Bucky
Of course she's dead when his memories come back.
He dreams of rows upon rows of girls. Tight buns and bright lipstick. The best Red Room could offer up. Vying for the chance to take down the ghost….and the prize. A new name, new skill-set, new life. Black Widow.
None of them lasted against him.
His dream self moves his arm. Metallic movements and then he sees the blood. A girl limps away, her hand clenched on her waist. "NEXT." A handler bellows and he flinches.
A new challenger. He focused in on her feet. Bare and calloused. A tattoo number on her wrist catches him next. 52. Then striking eyes and a braid of red hair. Instinctively he knew that she was the one.
The fight passes in a blur and then he's down. Pinned under the girl, inches from her skin and the smell of antiseptic. Her breath is hot against his cheek and suddenly it's not a dream, but a memory. Thoughts press against it and the dream bursts into them.
He understands why she said it, now. "You could at least remember me."
At the memorial, he'd dismissed Steve's recollection as what he'd wished Nat could have said. "Some move on, but not us." It sounds like a pep talk from a different time and a different Captain. Maybe two broken warriors, but Bucky couldn't imagine Natasha and Steve broken. But now….
She never did forget him.
He wakes to Steve bolting up in bed, his voice choking. "But not us!" He cries and Bucky can hear his friend snap.
"Buck?"
He's a 10 year old brooklyn kid again. Steve's on home arrest for something that only he would have caught and Buck's sneaking comics and cookies through the windows. He climbed over Sam's blanket pile and stumbled over a pillow. "Steve?"
Silence. Bucky isn't fooled. He flopped down in front of him and looked at the ceiling. "I knew her. Or our past selves knew each other."
"You shot her. I know."
He shifted to face his friend. Steve was watching him. "No. I knew her before Black Widow." Bucky licked his lips. "Nat… Natalia Romanova." It felt strange saying it aloud. Like a magic moment lost it's spell. "We worked together. Among other...things."
Steve snickers and its a weight off his shoulders. "Things?"
He hasn't felt this awkward in a long while. "Yeah," Exhale. "Things."
Steve leaned forward. "What kind of things?" He goaded.
Bucky fought his blush back into a dangerous smirk. "Sharon things."
Steve gagged and Bucky threw a fake punch at him. They wrestle for a moment. Steve wins by throwing most of his body weight over him, pinning him down. "Funny, she had me like this too." Bucky teased.
Steve tried to shove him off and he gripped the blankets. "Buck, I swear…"
Bucky pushed himself up and looked at him. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
He does. Bucky can see it in the depth of his eyes, the way his shoulders bent. "I need to move on," Steve said.
"Not us," He leans forward and they're two kids from Brooklyn again. "You need to get your life back."