Ghosts of the Past

Chapter 17

TW// Graphic violence, Death

Natasha awoke in a cold sweat. Her heart nearly pumped out of her chest. Her chest moved up and down in time with her racing heart. She tried to slow her breathing and take deep breaths, but she struggled. Her vision blurred and head spinned as she laid her head back down on the pillow. She rolled over. She half expected to meet a kind, but concerned face, but she only found a cold, hard bed and empty space. Numbness spread through her body as her tears trickled onto the pillow. Natasha pulled the blankets tight around her body. Maybe if she concentrated, she could pretend it was Steve's loving and understanding embrace, helping her through her nightmares.
But it wasn't.

Steve sat alone on a balcony in Wakanda watching another beautiful sunrise. One he wished he could share with Natasha. Months had passed since Natasha disappeared. The worst thing about her disappearing was that if she didn't want to be found, he probably wouldn't be able to find her. Steve spent three months following every lead he found, but he either was two steps behind her or completely in the wrong place. The chase infuriated him. He didn't understand why she shut him out so suddenly. He would have gladly ran away with her. They could pretend they were anyone but themselves; in fact, he wished everyday since she had disappeared into those dark woods, he was anyone else, but Steve Rogers or Captain America.

A small, quiet 'hello' drew Steve out of his daze. He glanced over his shoulder to see Bucky standing in the door way.
"Hey, Buck. Come sit."
Bucky plopped down in a chair beside Steve. They sat in silence, staring out over the mountains. Steve wondered whether Natasha stopped to enjoy a sunrise while on the run.
"How are you feeling?" Bucky asked after a long silence.
"Physically fine." Steve shrugged.
"She'll come back."
Steve shook his head and glanced over at Bucky. "Will she?"
Steve's gaze turned back to the mountains. Bucky probably knew more about Natasha than he did. That thought infuriated him. He knew so little about her past. She held everything so close to the vest. She trusted him, but not with her past.
Bucky touched Steve's hand. "You can't run yourself ragged. You'll kill yourself running all over the world trying to find her."
Steve clenched his jaw. He couldn't leave her out there alone.
"Buck, I won't stop looking."
A sad look flashed over Bucky's face. He knew Steve would never stop. He didn't with him.
"Remember you were really sick. That's the only reason you stopped because you knew you couldn't continue like that. If you do it again, you might not be so lucky. That serum only does so much, Steve. She'd never forgive herself if you got hurt looking for her. You just have to let her sort it out on her own."
Steve shook his head and balled his fists.
"But she doesn't have to!"
Steve pushed himself to his feet abruptly. Tears jumped to his eyes as he stormed into his room.
Bucky followed him. Steve paced around the room.
Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but Steve glared at him.
"You probably know the lov- You probably know her better than I do." Steve looked to Bucky for answers, "If I could just understand her past, maybe she would come back."
Bucky furrowed his brow and sighed. "Steve, it's not my place to tell about her past."
"So you do remember?"
Bucky pursed his lips. He started remembering his stint in the Red Room, but he didn't want Steve to know. He would push him for information.
"Please, Bucky."
Bucky shook his head. "I can't. She has to tell you."
Steve frowned and turned away from Bucky, but when he turned around, the dark look on his face broke Bucky's heart.
"Her past is dark. It's bloody." Bucky blurted out. "That's all I'm willing to say."
Steve sighed and sunk to the bed. "I'm sorry. I just want her back."

Natasha's feet smacked the pavement over and over. The rhythm slowed her thoughts. She could think without an onslaught of nightmarish thoughts clouding her mind. Flashes of the bloody scene appeared in her mind.
--
Alexi charged her. She threw everything she had at him. He had assumed the drugs still dampened her strength. He stumbled under the huge force of her crashing into him. That gave her the chance to wrap her legs around his neck and choke him. He thrashed, and she squeezed tighter. He banged himself into the wall to hurt her, but her choke-hold remain strong. He dropped to his knees, vision blurring from lack of oxygen. Natasha released him a bit to see if she had properly knocked him out, but he thrashed again and threw her across the room. He came at her with a gun. Natasha laid somewhere between awake and unconscious as Alexi hovered over her body. He trained his gun on her. Natasha laid there as he leaned down and smashed his lips against hers.
Alexi muttered against her lips. "Goodbye, чорт."
Alexi cocked the gun and closed his eyes. Instinct made Natasha grasped a piece of glass. Before she could even think, she slit his throat. Blood poured out. Natasha screamed as his body crumpled on to her. She pushed and pushed until she finally rolled him off. Her hands stained with his blood. Again.
Natasha rocked back and forth, sobbing. After a few moments, Natasha stopped crying. She looked at the body. He seemed to be still gurgling. His eyes were still darting around the room, but his chest was barely rising. She dragged him out into the snow. Maybe she could give him a peaceful last moment.
The sky was clear. Natasha was reminded nothing was quite like the Russian sky on a clear night. Way out in the wilderness with no light around for miles, the stars were clear and the sky was colorful.
Alexi and Natasha stared up at the night sky as he took his last breath. Natasha hoped that moment would give her peace, but her eyes fell back to Alexi's lifeless body. She did this to herself and him. After saying muttering a Russian prayer for his soul, Natasha grabbed his knife and finished the job. She didn't want a repeat of this situation. She didn't think she could handle another one.
--
"It was self defense" she told herself. Maybe that was right this time, but last time...
Natasha stopped and dropped down on a park bench. She let out a heavy sigh. She kept reliving the two times she killed Alexi. What could she have done different? Was she a cold blooded murderer?
Her mind often ran to Steve. He was a mirror for her. He showed her who she truly was, but after this... she wasn't sure she could stomach looking in that mirror again. She thought she had broken free of the clutches of her past, but like a disease, it wormed its way back into her mind, into her life. The people and actions that shaped her terrified her, but she wasn't her without them.
There was no separating the murderer from the Avenger.

Bucky and Sam watched as Steve climbed into the quin-jet.
"You should go with him." Sam muttered.
Bucky shook his head. "You should."
Sam watched as Steve got the jet started.
"He wouldn't let me. I didn't want to get my ass kicked." Sam chuckled.
"He'll run himself into the ground without someone to stop him."
Bucky stared out at the mountains that guarded Wakanda from the outside.
"He'd never let me, and anyway, I still don't think it safe."
Sam scowled. "They aren't looking for you. You've been pardoned."
Buck flashed a sad sort of smile as the quin-jet lifted off the ground.
"Safe for everyone else."
Sam glanced at Bucky as Bucky watched for the quin-jet to disappear.
'Maybe I should be easier on the old guy,' he thought.

Steve waved at the two specs watching him disappear. Maybe he should have let someone tag along, but he thought he might be able to find Natasha easier if he just went to places with importance to her or to them. He didn't want to share their stolen moments over the years. He hoped maybe his love for her would guide him right to her.