A/N: One more chapter after this! Please read and review! (updating schedule may change a bit because I'm going to Comic Con to meet Sebastian Stan!)
14. By the ones who always stand to profit from our loss
She twists around, bringing her heel down hard on the head of the nearest man. He drops, but she knows he will get back up; he was wearing a helmet. Another man runs at her while she is distracted and knocks her to the floor. Rolling, she gets herself away and back on her feet again, but she's lost ground. There are too many of them, and they are prepared for her, while she was not for them. She loses Clint and soon finds herself backing down a corridor, alarm bells ringing in her head as she feels the walls closing in around her.
It's somewhat fortunate that the hallway opens onto a small utility room, giving her more space to maneuver. It also bottlenecks her attackers, but she knows she will not last long without help. Out of ammo, she moves as fast as she can to bring down as many men as possible, even if it is only temporary. When there are four men on the ground, she has a moment to breathe while five more stand back and assess her, perhaps considering shooting her. Then she dives forward.
Suddenly, she finds herself with each arm held immobile by a man, while another is approaching her. She is quickly searching for an escape route when a metal hand wraps around his neck and he is swung against the wall with bone-shattering force. The men holding her tighten their grip and pull her back as the Winter Soldier steps into view. Two other men are in the room with them, and are brought down in a matter of moments. He turns to look at her, and her captors, and takes a step forward before reinforcements come at him from behind. One in particular is quite large and heavily armored. She watches in suspense as he fights them, bringing several down at a time.
A touch on her waist makes her look down, and she sees one of the men holding her grab one of her taser disks. "James!" she cries to warn him as he throws it.
James has his metal hand wrapped around the throat the man in an armored suit, and the man holding her is aiming for this. He lifts his other hand at the last moment and catches it, a guttural sound escaping him as it shocks his body, but his arm keeps its hold on what would surely become a significant threat. The grip on her arms slackens just enough in their surprise for her to break free. She kicks one and elbows the other, then plunges into the melee. In a matter of moments, she is standing, breathing hard, in the center of the room and there are men on the floor all around.
"James!" she cries, running over to him. He is on his knees, still being shocked, his hand closed tightly over the windpipe of the now-dead officer. She wrenches his right hand open to get rid of the disk, getting a little shocked in the process, and kneels beside him, arm around his shoulders.
"You always amaze me," he mutters, nodding toward the fallen men.
She bites her lip, pushing down the question she wants to ask, and helps him silently to his feet. "You're not so bad yourself," she answers after a moment. "What are you doing here?"
Something flickers in his eyes, disappointment, maybe, and he looks away. "Steve brought me to help," he says emotionlessly.
"It's appreciated. I don't know if I would have been able to walk out of here," she says sincerely, cocking her head as she listens for any other threats.
"I'm sure you would have been fine," he murmurs, moving away from her and toward the hallway to leave.
She wants him to stop, to explain to her what he was thinking when he said "always," but she decides that would be better discussed at a later time. Taking a couple pistols off the men around her, easier than reloading, she follows him down the narrow passage. It is surprising how silently he can move, she thinks, watching him. They reach the main room at last and he stops walking, listening. He slowly lowers himself into a defensive stance, glancing at her briefly, and she hears approaching footsteps.
"Oh, thank God," Steve says as he bursts through the door, Clint quick on his heels. James stands again, a slight smile of greeting on his face.
"Glad to see you got out of that, Nat," Clint adds.
"Me too. Good thing you brought James," she tells Steve, who looks pleased.
"Everyone's okay?" Steve asks, looking quickly between the three of them.
"Yeah, we'll be fine," Natasha answers, glancing at James to verify the statement. His eyes meet hers for a moment, a strange expression on his face.
"Okay, let's head upstairs," Captain America orders. She looks at him in surprise, but nods. There are more men up there, plus whatever they are protecting. It's why she and Clint came here in the first place.
They fall into a sort of formation and move toward the stairs. Steve leads the way, with Clint a little behind. She is following Clint, and James stays close to her. Steve has his shield up, Clint has his bow somewhat drawn, she holds her pistols at the ready, but James just walks, his rifle slung over his shoulder. When he catches her looking at him, he gives her a small smile, then continues to survey their surroundings, searching for threats. She forces herself to focus on the mission at hand.
The building appears empty, silent, as they make their way down the hallway between apartments and up the large staircase at the front. There is no sign of immediate threats, or even any occupation, when they reach the main area in the front of the floor. Steve motions for them to fan out and continue, and they spread out against the walls. Natasha is not surprised when James remains nearby, but bites her lip as she considers his behavior.
Suddenly, a grenade rolls into their midst. She recoils automatically, but James rushes forward and grabs it with his left hand, tossing it out the window in the few seconds it takes to go off. He has to duck to avoid the broken glass, and she pulls back as well, but they are otherwise unharmed.
"Good job, Buck," Steve mutters while Clint pinpoints where the projectile came from and shoots one of his exploding arrows in that direction.
After it goes off, there is chaos everywhere. She fires into what seems like an endless supply of HYDRA soldiers coming toward them, sometimes forced to fight more personally when they get too close. She is aware of her allies fighting around her, and a small part of her considers how to better approach this situation as she kicks and punches men wearing armor. Some of them stay down, some of them she has to shoot to keep down.
A blinding light from a flash grenade forces her to cover her eyes, and the next thing she knows, she's on her back. A heavy weight is on her chest, and fingers close around her throat. She fumbles for her Widow's Bites, but someone grabs her arms and pins them to the floor. Breathing with difficulty, she glares up at the large man holding her down, who smiles. His grip tightens, and she starts to see black spots float around her vision. She feels herself being lifted off the ground and flung roughly across the room, slamming into the wall and dropping to the floor in a heap. The pressure returns to her throat and she reaches groggily to stop it as she is again picked up and thrown. Glass shatters around her and she is vaguely aware of going out a window.
Something cold wraps around her wrist, arresting her fall. She reaches automatically with her other hand to grab at the something, which she realizes is James' arm. His other hand grasps hers and he pulls her back into the building. She stumbles a little when he sets her on her feet, and he wraps an arm around her waist to hold her steady, watching her intently.
"Thanks," she says quietly, holding onto his shoulder.
"No problem," he replies, looking away.
She surveys the room. There is some kind of device the size of a crate in the back corner, with only a handful of men remaining to guard it. Steve and Clint are back a little ways, fighting the larger group of agents in what was likely the living room. James and she are in a bedroom. Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen, but this realization brings a little smirk to her face.
"You ready?" he asks, raising his arm to block the bullets being fired at them.
"Always," she answers, and darts forward. After she's taken down two of the men, which requires a little more effort than she expects, she looks around to find that James has handled the rest. He is standing still, watching her. She smiles at him, then walks over to the device. It is about three feet wide, four feet tall, and five feet long, completely metal with piping and blinking lights. Still, it seems to be a box-like shape, and looks to have a lid.
"How are they doing?" she questions, glancing back at James.
He looks in the direction of Steve and Clint, then back to her. "They've got only two guys left. Should be joining us any minute."
"Do you think we should wait to open this till then?"
His brow furrows as he frowns at her. "Yes." He walks up to stand beside her, looking down at it. "What is it?"
"I don't know. But since HYDRA had it far more heavily guarded than we expected, it's probably not something we should just leave laying around," she replies.
"It looks heavy," he points out dubiously.
"Good thing we have a couple of guys with super strength to help us move it," she answers with a grin.
He smiles slightly back. "I'm sure that's what they wanted us for: to lift heavy objects."
Laughing briefly, she looks toward Steve and Clint. They've knocked everyone down and are headed over. "James, can I ask you something?" she whispers quickly.
"What is it, Natalia?" he murmurs with a puzzled frown.
"What you said earlier – " she begins.
"Well, that was a fun way to spend the morning," Clint interjects, plucking an arrow out of a man nearby.
"What is this thing?" Steve asks, walking over toward it. His eyes flicker between James and Natasha, and settle on her, questioning more than just the mission.
"We don't know. We didn't expect to find anything valuable here, just some prisoners," she replies.
Steve nods. "You okay, Buck?" he asks, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder.
James winces. "Yeah, just a little shocked. I'll be fine."
"Good. Should we transport this back to the tower?" he asks, looking at Clint then Natasha.
"I'm not carrying that thing," Clint answers as he moves around the room to collect his arrows.
James shrugs when Steve looks at him, and Natasha steps forward. "I think we should know what it is before we take it home with us," she suggests, and feels around for a locking mechanism. Steve looks at her with some distress, but doesn't intervene. Finding it, she pulls the lid open and a blast knocks her backward, into the far wall.
She is aware of lying in a heap on the floor, again, but feels arms wrap around her and pull her into a semi-reclined position. "Natalia, Natalia, please wake up," James voice is urgent in her ear. Her eyes flicker open and she sees his face upside-down above her, and is confused. Then she realizes she is lying with her head on his lap, his human hand on her shoulder, close to her face.
"James?" she murmurs weakly.
"Natalia!" he cries in relief, and kisses her.