Chapter Text
He was always so protective over her. Everyone was oblivious to the fact, or so he thought. Her understanding of where this sudden burst in appreciation came from hadn’t even crossed his mind. She couldn’t do anything but notice . Whenever they were in the same room, his eyes were constantly on her-- no matter the occasion. He would find a way to be a gentleman to her; harmless glances, gentle touches, praising her abilities, but deep down, she knew (and sadly so did the others) he was infatuated with every aspect of her… it was only a matter of time before someone figured out how to deal with it.
It wasn’t until later she realized he was only doing it to get to know himself, and spend more time with her-- the sparring, the missions, the safe houses. She was his motivator, his goal-- the steps to become human again. The redhead was all of that and so much more to a man she knew nothing about, a person he knew nothing about. All that she needed to do was look at him, and really look at him. Notice him, his flaws, his scars, his fears. And love him; just as hard-- if not harder-- than he did her, in a place where love was intolerable.
They almost succeeded, but her gaze, lust, infatuation, admiration- you name it, all of the things that were said in secret would’ve never been enough. They were stopped before he met his goal, he had been so close to owning back a fraction of what was taken from him and now there was nothing. That damned chair forced him to have nothing to live for, only working for the missions that were imprinted into his brain. At least she got to succeed, she got out and lived a life. Which in the greater scheme of things, was exactly what he wanted: To be protective over something how he wishes he was protected. They just never let her get the chance to reciprocate.
“You know for a former assassin I feel like you should be able to hide better than this.” She said slimly as she leaned to rest on the door frame of the soldier’s apartment, arms crossed over her chest confidently. In her ear, Sam speaks, {they’ve set the perimeter.}
“I wasn't in Vienna, I don’t do that anymore.” spoken defensively like a scared man. { they’re entering the building } she was searching his body language hoping for something to prove the theory. Starting at the muscles what formed near the bottom of his neck for some sort of giveaway, a tell he used to say.
“Well there are people out there who think it was you, and we have to leave before they find us. They don't plan on taking you alive.” The worlds spilled out of her lips like a breath she had been holding since she got the information. While closing the front door with the heel of her boot she watched as his back shook with a deep chuckle.
“That’s smart. Good strategy.” How was he playing this off like some funny joke she questioned to herself as she took a few steps forward, arms still crossed just loosely, and closer to her abdomen. {they’re on the roof, i'm compromised }. Well in theory it always had been just a sick, sick prank someone decided to play on a good man. She knew that, anyone who knew him knew that, but he hadn’t gotten that far in the history books quite yet. “Why’d they send you to the rescue, shouldn't the blond one be here.”
“Steve doesn’t know Romanian,-” she lied easily “-and won’t be particularly excited if I go back to the rendezvous point empty-handed, so please, do this for him.” She said eagerly, the Soldier could tell she was holding something back, that wanted to be let go; but both of them understood now was obviously one thousand percent not the time. “You have like 10 seconds to figure out what you’re doing, and this doesn’t need to end in a fight.” in another eager tone...
“Is the Black Widow begging the common man for HIS compliance?” he said finally turning to face her, taking off the glove covering his left hand. “It always ends in a fight, Natalia.” {three seconds} And there it was, his tell wasn’t body language, it was knowledge, it was a spoken word that would only freeze her in place if it escaped his lips. { breach! breach! breach!}
“What did you just s-” the question she had been waiting to ask almost slipped past her lips if not for the sound of a battering ram slamming into the wooden door of the soldier’s apartment. Sadly the Soldier was right, it was ending in a fight one more time-- a fight she couldn’t participate in.
After fleeing the scene entirely, she found out only one of the two of them had made it out of the building without getting caught. Funny how history repeats itself. The spy paints her face with cluelessness as she passes government officials on her way to meet with Steve, Sam, and Sharon in a conference room. Not quickly enough it seems, because the spy is now fighting the urge to run up to the glass box the man she had just been conversing with was being held in, and break him out. Now was not the time to give away her cover, because she never has, and kept walking past the guarded hallway although she could feel the weight of his eyes on her as she got farther and farther away.
“Why would the Task Force release this photo to begin with?” Steve spoke as calmly as he could, placing the enlarged image of his once best friend on the table.
“Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?” Sharon, the nurse from across the hall.
“Right. It's a good way to flush a guy out of hiding. Set off a bomb, get your picture taken. Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier.” Steve said, voice unwavering where was he going with this she thought.
“You're saying someone framed him to find him?”
It was Sam's turn for input, “Steve, we looked for the guy for two years and found nothing.”
“You guys didn't bomb the UN. That turns a lot of heads.” Natasha says quietly, but loudly enough and with enough rasp to her murmur for the group to shift their attention to the voice... she understood exactly where Steve was going with this.
“Yeah, but that doesn't guarantee that whoever framed him would get him. It guarantees that we would.” Sharon states. With that, Steve and Natasha share a glance, quickly, before the redhead turned her attention to the surveillance feed from the room where the Soldier was being held.
“Yeah.” they said at the same time.
And then the building went black, flashing red lights being her only aid in navigating herself and Sharon out of the building.
And then she was fighting her former lover, trying everything in the book to break him free.
“You could at least recognize me.” she said as her only effort of defense. To die at the hands of the soldier was to die in the grip of the one she loved. Natasha, whether too hopeful or too lacking of oxygen to tell if it was fact or fiction, felt the clutch at her neck loosen slightly. Had he actually remembered? If he had, the thought was conveniently and quite literally kicked out of him just as an inch of realization had ran through his eyes.