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I'm still listening, we're still struggling

So Barnes was staying. That was good – it meant he didn't blame her for what happened. And hopefully meant that there wasn't much else in that book about which they should be concerned.

She let herself be relieved that he was going to stay but wouldn't be anything more than that. There was work to do and she couldn't get distracted by ghosts from her past. He wasn't the Winter Soldier anymore. And she had no right to be disappointed by that. Besides, getting to know Bucky better was intriguing. He was like the Soldier, but also very much not like the Soldier. It was strange to consider how they'd basically carved out his memories and his personality, but what remained was still distinctly the same man.

So she recognized this new person as a more fleshed-out version of the one she'd known all those years ago. And, if she was being honest, she supposed she was also a more fleshed-out version of whom she'd been back then. Not that he'd shown any signs of remembering. His comment about her hair was a bit odd, but it made sense that he would have been keeping tabs on Steve. And wondering about the woman he spent time with was part of that.

There was no reason to think anything else was going on. And if there were… While she showered, it occurred to her that he might be inexplicably interested in her without knowing about their history. What would she do if that were the case? She'd have to tell him. Let him know how it ended and suggest his feelings were just residuals from then.

Romance wasn't an option for her. You don't get raised under Red Room conditions and end up able to trust anyone to get close to you. She'd tried with Banner, but, well, she'd had a closer connection to the Other Guy. Which made sense – relating more to a monster. Whether Madame B and the others had made her that way, or whether it was just in her nature was a mystery. An irrelevant mystery.

Bucky Barnes was not a monster. The Winter Soldier might have been, but he was gone now. It would be too selfish for her to want him to come back just because she missed connecting with someone. So she would work with Barnes, maybe become friends, and then send him back to Steve.


Natasha spent another sleepless night going over intel and searching for where Yelena might go to ground. There were a number of options, she narrowed it down to a half dozen. A place to start, anyway. At dawn, she woke Barnes and they left Rhapastan, heading for Porto, Portugal. Her last mission for Fury had suggested the place, and the intel she was able to gather indicated it was suspicious. She'd sent a message to Nick asking him for any more information he might have, but hadn't heard back yet.

It was early afternoon when they arrived in the city. She'd been mentally practicing her Portuguese – it hadn't been one of the high priority languages in her youth and she'd always struggled a little with it. Same with Spanish and Italian – they were similar enough for her to get mixed up sometimes. Not to mention that her Russian handlers hadn't considered any of them overly important, no doubt for some political reason.

Barnes was a very quiet travel companion. He only spoke when spoken to and always seemed to be trying to make himself smaller. Like Steve usually did when he wasn't being Captain America. She didn't think it was a holdover from their upbringing – she figured it was because neither were used to or comfortable with their size. The bitter thought occurred to her that she was all too aware of how someone else making physical changes to your body could alter your mindset.

There was no safe house in Portugal, so she found them a hotel. She always stayed in nice hotels, preferably the kind that rich people might use for assignations and/or coke weekends, so the staff weren't going to ask any questions, while the seedy people she was generally following wouldn't be admitted. It wasn't a perfect system, but she figured she might as well be comfortable while she was risking her life.

Their room was more of a suite with a lounge area and big windows. Barnes paused in the doorway, taken aback, but she walked in like it was familiar. Which it sort of was – hotels all looked the same after a while. He went to the window and looked out while she scanned the room.

"When I was a kid, I never would have thought I'd be somewhere like this," he said quietly as he took in the view of the bay.

"No?" she asked with a smile.

He glanced over at her for a moment with a rueful expression. "Yeah. Hell, I can barely believe it now."

Joining him at the window, she considered a response. "It's not what people in our line of work generally get to enjoy," she agreed thoughtfully.

His attention turned to her and she was suddenly very aware of how close she was standing – it took an effort to look up at him without taking a step back. He was watching her intently, seeming like he wanted to say something. She couldn't imagine what that might be, and was torn between wanting to hear him out and wanting to forestall dealing with whatever he might say.

"Do you… usually spend time in places like this?" he asked softly – definitely not what she was expecting.

"Sometimes," she answered.

"If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?"

The intensity of his gaze made a little more sense now – it was a personal question. And no doubt one which he'd had to think about a great deal. "Pokrov." She hadn't planned on telling the truth, but it was unusually easy to trust him with it – something she might need to be careful of in the future.

His brow furrowed slightly. "That's near Moscow, isn't it?" She nodded. "It's where you're from?" he added gently.

She pressed her lips together briefly. "I'm not sure. It's where my parents are buried."

"Oh." He was staring past her as though this information was a lot to take in.

"Where would you go?" she prompted.

Blinking, he focused on her again. "I don't know," he replied with a shrug and slight smile. "Most of the places I knew aren't there anymore."

"James, I –"

It was fortunate that her phone rang at that moment because she wasn't sure what she was going to say. What she might have been foolish enough to say.

"Romanoff," she said as she turned away from the window.

"You'll have to go up the river. There's a warehouse owned by one of Kronas' subsidiaries. Seems a few more scientists have gone missing lately and one was spotted in the area. Even if she's not there, you can rescue these guys," Fury told her without preamble.

"Yes, sir."

There was a pause. "We couldn't find much on Belova but I've got some of my best people on it. If there's anything out there, we'll find it."

"Thank you," she told him earnestly. He hung up and she put her phone away, aware that Barnes hadn't moved. "Shall we go scope the place out, James?"

"Sure. What place?" he asked, turning from the window to face her again.

"I was escorting a scientist out of Korea when he was kidnapped a few months back. I found him and some others being held captive by a front called Kronas. Lukin was heading the operation. He's in custody, but looks like Yelena's keeping things going because more scientists have disappeared. One was seen near here, and there's a warehouse owned by a Kronas offshoot just up the river," she explained.

He nodded. "So what's the plan?"

Shrugging, she grabbed her coat. "We go do some recon, grab lunch, come back for an afternoon nap, then go as soon as it's dark?"

"Sounds good," he replied with a smile.


The place was not hard to find, and looked easy enough to get into. There were a few entrances, a handful of guards, and no obvious tech to keep them out. Lunch was bacalhau and then they were back at the hotel. Tired as she was, it took some time to fall asleep. She was just about to drop off when she heard something she'd hoped never to hear again.

Screaming. That unending, agonized screaming that she thought he'd only do when they put him in that machine. But apparently dreams about it were just as effective.

She sat up abruptly, then slowly climbed out of bed, watching him writhe. "James. Bucky. James," she tried quietly, soothingly as she moved closer. It could be dangerous to get too close and she was considering what to do when he froze.

He jumped out of bed as though it burned him and almost ran into her. "Natalia?" he asked, blinking.

"Just a nightmare," she told him.

Dropping back down heavily, he pulled his knees against his chest and buried his face in his arms. Hesitantly, she sat down next to him and touched his back. When he didn't recoil, she slowly ran her hand along his shoulders comfortingly.

"It's alright, you're safe now." If he'd had nightmares when they'd known each other before, she hadn't been aware. She was suddenly reminded of her own sleeplessness back then, and how he'd helped her to relax enough to rest. Which made it difficult to focus on the present.

"Natalia, I – I'm sorry," he murmured, voice rough.

She leaned against him lightly. "It's fine, James. Happens to all of us," she assured him.

"Even you?" he asked, looking up at her sharply.

"Yes, James. Even me," she told him with a grim smile. "We still have a few hours before we need to go, but we can get out of this room if you think it would help."

"I'll be fine." Despite his insistence, she could tell he wasn't as he stared at the blanket in front of him. Slowly she got to her feet and returned to her own bed, to try in vain to get some sleep.