Natasha and Steve soon arrived at the abandoned training camp. Steve looked at the place, at every corner, and realized how it had become just a shell, void of all content. And yet he remembered all those mornings feeling every muscle in his body burn in agony, his arms screaming in silence as he was clutching clutching his rifle and the rest of the equipment tight against his thin chest, but still running far behind his fellow comrades.
They walked inside exploring the empty premises whose faded grey on the walls was the last remaining evidence that they used to be occupied.
Some frames hanging to the wall immediately caught his attention and he stepped closer gazing at the photographs of Peggy and Howard, an old friend he had been missing he realized and Peggy who looked as young, strong and beautiful as he remembered she was not so long ago from his time perspective.
"Who's the girl?" Natasha asked, breaking the silence.
He chose to leave it unanswered and walked away, physically trying to move on from that overwhelming waft from the past that was trying to cling to him.
They found a hidden elevator that took them all the way down to a backdated intel room. Somehow there was a modern flash drive device put on the main desk. Natasha plugged Fury's flash drive in, starting the whole system. A familiar voice started to speak in the largest computer screen standing in front of them.
It turned out to be Zola, an old foe, HYDRA's scientist and the man who had experimented on Bucky in a way that he had survived over 70 years in the ice along with him. His mind had somehow been transferred into this machine.
"For nearly 70 years, HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war, and when history did not cooperate, history was changed," Zola boasted.
"With the Reidlos," Steve eventually said after Zola finished to explain how HYDRA had been surviving S.H.I.E.L.D. all along. "Your soldier, spelled backwards."
"He's been given this name specifically because he isn't one. He is an anti-soldier, a ruthless killer with no morals and no military conditioning. One of your missions back in 1942 counteracted my initial plans. So I had to find a new specimen for my experiments and we got our hands on a criminal. He first lacked the discipline but his total absence of moral sense and his inner brutality made it easier to have him rally behind our cause."
Natasha and Steve glanced at each other; it explained quite a few things, including how she had gotten out alive from his ambush.
"Speaking of, where is Sergeant Barnes?" Zola continued. Steve's posture changed and his hand squeezed into a fist as he heard his friend's name. "Seeing you here Captain has made a little nostalgic. The scientist in me would like to take a look at what could have been my most beautiful creation."
He furrowed his brows, not quite understanding what Arnim Zola meant with 'his most beautiful creation'. What kind of creation was Bucky meant to become?
"Steve, we got a bogey," Natasha said before he could ask anything. "Short range ballistic. 30 seconds tops."
"Who fired it?" he asked although he already suspected what the answer would be.
Natasha took her eyes off her phone and looked slightly shocked. "S.H.I.E.L.D." she said numbly, confirming Zola's words had been true.
"I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain," Arnim's robotic voice spoke. "It's better this way. We are, both of us, out of time."
Rage took the best of him and he punched the screen hard, leaving a big mark of the impact right where the image of Zola's face was just a second before.
Steve and Natasha were both trapped with no chance of escaping in time. He went for the hatch in the middle of the room and opened it. He then quickly helped Natasha down and jumped in right behind just when the bogey hit the premises. The ground quaked, their skin instantly turned hot and sweaty from the fire burning everywhere above them and debris fell upon them. Standing in this confined space, he held a protective arm around her as she squeezed herself against him clutching his body tight while he kept his shield up high to shelter them both from the falling pieces.
Eventually the heat and exhaustion got the best of Natasha and she fell unconscious as he felt her light breathing in his neck.
When the deflagration and its aftermath finally came to an end and was followed by a heavy silence he used all of his strength to push all the debris upwards and out of his way. He then gently held Natasha's body into his arms and carried her out of the building.
He reached the car they had borrowed and found it had been untouched by the explosion. He made sure to lay her carefully into the seat and anxiously looked at her. Listening to nothing other than the urge to check she was alright, he reached for her face and brushed her hair away. His fingers softly stroked her pale skin down to her chin. When he felt her shift a little, his body slightly bent over and he let out a sigh of relief while the fast racing of his heartbeat slowly went back to a milder pacing.
As he drove back to D.C., she eventually awoke some time later.
Steve stopped at a telephone booth in a quiet street and dialled a number.
"Hello," he heard a voice say cautiously.
"Bucky," he started.
He heard his friend breathe out loudly on the other end of the line.
"Oh my God Steve, are you alright?" James asked as he seemed to be walking to another place and speak in a lower voice. "I've been worrying sick. You know you're S.H.I.E.L.D'S most wanted man, right now?"
"Yeah, I might have forgotten to hand in a report on time," Steve said humourlessly.
Bucky wasn't in a joking mood either.
"What the hell happened? I tell you to be careful while I'm away and you make yourself America's public enemy!"
"Are you safe?" Steve asked as a matter of priority. Zola's words echoed in his head.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. They've called me and asked if I had been in contact with you and I said no. But I don't think me they believed me anyway," he said. "But what's happening?"
"It's bad, Buck. S.H.I.E.L.D. is compromised and HYDRA is responsible for it. We didn't get rid of them. We never did."
James remained quiet for a few seconds. "Are you safe?"
Steve bit his lip. He had to make the situation look less desperate and dangerous than it was in reality. "Yeah. Nat took us to one of her hideouts. We're okay. I'm calling you to warn you not to trust the authorities."
"Of course," Bucky said. "I'm leaving right away for the airport to keep everyone here safe."
That was the part he dreaded would happen.
"No," Steve cut in firmly, clutching the speaker and turning his back to the passers-by to keep their conversation even quieter. "I need to know you are safe. Stay in Europe. You're safe there and out of HYDRA's reach."
"Bu –," his friend started.
"Bucky," he spoke sternly. "Please. For once in your life, do as I say."
It wasn't like he could make him swear on his mother –he now knew for a fact it had as much value as if he had sworn on his last glass of milk.
Bucky sighed. Eventually he spoke again.
"Is Maria okay? I haven't heard back from her since they said Fury was dead. Have you gone to her?"
Steve winced lightly. He didn't know how to approach this topic. Maria was S.H.I.E.L.D. so by definition there was a probability she was HYDRA.
Bucky was silent, waiting for an answer.
"We- we don't know who to trust."
It had been more difficult to let the words come out than he had thought.
"You can trust her," Bucky said assuredly. "Steve. You can trust her like it was me."
When Steve hung up the phone he deeply wished he could but he knew he could possibly not trust any S.H.I.E.L.D. agent (or anyone for that matter) like he trusted Bucky.
Steve and Natasha eventually abandoned the car (in quite a decent state, dust from the deflagration put aside) and walked to the only person he could think of in Washington who wasn't likely to be a HYDRA mole. They wound up knocking on Sam Wilson's front house door in the early morning.
"Hey man," poor Sam said cheerfully. He then frowned in surprise assessing the poor condition they were presenting themselves in.
"I'm sorry about this," Steve said. "We need a place to lay low."
"Everyone we know is trying to kill us," Natasha spoke, trying to keep the conversation as brief as possible to make it inside the house as soon as possible.
Sam glanced behind them. "Not everyone," he uttered gravely and let them in.
Sam was kind enough to offer them to use the bathroom but most importantly he gave them privacy in his bedroom to gather their thoughts. Steve went to the bathroom after Natasha for a wash-up but as he glanced in her direction, he noticed the melancholic look on her face. One look that Natasha wasn't the kind to have in normal days.
"You okay?" he asked as he sat down on the chair opposite the bed. Natasha was absent-mindedly drying her hair with the towel.
"Yeah," she answered. It was the least credible lie she had ever given.
"What's going on?" he asked with a softer voice, leaning forward toward her.
"When I first joined S.H.I.E.L.D. I thought I was going straight. But I guess I just traded in the KGB for HYDRA. I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but I guess I can't tell the difference anymore."
He finally understood why Natasha was 'comfortable doing anything' as Fury had called it. She was comfortable doing anything for him because she had deliberately made the choice to be loyal to Nick Fury no matter the cost. That didn't make her an amoral or unprincipled and unscrupulous agent as he first feared, it made her a loyal and reliable friend. You just had to earn to be considered worthy of her devotion.
"There's a chance you might be in the wrong business," he teased instead of getting into a more profound conversation he had a feeling she didn't want to have.
Natasha smirked weakly and looked him deep in the eye, seeming to appreciate how he had dodged the uncomfortable talk.
"I owe you," she began.
He shook his head. This was the last kind of relationship he wanted to have with her.
"You don't and never will. You're my friend."
She stared numbly at him.
"If it was the other way around and it was down to me to save your life, now you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it, no matter what?"
He understood 'no matter what' meant regardless of any secret mission or personal interest she might have.
He nodded. "I would." He smiled. "And I'm always honest."
Natasha shifted slightly farther out of the edge of the bed to get closer.
"I once told you that you were right not to trust me fully. And I regret it," she began, glancing down at the carpet then right back at him. "I hope someday I will earn your full trust."
He stared back into her eyes.
"You already have. Probably for a longer time than I had realized."
"Why is that?" she asked.
He sighed internally at the evidence of the answer.
"Because it's you," he said simply. Matter-of-factly. And these three words could go a long way to justify almost any of his actions related to her.
Natasha's smile looked different than any other. It wasn't a smirk or a sarcastic grin; it was a slightly bashful smile.
"And who am I, Steve?" she demanded. "To you. I did mean it when I asked you who you wanted me to be."
"Steve," she said as she shifted so close there was no room left between him and the backrest. "I did mean it when I asked you who you wanted me to be."
Her large green eyes seemed to shine brighter than normal, or than he had ever noticed before at least.
He shook his head. "Would it change anything?"
"It could," she answered equivocally. She glanced up at him again and smirked.
"There is one thing though," she began more gravely. "I don't want to live in the shadow of a ghost forever."
He found this conversation to be more unsettling than this whole S.H.I.E.L.D. situation. He could fight off all of HYDRA at once without blinking but he was now totally and irremediably overpowered by Natasha's gaze.
She smiled encouragingly, perhaps to him, to herself or to them both. "Could you assure me that Natalie –her memory and our likeness – aren't part of the equation in our relationship?"
He gazed into her eyes and as much as he wanted to answer yes, he felt pulled back by his feelings for Natalie. Would he ever stop loving Natalie? Could he tell without the shadow of a doubt that what he felt for Natasha was related to her only and not to her resemblance to Natalie? He couldn't clearly answer these two questions and this was the whole problem.
"I...don't know," he whispered.
Natasha's smile faded slightly then she briefly pursed her lips together.
"That's what I thought," she murmured with a strange combination of disappointment and complete serenity and acceptance. She shifted back to her initial place leaving a heavy emptiness between them. Part of him wanted to ask her to move close again just as she was a few seconds before and how good it felt but he also knew he wouldn't do right neither by her nor Natalie.
She smiled at him dearly. "Then friends is as great as we can get."
He mumbled then leaned forward to reduce the unbearable large space she had made between them.
"You're not…," he shook his head, silently reprobating his own choice of words earlier in the car. He looked her straight in the eye. "You aren't just a friend. You do have a special place –such a special place in truth –, but…"
Maybe it was the fear of diving again into intense feelings and taking the risk of getting hurt all over again, maybe it was the apprehension of being unable to keep up because of his own past romantic life; either way, Steve was convinced he couldn't fully give her what she had every right to get.
They were two people who deeply believed they didn't deserve each other.
"…it wouldn't work," Natasha finished, nodding as if she seemed to have been telling herself the same thing for a little while. She shook her head and laughed it off. "It's better this way."
So close and yet so far. They seemed to be destined to be each other's almost something. And 'almost' was never bound to become real. Almost was something you could admire from a distance, yearn to achieve someday but that slipped out of your reach at the very last moment to forever become a regret. And probably they would never stop regretting each other, from time to time sighing in the dark as they would muse 'what if?'
Sam walked into the room, both depriving them of and sparing them an extended time of silent intimacy before this conversation would remain behind them for good.
Steve was on the roof, cordially trying to worm information about Zola's algorithm out of Sitwell while Natasha was standing behind, bored.
"Is this little display meant to insinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof?" Sitwell said in the most unafraid way while Steve was holding him near to the edge. "Because it's really not your style, Rogers."
Steve grinned. He let go of Sitwell.
"You're right. It's not," he conceded, straightening Sitwell's suit where his hands were clutching the fabric a moment before. "It's hers."
He stepped sideways and let free path for Natasha who didn't have to be asked twice. She raised her leg high and kicked Sitwell on the chest right off the roof. His screaming echoed in the air as he was falling down.
"No offense," Steve said sarcastically.
Natasha smirked. "None taken. I like it when you let me embrace my naughty side."
"I'd lie if I said I don't find it enjoyable to watch," he smirked back.
Jasper Sitwell appeared again, loosely carried by Falcon like he was infectious waste. He then dropped him off on the roof before landing smoothly. This was enough emotions at once to make Sitwell spill the beans.
The attack on the freeway was as violent as it was unexpected when Reidlos started shooting at Natasha from the roof of the car. She dove to the front of the car onto Steve's lap and swiftly saved him and Sam from flashing bullets.
As Reidlos shot one of the tires, Sam lost control of the vehicle. Steve took them all out, using his shield as support, just when the car began to flip upside down.
Steve and Natasha were still cradled together on the shield when they looked up and saw the assassin standing down the road, reaching for a rocket launcher. They rose to their feet and as it seemed that Reidlos was aiming specifically at Steve, he pushed Natasha away, urging her to flee. She ran off and Steve squatted down behind his shield just before the rocket hit him and thrust him off the bridge into a bus driving by below.
After taking down the HYDRA agents, he proceeded to chase down Reidlos, following the civilians' screams of terror. When he eventually caught sight of him amidst this scene of chaos, Reidlos was standing on a car about to shoot someone. Steve glanced down and recognized Natasha's figure who was panting , clutching her shoulder and looking helpless. His heart pounded hard in his chest and he raced across the road as fast as his feet could possibly take him.
He leaped on the assassin and both landed on the ground, then a ruthless fight ensued. Reidlos was strong and there was something barbarous in the way he hit, so much that it became a brawl. He lacked discipline in an unsettling way that it made it a little difficult to anticipate his next hit or move. After being knocked to the ground, the assassin stood to his feet and ripped his black mask out of his face with rage. His face carried the scars from a past life. He then furiously spat some blood out and wiped off is mouth wiwth the back of his hand.
A rocket suddenly flew his way and he escaped before it would hit him.
When Steve looked behind, he saw Natasha was the one who had fired it, her quivering body feebly leaning against the car to keep herself standing.
He started toward her but Rumlow and another agent took hold of him and brought him to his knees, arresting him, Natasha and Sam before the eyes of journalists flying above their heads in a helicopter.
They were officially caught in HYDRA's claws.
Seated and handcuffed in the SHIELD/HYDRA vehicle that was probably taking them back to the headquarters, Steve had his gaze locked on Natasha who was acrosss from him on the iron bench beside Sam. Having a hard time to keep her eyes open, she was weakly swaying with the van's motions and looking numbly at a blank spot in front of her. He cringed as his eyes roamed down to her shoulder where her blood was oozing from a wound in her skin.
Sam was staring at her too with a concerned look.
"We need to get a doctor here," he shouted at the two masked HYDRA agents. "If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck."
One of the two agent pulled out a baton in response and switched it on, electricity flashing through it as they held it up menacingly. Wilson went mute. Unexpectedly, the agent struck their peer sitting right beside with it and knocked him out unconscious. Sam, Steve and Natasha stared at each other then back at the mysterious agent, who took their mask off, revealing Maria's face. She brushed her hair out of her face and sighed nonchalantly.
"That thing was squeezing my brain," she said coolly, then stared at Sam. "Who is this guy?"
Steve gave a faint smile, relieved and glad to find that Bucky's girlfriend was on their side as he had affirmed she would.
Natasha's wound had been stitched up and Director Fury, who had turned out to be alive, had had no other choice but to go with Steve's plan to take everything down, S.H.I.E.L.D. included.
As the last preparations were being made, Maria came up to Steve as he was seated alone in a quiet room.
"Thank you," he began. "For earlier."
"Of course," Maria nodded with a friendly smile.
"I'm glad you're one of the good guys," he continued then paused. Silence hung above them again. He rubbed his chin and looked back at her. "Bucky has been worrying about you."
Maria's dropped her special agent persona and her expression softened. "You spoke to him? How is he?" she hastily asked as she sat across from him.
He nodded. "He's good where he is."
They shared an approving smile. "Actually, he wanted me to come to you…to seek help. He trusts you implicitly."
He internally blamed himself for not having given her that same kind of trust. Maria grinned softly, not only pleased to hear she had her boyfriend's complete faith but also grateful that Steve had made it a point of sharing this with her.
"Steve," she spoke. He appreciated her calling him by his name. "That operation, and actually everything HYDRA related, I don't want him to be involved in any of it."
He looked at her gently as he realized that Bucky had now a second person in his life who cared about him as much as he did.
"I made it clear I wanted him to stay in Europe until the whole thing has been sorted."
Whether James would listen was a completely different matter. Maria nodded with a lack of enthusiam, aware this would never be enough to keep James away from all this.
She pressed her palm on the table.
"I made a call and asked a detective friend of mine to take him to the station for some made-up minor infraction. Should buy us some time."
It made them both grin mischievously.
After 'borrowing' his old uniform from the Smithsonian Museum and suiting up, Steve felt like it was 1942 again. The costume fitted him just like seventy years ago when he had put it on for the first time. He recalled how proud Peggy had looked when he had stepped into the room. This time, when he stepped out, Natasha was standing with a faint smirk on, arms folded over her chest.
"After second thought the 40's did have some ups," she commented.
"Sure did," Sam chimed in standing right beside her.
Steve remained quiet, frozen to the core. Natasha was wearing a classic royal blue skirt suit with a blond wig, as according to the plan. But there was something about seeing her with this shade of blond that propel him all the way back to 1942, with Natalie. Natasha, although she was undoubtedly stunning, had at this very moment a timeless beauty –and for the first time, he realized how she could have naturally fitted in his decade.
"You look…," he trailed off, looking down at her intensely on the verge of expressing his thought aloud. He cleared his throat. "You look ready."
He scratched his temple nervously.
Natasha nodded. "Nearly am. Just waiting for the Photostatic Veil to be calibrated."
Their individual missions were going to set them apart for the first time since that whole thing had started. It felt weird. They had been through so much together those past few days that he couldn't really imagine not finishing it with her by his side.
"Steve," she called as he was walking away. He turned and found her looking at him closely. "Be careful," she said.
He looked at her softly. Who knew how the mission would end. "You too," he said barely audibly then walked out of the room.
Thanks to Maria's perfect knowledge of the headquarters, they sneaked in without being seen all the way to the monitor room. Maria sat down and switched on all the speakers for Steve's speech. He propped his hands on the desk and leaned in.
"Attention all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, this is Steve Rogers. You've heard a lot about me over the last few days. Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it's time you know the truth. S.H.I.E.L.D. is not what we thought it was. It's been taken over by HYDRA. Alexander Pierce is their leader. The S.T.R.I.K.E. and Insight crew are HYDRA as well. I don't know how many more, but I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want. Absolute control. They shot Nick Fury. And it won't end there. If you launch those helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way unless we stop them. "
He paused. At this very unexpected and tense moment, his mind roamed back to an old memory from 1942. He recalled something that Natalie had told him before leaving forever that he hadn't really understood back then but that made a whole lot of sense in this very situation. It seemed that, for an unknown reason, she had chosen to sacrifice their relationship for something greater than them both.
"I know I'm asking a lot. But the price of freedom is high," he quoted the exact words her voice was vividly dictating in his head. "It always has been. And it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not."
Maria turned off the microphone and it took him a second to leave the wistful state of mind he was in. Sam stepped in and pulled him out of it without realizing.
"Did you write that down first, or was it off the top of your head?" he teased.
After the two men headed out the helicarriers, Maria remained in the monitor room to supervise the whole operation. As she kept an eye on all the camera surveillance, her phone laying on the desk beeped. She would have ignored the text and its content if it weren't for the contact name showing in glowing letters. She quickly slid her thumb across the screen and read the text intently while a frown appeared on her forehead.
"Damn it," she muttered to herself.
Two helicarriers were down and there was only one to go with a ticking clock. Steve made his way up to engine room but came face to face with Reidlos.
"Stand down," Steve tried with a hard voice. "It's over."
The assassin stared right at him with an impassive, inhuman expression. He charged at him ferociously and tackled him to the ground. They brawled relentlessly until Steve eventually got the upper hand and strangled his opponent until he fell to the ground, seemingly dead. Steve then raced to the engine and swapped the served blades just before the end of the countdown. He sighed in relief and the sound of a fire shot rang out. His body jerked in pain as he felt the bullet pierce through the skin of his thigh. When he turned, he found Reidlos standing at the bottom, a gun pointed at him.
He pulled the trigger again and Steve dove sideways; the bullet made a clinking sound as it hit a steel girder. Steve limpingly raced at him, ignoring the racking pain radiating in his leg, and pinned his opponent down to the ground. The assassin riposted with a headbutt to the face before kicking him away. He then jumped on top of him and punched him repeatedly. Steve caught sight of a gun a few feet away. He blocked his foe's next punch and hit him in the throat. As Reidlos chocked, Steve got away from his grip and crawled toward the gun. Just when the tips of his fingers grasped the grip, Reidlos leaped on him and squeezed the wound of his leg, viciously sinking his fingers in as Steve grunted in pain. He held on to the firearm nonetheless and aimed it at the assassin's face but got his arm brutally tackled back to the ground just when he shot the fire and the bullet dug itself into the glass below them, splitting out into large cracks. Reidlos grabbed his collar and lifted him up before smashing him down against the glass again and again until Steve's gaze blurred and he began to lose full awareness of his surroundings. His skull repeatedly hit the glass until the pain turned mute, becoming numb instead. His eyelids started to feel heavy and his body to cave in under his ruthless assailant.
The cracks beneath them kept spreading with the hits and eventually it crumbled completely. Steve felt himself sucked down by gravity and fell off the helicarrier shortly followed by Reidlos.
His dull body eventually plunged into water and he sunk down. When the pressure of the water began to feel heavy on his chest, his survival instinct took over and his brain sent an electric signal that made his whole body spasm in response. His eyelids opened wide and he found himself drowning. He flapped his arms as strongly as he could to push himself upwards to the surface. He gasped when his face eventually got out of water and panted hard for air. His eyes frantically roamed his surroundings and he saw the shore some yards away.
He swam hardly toward it, pressing one palm against his wound to slow the bleeding. When his feet eventually touched the sand he fell to his knees and painfully made his way out of the water. But he was suddenly thrust backward and found himself face to face with his enemy. Reidlos hit and kicked tirelessly drawing energy from his bottomless rage.
He pressed his hands on each side of Steve's throat and squeezed.
"Extermination," he muttered under his breath, licking his teeth like a craving animal.
Steve took a fistful of sand and threw it at his face and although he did jerk in response his hands remained impertubably locked around his throat. Steve suffocated, trying to kick his legs clutched under Reidlos' body. He rose his hand to the assassin's chin and tried to push his face with the remaining of the strength he had left.
And it went off. The deafening sound of a fire shot echoing across the shore. Steve went still and Reidlos jerked up. Time seemed to freeze. He then looked down at Steve and his hard, murderous pupils, blurred into blankness. The grip around his neck went loose then his body slumped sideways. His face fell silently on the sand, his dead eyes staring into nothing.
Steve gasped and as he finally diverted his eyes off the lifeless body of Reidlos he looked up to see the face of his assailant's killer. His eyes stung but when his sight finally adjusted to the brightness, the silhouette standing above grew clear until it revealed the last person he expected to see.
He breathed hard and frowned, wondering if his eyes or his mind were deceiving him.
"B-Bucky?" he eventually gasped.
James lowered his gun and smiled reassuringly.
"Don't worry. You're safe now," he said calmly and knelt down beside him.
Maybe it was the relief or the pressure of the whole crisis situation being over dying out, but this was the moment when the little left of Steve's strength vanished and everything went black.
Steve woke up with the sound of music from the 1970's playing in the background. He opened his eyes and found himself in a different environment than the last one he had seen. A hospital, in all likelihood.
"On your left," he heard a familiar voice speak in a soft and smiling voice.
He turned and saw Sam seated on a chair by his bedside. The relief of seeing his new friend in good shape and the happiness of realizing he had remained on his side until he woke up mixed together.
"On your right," an even more familiar said from the opposite side.
He was smiling before his head even completed the 180° turn. Bucky was looking at him with a grin.
"You…didn't listen to me, again." Steve said.
Bucky shook his head. "Of course you would want to have this conversation right away."
"You didn't do as I said," he went on.
"When have I ever done as you say?" Bucky arched an eyebrow and smirked unapologetically.
"And I thought I told you to be careful," a feminine, husky voice said.
Natasha was standing a few feet behind Bucky. Her smile was earnest and benevolent.
"Don't mind him," Bucky commented nonchalantly after a couple of seconds. "That was just his chronic attention-seeking habit kicking back in. It always activates in times of great hazard."
"That explains a lot of things," Sam said musingly from across the bed.
Steve snorted quietly. He couldn't hope for a happier reunion.
The cemetery was as quiet as you would expect it to be. Steve, Sam and Bucky were standing a few feet behind Director Fury who was 'poetically' laying flowers on his counterfeit grave as he had considered that remaining dead to the public eye was his best way of staying alive.
"So, you've experienced this sort of thing before," he said to Steve and Bucky.
"You get used to it," Steve answered. Bucky nodded quietly.
He asked them if they would accompany him to Europe to track the rest of HYDRA.
Bucky and Steve glanced at each other. They had both agreed that they needed to take a step back from their past and focus on the present. For Bucky, most of the present meant Maria who had just joined Stark Industries in New York. For Steve, well, it wasn't clear yet. And part of him dreaded that Natasha would choose her loyalty to Nick Fury over anything else and go along with him. She hadn't shared what her intentions for the near future were.
"Maybe not for now," Steve said for the two of them. "But do call us if you need us."
Fury nodded quite understandingly much to their surprise.
"How about you, Wilson?" This was Fury's compliment in appreciation of the skills Sam had shown during the operation. If Fury wanted him by his side, it meant he was one of the best. "Could use a man with your abilities."
"I'm more of a soldier than a spy," Sam answered politely but still flattered.
"Anybody asks for me, tell them they can find me right here." Nick shook their hands and walked away.
"You should be honored," Steve recognized Natasha's voice behind him. It made him grin. "That's about as close as he gets to saying thank you."
Natasha and Steve walked up to each other, meeting halfway. She was wearing an elegant leather blazer and dark jeans with tall riding boots.
"Not going with him?" he immediately asked, his heart subtly pacing up at the apprehension of her answer.
"No," she answered simply. His grin slightly widened.
The smirk playing on her lips faded a little.
"But I'm not staying here, either."
Steve furrowed his brows. "I blew all my covers," she explained briefly. "I got to go figure out a new one."
His body stiffened underneath his thick layer jacket.
"But this might take a while," he said.
"I'm counting on it," she smiled cheerlessly. "I'm persona non grata at the moment."
He had heard about all her files being open to the public. A choice she had willingly made when she released all HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secrets onto the Internet. He hadn't been bothered nor even curious to look at them. Although he suspected how dark most of Natasha's secrets were he had no desire to know any of them. He didn't need to.
He took a step closer to her.
"You're not. You saved many innocent lives," he whispered as he looked right into her eyes. "Those files –and whatever they say about you –, I don't care. They don't mean anything now."
Natasha dove her eyes deep into his with a slightly stunned expression. The shadow of a wistful grin came to her lips.
"But I do care," she retorted softly and her pupils slightly quivered. "And so should you."
She gently put her hand on his forearm and walked past him. She smiled at Sam then walked over to James.
"See you around, Bucky."
He smiled sorrowfully in response. They both leaned in for a hug.
"Just don't take too long, okay?" he said quietly into her ear and she smiled.
"Of course. What would you become without me?" she teased.
When they pulled apart, she turned to Steve. Bucky discreetly motioned Sam to follow him as he stepped away.
It was only the two of them below the great tree.
"I know you don't approve of this…," she began.
"You're right –I don't," he cut her in.
"It's the best for everyone," she assured. "I need to keep a low profile for a little while and prevent you and the others to be tainted along because of my past."
It all sounded so clear and lucid in her mouth but he couldn't make sense of any of it anyhow. It was like his brain had completely shut down after hearing she was leaving. An unexpected panic took hold of it and the distressing feeling of being abandoned by the most important woman in his life again overpowered him. He found himself as clueless and desperate as he was the first time it happened over seventy years ago. Anyone would presume it was easier to handle the second time around but he found it to be just as harrowing as the first time, if not even more because of the memories it brought back.
"Don't –," he began weakly then stopped himself as he realized it wasn't his place to ask anything from her. It was her decision and there was nothing he could do about it. He felt powerless. Hepless. He looked at her with an exhausted expression and posture. "I need you."
Natasha rushed up to his side. "I know," she breathed out with a voice cracking near the end. She fixed him with an intense look. She held the side of his jacket and squeezed it. "I will come back, Steve. I promise."
This déjà vu was getting harder and harder to put up with.
"I'm asking you to trust me fully on this one. Okay?" She asked softly, her eyes brighter than a moment before.
He looked at her, pursing his lips together. Could he trust her to keep a promise Natalie had broken? Part of him badly wanted to believe it.
He nodded, resigned.
"Okay," he whispered under his breath, hoping that he wasn't putting his heart again into a promise that would never be fulfilled.
Natasha tried to smile but it came out like a wince, then she stood up on her toes and laid a kiss on his cheek that she let linger for an extra second. When she started to pull away, he looked at her and they were never so physically close to each other.
She took a step back, turned around and walked away without ever glancing behind her shoulder.
She didn't see the tear that rolled down his cheek as he watched her leave.
And it was probably better this way.