Author's note: Thank you guys for the reviews and follows. Here's the next chapter. I must warn you, though, it's the last chapter before the epilogue. Yep, you read it right. LAST chapter. Enjoy and leave a review, please :)
The next day was rough. For the first time in many weeks, Natasha went back to feeling the same she did when she was grieving for Steve. And in fact the truth was she had just lost him again and almost with the same violence as the first time. Not only had she pushed herself out of his life, she had done so by crushing his heart. Maybe he would forgive her – because it was in his nature, but never would she forgive herself.
It felt even harder to go through that day knowing he was in the city too, and this, for the next six days.
She forbade herself to go see him because she refused to afflict him even one more ounce of pain.
By the second day, she forbade herself to go watch him from a distance because she refused to afflict herself any more pain.
Three days later, she was walking in the quiet streets near Manhattan – as she refused to risk bumping into him in Brooklyn. As enjoyable New York City was in 1943, she was also projecting herself back in the future for many obvious reasons. Truth was this mission had turned out to be more mentally exhausting than expected and she now looked forward to ending it soon and going back to a more normal life (who would have thought she'd ever call her life 'normal'). And she missed Clint. In fact, she had missed him all those weeks long; she knew he would have found the right words to take her mind off of her sentimental issues (something like a tasteless joke that yet always had the knack to amuse her).
She walked back a post office when something caught of her attention. She halted and looked at it from where she was standing. An old propaganda poster with Steve, dressed as former USO show star Captain America. The paper had taken a brownish color and the corners and edges were worn out. 'Captain America salutes you for buying war bonds,' it read. It struck her how Steve had gone a long way and how lucky she was to have witnessed it. A little boy and his mother walked past in front of her, and she watched as the boy trailed off behind, slowing down his mother who was holding his hand as he looked up in awe at the poster.
'Mommy,' the boy exclaimed, shaking down her hand. 'I want to be like Captain America when I grow up.'
His mother turned, glanced at the poster than down at her son with a smile.
'And you're right, sweetie. The world could definitely use more heroes.'
She pulled her son's arm to make him resume walking. The boy complied and stepped away completely riveted by the picture and unable to divert his eyes until the distance made him.
Natasha was silent, stunned, as the undeniable reality caught her up. The world always needed heroes, and she knew her world was the one that needed the most. Steve's words from the other night echoed in her head, 'I feel whole when I'm captain America.' She realized how Captain America's path wouldn't be complete if she cut it short. Captain America was meant be the hero people would look upon: not just a super soldier of the Second World War but a timeless protector…an Avenger. She had been so blinded by her desire to give him the normal she thought he deserved that she forgot how extraordinary Steve had always been. And an extraordinary person was bound for a destiny greater than him. Although she had seen Steve miss his life from 1942, she never heard him thrive for a quiet one. In fact, Steve stopped being nostalgic as soon as he put on his Captain America and went to fight for freedom and justice. Yes, she could say he was whole during the many battles they had fought together.
And now she understood how she couldn't take that away from him and from all the other people in 2015 who needed a hero to give them hope. Perhaps, after all, his crashing in the ice was the gift made to her generation.
She couldn't obviously ignore the fact that the prospect of going back to a future where Steve would be pleased her immensely but she was positive she was making this new decision without putting her feelings and desires in the equation. She would let Steve meet with his destiny because, as much as she believed that people made their future, she liked the idea of a world being bestowed upon the hero it deserved.
Her decision was made: she wouldn't interfere with the future and let fate work its magic.
She waited by the corner of the road the next Friday evening with the cinema in sight. People started to step out and her eyes mechanically searched through the many faces to spot the ones she was looking for. She locked her gaze on Steve, dressed in civilian clothes, walking slightly behind Barnes, hands in his pockets and silent, while Barnes seemed to be enthusiastically commenting on the film they had just watched. Their demeanors were at opposite poles but it didn't seem to bother Barnes who was simply balancing it out with intense chatting.
She waited until the street cleared out, took a breath in and swiftly walked across the road towards them. She waited for them to turn round the corner to a less frequented street and sped up the pace.
'Steve,' she called.
He stood still instantly, faster than what it should normally be, as if his whole body had been programmed to halt at the sound of her voice. He turned and looked at her ardently. Barnes reacted two seconds later, slowed down and turned around with a quizzical look.
Steve hadn't detached his gaze and neither had she.
'Natalie?' he murmured in the softest way she had ever heard him say it. He said her name like he had believed he would never get to say it out loud ever again. His eyes expressed nothing other than gentleness and appeasement.
It soothed her, it destroyed her. Why didn't he hate her? She had spent the last six days loathing herself and here he was standing offering her nothing but leniency and consideration.
'I-I need to speak with you….in private,' she said in a calm voice but with pleading eyes.
Steve turned to his best friend. A simple look exchanged worked just as well as a whole conversation between them.
'I'll be in the diner on the 56th,' Barnes said.
Natasha glanced in his direction and nodded with a grateful expression. He pressed his lips together and slightly smiled at her before walking away. Barnes had no resentful feelings towards her and she couldn't explain why. She was pretty certain he knew about the whole situation. There was something incredibly unsettling in being the only person of the group who seemed to be blaming herself.
Barnes walked away and soon there were the only two people standing in the street.
'Steve,' she started. 'I'm leaving town and I came to tell you goodbye.'
His fairly composed expression fell flat.
'Why?,' he reacted first then cut himself off and bit his bottom lip. 'I'm sorry for asking. You don't owe me any explanation.'
'Actually, I do,' she retorted, taking a step up towards him. She looked up into his blue eyes. 'You're the only person in this city who deserves a proper goodbye.'
His chest rose up and a long breath slipped out of his mouth.
'It is time for me to leave but I couldn't do it without rectifying the truth,' she spoke softly. A little smile rose to her lips. 'After all, I'm the one who can never let go a chance to set the record straight when I can see the truth staring right at me.'
It brought her back to the first days after she arrived in 1942. It all seemed so far away now.
The tendons of his neck tensed up.
'What truth?' he asked.
She leaned closer and smiled. 'That you mean everything to me.'
She felt the heavy weight of her secret lift itself off her shoulders almost immediately. A weight, it seemed, she had been carrying for far longer than the past two months she had spent here. It all became clear that it all started long before 1942. How else could she explain that it had hurt her so much to lose him? That she had volunteered to travel back in time and taken the risk to die trying rather than accepting living in a world where he didn't exist anymore? She did it all for him, because he meant everything to her, and had for a longer time than she thought before she finally allowed herself to admit it.
His pupils probed her frantically then a halo of bliss fell over him. He released the breath he had been holding in since he had asked his question. He allowed a smile to rise to his lips. She smiled too, although hers was combined with sadness. He took one step forwards but she gently pressed her hand on his forearm to stop him.
'But I still have to go,' she continued faintly.
Steve seemed like he was drowning in an ocean of confusion.
'Circumstances are that I can't stay,' she explained. She took the step forwards she had refused him just before and reached for his face, delicately cupping the side of his jaw.
'And Steve you have to forget about me,' she murmured with a breaking voice, pleading him with her eyes. It killed her to make such a request after she had just cofessed her feelings but she would rather have him move on with a clear mind than leave him with a broken heart. 'You have to.'
He closed his eyes at the feel of her hand.
'This isn't the time for us…yet,' she smiled lightly. 'We met too early and it diverted you from your path. You need to go back on track. Nothing should matter more to you than the present: Hydra, your best friend, Peggy.'
'I don't understand,' he whispered.
She shook her head.
'I know it doesn't make sense for now but trust me I thought this through. It's the right way to go,' she assured him with an appeasing voice. She thought of her decision to let him continue on that road to fall into his fate. She had to do it to serve a purpose bigger than him. 'I hope you will forgive me for my decision – that you will understand why I made the choice I did – when the time comes, but the world could use more heroes and you are exactly the hero this world needs.'
She genuinely hoped he would understand why she had decided to let him make that sacrifice of his life in the forties.
'It is a high price to pay but...' she trailed off and looked him deep in the eye as she remembered his words in the SHIELD headquarters. '…somebody once said the price of freedom is always high.'
Steve eyed her intently as she smiled reassuringly at him, clearly confused and yet seeming to impregnate himself with her words. Well, his own words, really.
He rasied his hand reaching for the one still pressed against his cheek. He gently put it on top of hers and gave her a complying nod.
'I will find my way back to you,' she spoke firmly with a determined look. She had to. She desperately needed to go back to him and travel seventy years ahead in time to keep her word. 'I promise.'
She nodded to him – to herself – then reluctantly slipped her hand out of his. It would techically tke her seventy years for them to meet again, but thankfully it was bound to happen sooner than what it sounded like.
She took a step back, unable to break eye contact with him, and eventually slowly spun on her heels to walk out the opposite way. The anguish of having altered the timeline anyway or of never reactivating the time travel device took hold of her. Chances were that it might be the last time she'd ever see him. It frightened her beyond measure; not to die, not to spend her life stuck in the wrong time, but, fundamentally, to never see him again. Thor and Tony's warnings resonated in her head like they always did every time she thought about steppig over the line, reminding her that she couldn't alter the timeline, but she had altered already when she confessed her feelings to him.
She froze on the sidewalk and closed her eyes. If this was their last goodbye, it couldn't end like this.
'Screw it,' she murmured to herself and spun back towards Steve. She leaped forwards and crushed her lips against his mouth. His lips kissed her back with the same ardor. The kiss was desperate, needy, demanding, but mostly tender and adoring.
She wrapped her arms around his neck while his hands went on to cup her face. She had forgotten what his lips tasted like since that time on the escalator and they seemed to taste better than what she remembered, jus like his natural scent intoxicated her all the way up to her brain. She was eager for more as she felt his full, plumb lips moving against hers.
It felt like an eternity, as in time froze, but then seemed to have lasted only instant as soon as her lips pulled away. Her face remained a few inches apart from his, her warm breath brushing on his skin. Steve was just as breathless as she was and carried all the innocence and the bliss of a first true kiss. He closed his eyelids and relished the moment.
Of the whole intense past two months she had spent here, this was her fullest minute of felicity, her one and only instant of stillness.
She breathed in his scent one last time then stepped away, feeling more serene and less tortured than when she was about to go one minute earlier. Steve's expression was just as similar.
She smiled, squeezed his hand then left.
She promised herself this wouldn't be their last goodbye.
Two days later, in the evening, Natasha left her NYC apartment for good. She returned the key to the concierge and was headed for the airport. Three hours later, she was on a plane to Switzerland. Upon arrival, she took a cab that drove her to the outskirts of Geneva. She stopped at a discreet inn, a little tavern where her presence would go unnoticed to spend the night there.
She woke up at dawn the next morning, not that she had slept much anyway since she had spent most of the night going over her schedule over and over again.
She wore her dark blue jumpsuit and the black heels she had found nearly two weeks before in New York. She tied her hair up in a tight and elegant bun that made her look both refined and self-disciplined, a detail that would sustain her false identity. Her make-up was polished but simple, a perfect balance to be granted any whim by the man she would catch the eye of and to blend in the crowd without being noticed nor remembered.
She put on a ridiculously expensive black coat with a grey fur collar with a fur hat of the same color and fabric. She had studied German women's fashion style seriously enough to know this outfit would automatically grant her a high status; and who said high said undisputable.
The cab she called for drove her to a little frequented train station, which, according to her sources, was mostly used for special lines and military convoy trains. At 8.14 AM, the Schnellzug EB912, Hydra's advanced train transporting Arnim Zola, would make a stop there to carry some special civilian 'guests' to a town in the south of Germany before being headed for HYDRA's headquarters. That wet without saying that her journey would be longer than the other passengers'. She still needed a ticket, though. A pass, to be more precise, that had been sold with much caution, and to some privileged Germans only.
She stood by the newspaper stand, pretending to be reading a paper while her eyes actually studied any person stepping out of a taxi or a car with chauffeur and going in the station.
A man wearing a stern, blond moustache and an expensive grey suit caught her eye. She put the newspaper down and walked straight to him at a fast pace. She bumped hardly into him, making him gasp in surprise. She let a little cry out too when they collided while her hand swiftly inside his blazer and pulled the train ticket out of his inside pocket. She hid it in the large sleeve of her coat in a perfectly choregraphed motion.
'Alle meine Entschuldigungen. Ich bin so ungeschickt!' she exclaimed in a flawless accent.
The man groaned and she gently rearranged the collar of his coat, intentionally letting her hands dwell on his chest. She smiled suavely.
'Habe ich Ihnen weh getan?' she asked with false concern.
The man's temper dropped immediately when he took a proper look at theh ravishing creature standing in front of him, glanced down at her hands on him, and realized she started being flirtatious.
He shook his head and even made a smile. Obviously, he would fall for it; all the men fell for it. All the men except Steve, not even after she had kissed him on the escalator. He was the only man who had ever resisted her charms and who hadn't fallen until she had fallen first.
'Gar nicht!' he answered with a far too enthusiastic tone for someone who had just been run into.
Now that she had what she wanted, she had to make sure she wouldn't cross his mind as a possible suspect once he would realize the ticket was gone. The whole point was that he would have to conclude he had barely lost the ticket and not have the authorities go after her.
Sticking around made her totally innocent as a thief taking the time to flirt with their victim was something totally absurd and unheard of.
'Darf ich entschuldige mich für mein Verhalten mit einem Kaffee?' she asked with the most believable seductive look.
The chances that he would blame the unfortunate disappearance of his train ticket on the elegant, wealthy lady who had been ready to spend half an hour in his company were low.
Sadly for him, it was 8:08 and she knew for a fact he would have to decline her invitation and carry his regret with him for the rest of the day.
'Ich fürchte, ich habe einen Zug erwischen,' he said apologetically with a visible pout on the face.
'Wie schade,' she answered with a polite smile and a perfectly measured disappointed look. She let her hands slide off his coat.
The man cleared his throat and put his hand in the pocket of his face. He took a card out and handed it to her with a smirk.
'Hier ist meine persönliche Nummer ist vertraulich,' he spoke confidently. 'Ich würde in München Sindh freuen uns darauf, von Ihnen zu hören, im Idealfall.'
'Klare Sache,' she said with a smile and took the card.
The man smiled and walked away reluctantly. She watched him step inside the train station and hastily make a stop at the bathroom before the train's departure.
Her grin disappeared as soon as he was out of sight and she went straight across the station to the platform. She went by the trashcan that was on her way, lifted her hand up and dropped the card she had just been given in it with an emotionless face. Men…
She finally slipped the ticket out of her sleeve and took a look at it and she walked towards the last carriages at the tail of the train which were reserved to the civilians and staff and would certainly be detached once in Germany before the train heads off to the headquarters. She swiftly walked past all the steely cars, knowing Arnim Zola and a bunch of Hydra soldiers and weapons were in them. The people around her all seemed completely oblivious of the moving weapon the train they were getting onto was.
It was a matter of hours before Steve, Barnes and private Gabriel 'Gabe' Jones get on it, too. Literally on top of it.
She smiled to the conductor standing by the door on the platform and who was checking the passengers' tickets.
'Guten Morgen, Fraulein,' he spoke politely.
She smiled and handed in the ticket. He took it and his eyes went over it mechanically. She discreetly took a glance behind her. The man she had stolen the ticket from hadn't arrived yet.
'Waren Sie in der Schweiz für die Freizeit?' he asked.
'Ich kam, um einen alten Freund zu besuchen,' she answered with composure and confidence and a noticeable hint of coldness which was meant to be bound to their culture and her social status.
With her outfit, her perfect accent, her natural Aryan features and her collected demeanor, she looked more German than him.
'Kann ich Sie bitten, mir Ihre Handtasche bitte zu zeigen?, he asked, following the procedure.
She opened her purse and showed it to him just as he asked. He quickly threw a glance inside. No tools, no gadgets, nothing compromising. Just a mirror, a coinpurse, a lipstick and an innocent Swiss army knife that might just as well be a souvenir from her stay that she was now bringing home with her.
The conductor put a stamp on the ticket and gave it back to her.
'Genießen Sie Ihre Reise,' he said. She gave him a silent nod and got on the train.
She stepped inside the car and walked down the aisle. The carriage was fairly luxurious with brown leather seats and red velvet curtains hanging at every window. The passengers were all dressed as superbly as her and oozed wealthiness.
She went to the the nearest available seat near the door leading to the next carriage. She removed her hat and her coat and sat by the window.
She felt the engine start. A familiar-looking man running past her window caught her attention. He presented himself to the conductor and reached for the inside pocket of his blazer. A look of consternation and panic spread across his face. She leaned herself against the back of her seat and slightly pulled the curtain to hide her face behind.
Her suitor from five minutes ago went on to pat every part of his body frantically. He spoke with ardor while pointing to the train whereas the conductor held his arm up to block the access to the train. She read on his lips he was telling the employee to let him on the train as he was a passenger.
'I don't know where it is!' he answered vehemently in German to what was certainly the conductor's question. 'I must have left it in the car or on my way to the station! I remember putting it in my pocket!"
The conductor shook his head and politely waved for him to leave the platform. The man exhaled forcefully and flapped his leather briefcase against his leg.
The train shifted slightly then progressively moved along as it gained power from the engine. The man stared in disarray, seeming to think of an alternative way to get home.
The first part of her mission was a success. She smirked and closed the curtain completely.
Hours went by as she watched the different white landscapes of Switzerland pass before her window. Staff came to serve lunch to each passenger like they were royalty. Natasha barely ate. Just a few nibbles here and there so she would't have a heavy stomach but still enough to sustain herself for the physical performance her body would have to achieve soon.
The train crossed the German border and was only forty minutes away from where the civilian line would officially terminate.
After coffee, the staff disappeared to their carriage when the train slowed down to enter the station, indicating it was now her cue. She calmly rose to her feet, put her coat and hat over her arm and walked down the opposite way to the bathroom she had checked three hours before when she was weighing her options.
She didn't lock the door behind her and therefore hastened to slide the upper part of the window down. It was a narrow space but nothing her supple body wouldn't do. She climbed onto the toilet and slipped herself out of the carriage through the window. She was immediately slapped in the face by the cold wind. She could feel it was the cold coming from the Alps.
Now hanging on the outside face of the train, she quickly leaned down back inside the window to catch her coat and hat and flung them onto the roof of the train before proceeding to slide the window back up to close it. As soon as she finished, she hauled herself onto the roof. She looked behind her: the train station was less than two miles away.
She picked up the expensive fur coat and hat and threw them as far away from the tracks as possible. They landed off the railroads behind a bush. Everything had to look like she gotten off the train right after coming out of the bathroom as witnesses had seen her go in.
She ran along the roof and jumped up to the next carriage, swiflty, quietly, like a cat falling onto its paws. She was now on the compartment that was transporting the staff and the service equipment. She kept moving and jumped onto the next one which, she knew because of the plans she had memorized in the Avengers tower the morning before time traveling, was part of the HYDRA convoy. As it only contained food supplies and other basic materials, she knew there wouldn't be any security camera. Only a guard or two, at most. And a door with quite a regular lock.
She slipped herself down between the two carriages, opened her purse, pulled the Swiss knife out and tossed the purse away into a bush.
She cautiously knelt down in front of the steely door and lifted her hand up to her head. She pulled a long and solid metallic stick out of her hair, the lock pick she never would be allowed on the train with but that was just as similar –and practical- as a hairpin. She inserted it into the lock and used one tool of her Swiss army knife to help torque the cylinder. She worked with calm and meticulousness. It certainly wasn't the first lock she had to pick! She excelled at it.
She felt the cylinder turn until a hardly audible click alerted her it was unlocked. She slipped the hairpin back into her bun and slowly stood back up. She took a glimpse inside the carriage through the little window. A guard had just stepped out of his spot and had his back on the door. She now had to create the effect of surprise on the two soldiers.
She swung the door open and jumped in. The train was now entering the station. Her eyes swept across the carriage and analyzed the configuration in an instant. OK, well that would actually be three soldiers. She ran to the guard who hadn't had the time to flip around yet and leaped onto him. Her thighs wrapped themselves around his neck and squeezed his throat prisonner as she planted the little sharp blade of her Swiss Army knife right into the heart of the second guard who was comig at her; a ridiculously small blade but which, in her hands of assassin punctured his ventricular septum and killed him instantly. She felt the first soldier suffocate under her as she swiftly reached for the gun hanging at his belt and shot down the third soldier who had just hold his rifle up at her. As soon as he fell to the ground, she jerked her hips hardly and snapped the first guard's neck. He collapsed on the floor and she let herself fall down with him before landing on her feet. She was the only person left standing in the carriage, her three opponents dead. The train was now still.
She searched the guards until she found the badge that would open all the doors to the next compartments.
All she had to do now was wait until the last two carriages would be detached and the train depart again. She sat on a crate but kept her guard up.
Less than ten minutes later, the Schnellzug EB912 was on the move. Her plan to let the staff assume she had gotten off like the rest of the passengers had worked. She looked at her watch. It would take three more hours for the train to drive along the Alps and reach the headquarters, not that she cared much since History said it never would make it there anyway. The crucial piece of information here was that in one hour and forty-seven minutes, Steve, Barnes and Jones would be on top of the train; and that in one hour and fifty-eight minutes, Barnes would be falling off of it.
As the time on her clock approached, Natasha found herself getting more and more nervous. An usual feeling, in fact, but that was entirely based on the fear of the outcome and the consequences it would have on people she cared about. The obligation to remain hidden and work in the shadows added an extra thrill and made her heart race.
She soothed it down by the moment her watch struck the time for her to get in action. In twelve minutes, Steve and Barnes would arrive, in eleven, Steve would lose his best friend. That gave her approximately the same amount of time to move to the head of the train. It had to be a last minute attack to maintain the level of security as low as low as possible and as similar as the one Steve should normally find. Her mission couldn't disrupt his mission to put it simply.
She unlocked the first door and dove in the freight car, shooting the camera in the process, then rolled forwards on her back and shot the soldiers present. When silence fell, she flung herself upwards to rise to her feet.
She heard a muffled sound resonate on the steel above her. She glanced up. Steve was here.
She dropped her empty gun and took another gun and a knife from one of the dead soldiers then used the pass to access the next compartment. The door remained locked. She looked at her watch. Time was ticking. She would have to get to the other car from the outside.
She used the side door and climbed the latter on the outside of the train. The roof was empty meaning that Steve and his men were already in the carriage. The train was moving at a way higher speed than when she climbed on it before. Her balance wasn't as steady and the ruthless cold felt like knife stabs all over her body. She bent slightly over to even out her weight and make it easier for her to move then ran along the carriage to get to the other end.
She climbed down the latter and opened the side door.
By the next carriage, the alarm had gone off indicating Steve and the Howling Commando's presence was known. She found the soldiers in the freight car on their guards and ready to pull the trigger. She thrust the knife at the soldier who was the farthest from her and killed him instantly, she then used one as a human shield to avoid bullets and fell to the ground to shoot the ankle of her shooter. He wailed in pain and barely had time to look up that Natasha had already come to him and snapped his neck.
She looked at the watch. Four minutes left. She moved stealthily towards the door and glanced through the window. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Steve and Barnes standing side by side, turned in the opposite direction. She exhaled silently and waited for the perfect moment.
She watched as Steve stepped inside the car farther up while Barnes took a look at the equipment stocked in black rectangle cases.
She pressed the button to open her door knowing it would draw his attention. And it did. Barnes cautiously made his way towards her compartment, his rifle's hand pressed against his shoulder. Just as she knew it would happen, the door leading to the carriage where Steve was closed suddenly.
Barnes' attention flickered as he flipped his head instinctively to look behind him and check his best friend was safe. This was when she attacked. She barged in the carriage and hit the back of his neck with her elbow, a specific spot which would make him have a nap for the next ten minutes. He groaned and fell to the floor, unconscious.
'Sweet dreams, James,' she breathed out quietly and stepped over him.
Now it was all about being swift and efficient. She aimed her gun at the door that kept Steve away and shot the little window, making the glass crack into small pieces, and therefore block Steve's view. Steve came running back to the door, this was when she took her second shot to destroy the electric system and keep him from coming in. She then shot the surveillance camera fixed at the corner above the shelf behind which she was hiding.
Steve banged frantically on the door.
'Bucky! Bukcy!' he shouted from the other side while she stepped in the middle of the compartment knowing nobody could see her now. It was also a matter of minutes before Steve would find a way to open the door and get to his best friend, but he would soon be busy when an enemy would come to him from the other carriage ahead of him. That was what the report said, the soldier who was responsible for James' death was seconds away from stepping in. She didn't particularly enjoy the idea of Steve dealing with him alone, locked in the compartment with him because of her, but she knew he could take it.
Steve was still banging at the door, desperately trying to catch a glimpse in the compartment where she was with James, and his frustration not to see anything through the cracks was showing.
'Bucky! Bucky, answer me!' he yelled.
She glanced to the right. Barnes was having a peaceful slumber and wouldn't keep any bruise or other marks, just maybe a little headache, she couldn't tell for sure though.
Steps coming from the compartment she had originally arrived from made her furrow her brows. She leaned in to take a look and saw a Robocop look-alike approach. Robocop was certainly anachronic here, but judging by the iron armor he was wearing, the comparison fitted perfectly. It also hit her that it was the soldier who was said to cause James' death and who was now supposed to be in the other compartment with Steve. She took a deep breath. She assumed her presence on the train had altered the storyline as Zola had apparently decided to send his best weapon at the unknown intruder (since all the cameras had been destroyed) who was coming from the tail of the train rather than keep it at the head near him.
It meant she would have to deal with it. It comforted her to know Steve would remain safe and sound all alone in his compartment.
She bounced at him like a black panther to make him lose his balance. He deflected her attack by hitting her in the face. She fell to the ground and got back on her feet right away.
'Du hast keine Idee davon, was auf dich wartet, frau,' he spat.
'Zeig mir, was du drauf hast,' she answered hardly with a bold and clearly unafraid look.
He came at her with a determined look and she did the same running straight at him. She then leaped onto the crate on the right to gain momentum then she jumped higher, clinging herself to him, her legs wrapping themselves around his neck while she strongly held his chin up, bending his head backwards against her abdomen. He groaned in rage, flipping right and left to make her fall but her legs had a strong grip around his upper body.
'Bucky!' Steve shouted louder from behind the door, alerted by the sudden clatter coming from the freight car, now banging the door with his shoulder. 'Bucky, let me in!'
Natasha was still on the soldier's shoulders, trying to get a firm grip of his neck to snap it. The soldier saw it coming and lifted his arms, reaching up for her. He grabbed each side of her waist and violently flung her out of his shoulders onto the ground. She fell hardly on the floor and he immediately came at her again, picking her up and running to the wall, tackling her against the steel. A rush of acute pain struck her like lightning and spread along her backbone, making her gasp in pain.
She tried to clasp his waist with her legs but he spun around and threw on the ground again. Her muscles were radiating pain like they were in fire, her heart pounding, her breathing jerky, tasting blood in her mouth.
'Who's there?!' Steve shouted from behind the door, seeming to catch a glimpse of two silhouettes he couldn't identify through the broken glass.
The soldier remained focus on her and aimed his weapon at her. A shot she knew would kill her instantly.
He pressed the trigger and she jumped out of the way, the blue laser blowing a hole into the side of the train, the freezing wind coming in the carriage while the train was now driving over the cliff James was supposed to fall into. Her first instinct was to glance behind her and found he was still knocked out.
The sound of screeching metal coming from the other compartment warned her that Steve had found a way to break down the door and that it was pretty effective.
The soldier grabbed her throat tightly and held her up in the air. She flapped her legs and tried to release herself from his strong and painful grip, panting. She put her had behind her hair and slipped the hairpin. She held firmly in her first and stabbed him in the eye with it.
The man screamed in a mix of agony and rage and let go of her. Steve went quiet on the other side of the door, startled and distressed not to know if he had just heard his best friend's cry of pain.
She took advantage of her opponent losing focus and bounced at him, legs forward and as flat and strong as board and kicked him on the chest. His heavy armor made him lose his balance and he fell backwards in a clatter. Her attack had to be immediate as it would take him precious seconds to get back on his feet. She rolled on her stomach and tried to reach for the gun which had slipped under the shelf.
She felt a grip around her ankle and was violently pulled backwards towards him. She rolled on her back again and hit him repeatedly in the face with her heel. He screamed in pain when she touched his bleeding eye and aimed his gun at her again. She rolled away and the laser blew off the shelf, making all the cases and boxes fall loudly on the ground.
The soldier used them to help himself rise to his feet. When he finally looked up, a noise resonated and he stared in shock, a brief and squealing gasp slipping out of his mouth, as the bullet shot from her gun hit him right above the heart and pierced through his tissues.
He staggered but still gathered the strength to raise his arm to shoot at her. She charged in his direction, put all her balance on her left foot and swung her other leg in the air. Her foot struck him right in the chest, throwing him out of the train. She stood by the edge and exhaled deeply as she watched him fall down the cliff the way his victim, James, was supposed to.
A loud bang coming from the other carriage caught her attention. She turned, alert, and saw the metal door was on the verge to give way.
'Bucky!' Steve's repeated screams were distressed and desperate.
It was time to vanish.
She took a few steps back, glanced right and left then she raced towards the hole her opponent had just fallen from. Close to reach the edge, she hopped, her hands clinging to the metal bar hanging above, and swung herself skywards, did a back flip and finally landed on the roof of the train.
She heard the door burst open and Steve barge in.
'Bucky!' he exclaimed in horror, as she heard rushed steps towards the other end of the carriage. 'Bucky, are you alright?' he asked with a mix of concern and relief.
Out of her sore muscles, her aching bruises and the blood she could feel running down her temple, a smile rose to her lips as she let herself be filled with joy and relief beyond measure. Not only for saving James today but for the way it would influence the whole future. She also felt privileged to witness (sort of) the two best friends' reunion after such a tense moment.
'Y-yeah,' James mumbled, a bit stunned.
'What happened?' Steve asked.
'Somebody…knocked me out. I think,' he answered.
A silence followed. 'Who were you fighting?' Steve asked, sounding quite confused.
She didn't have time to listen to more. Time was against her. She ran out, jumping from one carriage to another, towards the tail. As soon as the train was out of the bridge, she jumped off , rolled onto the ground, the powdery snow cushioning her fall – although she wasn't worried to add one more bruise to the list of her physical injuries for the day. She then headed west for a one-hour-and-forty-minute-long walk that would take her to the nearest tavern according to the maps she had studied during her stay in New York.
Now that her mission had been accomplished, it was time to go home.