Back with another short chapter before Christmas! This just capitalizes on Natasha's past. The story picks up again next chapter, and I think many of you will enjoy what is to come in two chapters ;). Merry Christmas!

Why do I have to keep saying that I don't own Captain America? I know this already…

As usual, the calm blackness of her subconscious only lasted an hour or so before the skeletons came. She was surrounded, without weapons, helpless. Surrounded by the faces of people she had killed, young and old. Their blood gushed onto the floor, warming her boots as they continued to approach her.

"Why did you do it?" a young girl asked Natasha, her head lolling to the side in a doll-like fashion.

"It-it wasn't me. They were controlling me. They put thoughts in my head. They forced me into submission," she stammered.

"They," the little girl whispered. "Funny how you blame them when you were the one holding the gun. You could have stopped yourself. But you were so afraid of them that you would do anything to save yourself. Including murdering an innocent witness."

"They would have killed me if I didn't listen," Natasha said back, trying to prove a point. To find a way to not be guilty.

"You could have saved us. Instead, you chose to save yourself."

The blood flowed faster until it was drowning her. She sputtered, forcing the liquid out from around her face.

"I had no choice!" she screamed until the blood began to sink down, away from her form. She collapsed to the ground, her hair sticky with the crimson liquid, her breath ragged as she struggled to keep her tears hidden. "I thought that maybe I was doing something good. My mind was corrupted. It wasn't my fault. I regret what I did."

"Yet you still have nightmares about what you did," a voice whispered from the darkness around her as the corpses began to dissipate into smoke around her.

All of the faces. The hundreds of people she had killed. Innocents, guilty, maybe neither, they all haunted her. She found no remorse in their dead eyes as they haunted her dreams. No matter how much she tried to forget what she had done, it would follow her forever. Because one way or another, she would always be the one to blame. She was the direct cause of their demise.

"Maybe you should feel the bullets for a change," the voices continued.

Figures appeared out of the smoke, each one holding a gun. They all took aim, hundreds of weapons on her.

They all fired, tearing her flesh in places until she was the one lying, bleeding out on the floor, instead of them.

Once again, Natasha woke up with tears streaked across her cheeks, gasping for breath. It took her a moment to realize that she was in Steve's apartment, sleeping on the couch. It was dead quiet in the room, the only sound coming from her as she fought to regain her composure.

The past was the past, but she was still haunted by it.

As her life as an assassin went on, the number of faces would only increase. Her nightmares would get worse until they would most likely drive her insane.

So she could stick to being an assassin, the only thing she knew how to do, and eventually be driven mad, or she could find something else to do with her life. The second option wasn't really an option at all. More like a wish that she wanted to be able to have, but it would always be out of her reach.

Her breathing back to was normal. The clock only read 12:24. She wanted it desperately to go faster. But staying up until the morning was not an option if she wanted to be able to march into the hospital in the morning as if she owned the place.

She fell back into a light doze as her mind persisted on not letting her sleep.

"Natasha," a voice said. Once again, she was in a nightmarish version of her past. Although, this time, she was back on the beach, watching Steve bleed out before her eyes. The Winter Soldier was nowhere to be seen, but the damage he had caused was evident.

"Steve!" she yelled and ran towards him. He gave a small smile, his teeth red with blood.

"What took you so long?"

"I had to find you. Oh gosh. Steve, what happened?" she asked as she struggled to apply pressure to all of his wounds. His eyes were open slightly, his usually bright blue eyes had faded to a blueish gray.

"Why didn't you get here faster?" he asked, struggling to understand why his partner would take so long to save him.

"I had no idea where you were," she started. "Steve. Eyes open. You are not leaving me."

"Easy for you to say. You aren't the one in a wrestling match with death."

His eyes closed. The blood continued to flow out of his wounds, covering the slits in between her fingers.

"Steve, Steve. You have never given up before. I will not let you give up now," Natasha said as she shook him slightly. He did not respond. She checked for a pulse, but was not met with one. Her bloodstained fingers left a red mark on his neck as she sat back and took her hands away from his body.

Because of her, Steve was dead. If she had just been faster, gotten there sooner, she could have helped.

Sure, someone else had injured him, but it had been up to her to save him and she had failed. Again.

She sat back into the sand, defeated. This was one of the worse nightmares. She was close to saving someone, to maybe redeeming part of her soul, but as usual, she was not successful. Even though he was alive in real life, for now, his face would begin to haunt her dreams because in an alternate version of reality, she had failed to save him.

Maybe she had still failed to save him. For all Natasha knew, Steve was dead in the hospital, waiting for someone to take him away.

When she awoke again, sunlight was starting to stream through the window. Natasha got up off the couch and filled up a glass with water. She drank it all in one gulp, trying to rid herself of the sweat that was sheening her brow. Her hand shook as she set the glass down.

Natasha then pulled on her boots and left the house, bound for the hospital. The cool air bit at her exposed skin, making her feel alive, reminding her that this was real life, that she still had a job to do. The walk there was quiet one, so quiet that she could almost hear the ghosts of her past following her, plaguing her thoughts, waiting for the right time to render her useless to the rest of the world.

I hope you all enjoyed! The next chapter is almost done and should be up on Friday. Happy Holidays!