A/N: Hope you are enjoying the story. Just to clarify this story is beginning in Captain America: Winter Soldier. But I am sure you all picked up on that lol. Hope you enjoy this chapter -Cat
Chapter Two
Natasha
"Everything fitting ok?" Maria asked me, looking up from the hemline of the blue business suit I am wearing.
"Yeah, it'll be fine." I move to swing my shoulders but instantly stop, flinching at the pain in my left shoulder, from the gun shot wound. I feel so irritated by my own physical limitations I could punch something.
"Easy now." Maria scolds gently. I look at her with a raised eyebrow, "Look," She snaps briskly, "We all have our roles to play here. Don't need you bleeding through your bandage, blowing your cover, before we get what we need."
I roll my eyes but she is right.
"Hey there," I look up at the door way and see Steve hovering in it.
"Captain," Maria says.
"Uh, can you give us a minute Agent Hill?" Steve asks as he steps into the room. Doing that annoying thing where he looks up at you from under his brow, even though he already towers over most people. Ugh, those puppy dog eyes, its enough to make your teeth fall out. I hate how much I love him. I freeze at the casual thought. No, just another box that the lid needs to slammed down on, hard and fast.
"Sure thing Cap," Maria gets up and leaves the room without a backwards glance.
Gingerly I cross my arms. "All dressed up for a night on the town?" I tease him as my eyes wander over his scavenged uniform. Very retro. I must say, I like it compared what he was wearing in New York, more understated.
He chuckles, looking at the ground as he comes to stand in front of me. Since I am standing on a stepping stool for Maria to fix the hemline, we are eye level with each other. "How's your shoulder?" He asks me, his eyes wandered over to it, currently under thick blue fabric.
"Oh, I've had worse." I say nonchalantly.
"What's another scar right?" He says raising an eyebrow. I think back to what feels like an eternity ago when I showed him the scar on my abdomen, his response to my comment about bikinis. It makes my stomach feel like it has dropped to somewhere around my ankles but that feeling quickly goes away when he looks up at me and his eyes look sad, heavy.
I feel my self go still, "What's up Steve?" I ask, worried about him. Worried about what exactly the truth about Bucky is currently doing to him.
He shakes his head looking back at the door. "I dunno," he looks back at me from under his lashes. Steve is so perfect, I just want to reach out and touch his face, his cheekbone. I could study his face for hours and not get bored. I mean, he may find it a bit intense... What was in those pain killers the doc gave me? I blink out of my wandering train of thought when he adds, "Look after yourself out there, ok?"
I smirk, "What, don't you know I can take care of myself yet?" I tease in a flippant, cavalier way, so as not to reveal how much his concern really means to me.
...Then he goes ahead and says words that are so wonderful to hear I just about have to pinch myself to make sure this is real. "Damn it Nat, I'm being serious. Be careful." As he speaks he reaches out and takes my arms, holding on to me tightly, hence not having to pinch myself. I stare back at him, caught off guard by his impassioned plea. "You've been shot, you aren't 100%, just look out for yourself ok?" His eyes are pleading. He looks so scared for me. It opens the box...
Maybe there is something there? Maybe he does see me for more than what I was created to be...I blink away the ridiculous notions.
I nod my head slowly, brow furrowing, "You know that is the only reason I am not coming in with you right?" I want him to know that, how much I hate not being there to cover his back. He has Sam, but still. I would feel more comfortable if he had me. By his side. Well, a non-shot version of me.
He smirks at my words, but his eyes are serious, "Promise me, if you cross paths with-" I already know who he is talking about, Bucky, the Winter Soldier. I hope he can read in my eyes, that I know what he is trying to say. He must because he continues, "Just promise me, you'll turn the other way."'
It is a ridiculous request, offensive even. What if it's Bucky versus Steve and he needs my help? What then? Am I supposed to shrug my shoulders and walk away, keep my fingers crossed that Steve will win? He doesn't know what he is asking me, he doesn't know what it is like to be the killing machine, to have no emotion driving you. Your humanity turned off, tucked away into its own little box. Just like everything else that is supposed to make you human. Your mind becomes boxes, that are only opened when your handlers allow them to. "You know you can't ask that of me." I say quietly, I don't want to disappoint him again.
"Please, Nat." His eyes are huge, I feel my breath coming quicker, "if anything happened to you, because of him. He already-" his eyes wander to my shoulder, I feel his hand on my right arm tighten, his other moves up, his thumb lightly brushes over the shoulder pad of the suit. He looks back at me, his eyes are a whirl of emotion, fear, regret, confusion, rage, concern. "Just please, promise me."
I realise then, he is terrified of Bucky killing me, his best friend ending my life or hurting me again. I find myself nodding, without really knowing what I was agreeing to. "Alright," I say like it doesn't go against everything in me. Knowing it's a lie. That if it came down to it, I would throw myself between Steve and Bucky if it meant saving Steve's life.
But his eyes don't release me that easily, "Promise me Nat,"
"I promise, Steve."