Love Grown Cold

Fixing the Assassin

Natasha glanced worriedly over at the Soldier. He was too quiet. Not that he could talk through the mask, but still. He hadn't moved in some time and his eyes were closed. They were almost to the hotel and Natasha knew that there was no way she would be able to carry him, or even drag him, up to the room.

She gently reached over and gripped his arm, shaking it slightly. "Soldier," She wished she knew his name. "We're almost there."

His eyes flew open and he stared at her. He gave her a tired nod. She almost smiled. There was something about him that seemed so familiar, from the way he stared at her to the way he moved.

It was quite a task sneaking the Soldier into the hotel, but somehow they managed. He sat down heavily on one of the two beds. Natasha searched for a moment and came up with a first aid kit.

"Take your shirt off." Natasha told him, sitting down next to him and opening the first aid kit.

He glanced at her in surprise. She blushed a little, realizing how that must sound.

"We need to tend your wound." She explained. He nodded and began taking his shirt off, but she stopped him.

"If I'm going to help you," she said quietly. "I'm going to have to take off your mask." Natasha watched him carefully and saw him considering this. Finally, he reached back and unclipped his mask, setting it gently to the side.

"Better?" He asked her softly. She nodded, trying not to stare. She hadn't really thought about what he would look like underneath the mask, but he was handsome. Very handsome, with a sharp jawline and an expressive face.

"Yeah," she said, getting out some ointment and bandages. "Now let's take a look at that wound."

The Soldier nodded and quietly took off his shirt. Again, Natasha was barely able to keep from staring. She hadn't been able to tell through his uniform, but he was extremely buff. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts and focused on the bullet wound on his abdomen.

"Looks like I'm going to have to pull the bullet out." Natasha said, almost wincing. It was certainly not the most pleasant experience.

The Soldier grimaced and nodded. "Just try to do it quickly." She nodded and pulled out some tools.

"Try to hold still." Natasha said, gently probing in the wound. He inhaled sharply and tensed. "Why don't you tell me something about yourself to keep your mind off the pain?"

The Soldier thought for a moment. "Not much to tell. I don't remember much before they turned me into the Soldier."

Natasha blinked in surprise. She honestly couldn't remember anything before a few years ago when she had met Galensky. He had claimed that she had been raised in the Red Room, had killed her way to being the Black Widow, and had been sent on a dangerous mission where they had wiped her. She hadn't believed them, but she hadn't realized that other people had met the same fate as her.

"How far back do your memories go?" She asked, trying to keep him distracted. She had found the bullet and was going to have to pull it out.

He shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I have a few bits and pieces of them turning me into this. A lot of pain, but not much else. They really start coming in strong a few years ago, but they're mostly missions with not much in between." He let out a small cry of pain as Natasha ripped out the bullet.

"Hard parts over." She told him, smiling a little.

"You're the same way, aren't you?" The Soldier asked.

"Same way as what?"

"Not many memories. And the ones you do have don't make sense."

Natasha nodded. "I can't remember anything before a few years ago either." She began dressing the wound as she spoke, causing him to grit his teeth. "Sometimes I have dreams, though, and I think that they must be memories."

The Soldier regarded her curiously as she began wrapping a bandage around him. "I feel the same way. Like they're memories that I just can't quite reach."

Natasha sighed and stood up, finished patching up the Soldier. "It's difficult, having them there but not there."

"What are your dreams about?" The Soldier asked quietly. She regarded him for a moment, but he seemed genuinely curious, so she sat back down.

"Different things. Sometimes I'm a child, playing with two boys. We are all different, but somehow I know that we're best friends. Other times, I'm fighting a war with those same boys by my side." Natasha shrugged. "Sometimes they aren't pleasant dreams, but I always wake up feeling more complete."

The Soldier nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds nice."

Natasha was dying to ask him about his dreams, but knew that now wasn't the time. She glanced at the clock. "It's getting late. You need to rest to build up your strength again."

The Soldier nodded, laying down and grimacing. "Sure doesn't feel too good."

Natasha chuckled and he looked over at her in surprise, then pleasure. "It might not feel too good now, but if you take care of yourself, then it should heal up quickly."

The Soldier made a face, more like what you would expect from a petulant child. "What if I don't want to take care of myself?"

Natasha glared at him playfully. "Then I'll tie you down and make sure you do."

The Soldier smiled as Natasha turned off the lights and clambered in her bed.

"Goodnight, Natasha,"

"Goodnight, Soldier Boy." Natasha said, and for the first time in a long time, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.