried to speak. She opened her mouth, but no words uttered from her lips. Before she could try again, her breath caught in her throat in a deep gasp.

Steve leaned forward and kissed her scar. His lips were gentle yet firm, kind but strong, tender and still hard. It was the kind of touch that a woman needs from a man to heal her shattered soul.

It was too much. The Black Widow was incapable of handling or processing this kind of caring, and she retreated into herself. Her hands raised to reach for his shoulders to push him away. As if anticipating her resistance, the soldier's hands moved in sync with her, taking a hold of her small fingers inside his large ones and carefully pushing them back against the hospital wall behind her.

With her defenses now faltered, he kissed her scar again. This time, the spy's head fell back against the wall at her back, and her green eyes stared up at the white ceiling above her. She felt him kiss the damaged flesh a third time, his wet warm tongue grazing the skin, and a single tear slid down The Black Widow's cheek.

Suddenly, Steve's lips kissed her skin below her scar. Natasha's eyes widened, and she lost her breath as her heart skipped a beat. For a moment, she assumed that it must have been a slip or mistake, but then he kissed her waist again… even lower.

Natasha looked down at him in shock, her lips having fallen slightly open. Steve didn't look up at her, as he remained ever the soldier focused only on his mission. He released her hands but she kept them on the wall behind her. Then, he grasped the sides of her lower garments to pull them down with him as he moved. Her eyes fell closed again, this time allowing herself to feel the warm pleasure… and soft joy… of accepting the adoration he was giving her.

His lips trailed lower, and the spy began to pant breathlessly.

He kissed her… even lower… and she started to shiver.

Lower… and her lips opened to scream ...

… as her eyes snapped open and she sat up in her bed with a deep gasp. Natasha was covered in sweat, her body was trembling, and her sheets were wet… so was she.

Another dream. It had been another dream… just like all the others.

The spy raised a hand to run through her silken red hair in heated frustration. She tried to calm her rapid breathing and racing heart. With a hand over her eyes, she laid back down on her pillow.

Natasha really wished that these dreams about Steve would stop… or just keep going… without end…