Steve

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Earth, 2024

The silver shine of bucky's metal arm contrasted the black matte of the arm of Natasha's suit that it grabbed. His hand blocked her strike from above. She wasn't going to give up that easily. Natasha circled her arm out to the side; Bucky's tight grip launched him into the air, flipping over her arm as he released. Bucky's feet landed steadily on the ground.

"Weak," Bucky muttered in Russain as he attempted to launch a punch square across Natasha's chest.

His fist was met by a steady hand. "Oh really," Natasha replied, keeping the conversation in Russian. She released her arm, pushing Bucky back in the process,

"You know, Buck," Steve interjected in English, "you could try--"

"Which one of us is not a trained assassin?" Bucky remarked. He blocked another overhead approach by Natasha.

"Fine," Steve replied defensively.

The back-and-forth of strikes and blocks by Bucky and Natasha with the trash talk in Russian and the occasional unsolicited comments from Steve continued for 5 minutes. Suddenly, Natasha gained a huge advantage: she had managed to control Bucky's metal arm. In one graceful motion, Natasha launched herself into the air, flipped over Bucky's arm, and stomped it off.

"That's not fair!" Bucky shouted.

"Nat, give Bucky his arm back," Steve scolded.

"Fine. I still win." Natasha let out a huge sigh as she handed Bucky his arm back. "That's enough fun for today. I think I need to sit down." She began to slowly lower herself down to the floor, but her control didn't last long. There was a sudden thud on the floor mat. Natasha laid lifeless, sprawled out against the blue floor.

Steve ran from his spot on the sidelines to the middle of the room, where Natasha lay. "Natasha!" he shouted, hoping to wake her up. There was no response. He knelt down next to her and placed his hand against her wrist. He felt nothing. He tried her neck. Yet again, nothing. He placed his ear against her chest. Still no signs of a pulse. "Buck, I don't have a pulse. Call 9-1-1."

"An ambulance? We can't afford that."

"It's not like we're poor."

"Things have changed significantly since the war, Steve. No one can afford an ambulance."

"SHIELD can. Now, PLEASE, just call 9-1-1."

"On it."

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The EMTs sprinted down the sleek modern hallway of the Avengers facility. They ran a stretcher alongside themselves. Upon their arrival, the EMTs pulled it up right next to Natasha.

"Are you..." the male started.

"Captain America?" the female finished.

"Yes and no. Call me Steve Rogers," Steve replied.

"Alexei," the male stuck his hand out.

"Sasha," the female said, "it's so good to--"

Bucky interrupted, kneeling beside Natasha's still-unconscious body. "Chest compressions for about thirty seconds. Then I realized that she was vibrating, so I backed away. She is now respirating on her own." Bucky laid his hand on Natasha's arm and felt her racing heartbeat.

Just as Sasha and Alexei were about to lift Natasha onto the stretcher, Sasha noticed a faint blue glow from around Natasha's wrists. "What is that?" she asked, motioning to Natasha's blue-glowing bracelets.

"Her Widow's Bite," Bucky responded. "But they are deactivated because they are off-limits for practice."

Alexei stared down at the soft black sheen of Natasha's suit against the blue mat. His brow furrowed. "Do they come off?" he asked.

"No," Steve sighed. "They are attached to this suit."

Sasha glanced over at Alexei. At this point in their partnership, they could almost communicate telepathically. Alexei nodded. "If any part of the casualty is dangerous, regardless of state of consciousness, they must be restrained," Sasha recited. "I have some rope. We can attach her wrists to guides on the side."

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"I have never been inside a modern ambulance," Steve remarked.

Alexei kept his eyes on the road. "Huh?" He was cut off by Sasha.

"So what was being frozen in ice for 70 years like?" Sasha asked. She looked up from the monitor next to Natasha's body, now letting out a steady beeping.

"I don't know. I was frozen," Steve responded sarcastically, "What about you, Buck? What was it like being a HYDRA agent for 70 years?"

"I don't know. They kept wiping my memory," Bucky responded in the same sarcastic tone.

"Very funny, you two," Sasha replied.

Bucky's left thumb twitched, making a slight squeaking noise from the abnormal movement. "We really need to stop making that joke," he said. "Just acknowledge that you have fans and your best friend doesn't and your best friend is totally fine that."

"Fine," Steve sighed. He had wanted to draw attention to Bucky. Steve knew that Bucky was just as important and extraordinary and unique as he was, but Bucky never saw any light. Steve could sense Bucky's unease in the moment from the way he sat, the way he was twiddling his thumbs. Steve blankly glanced over at Natasha, whose eyes were beginning to flutter open. "Look who's awake," he said. "Nice to see ya, Agent Romanoff."

Natasha tried to lift her arms or sit up, but she found herself restrained. "What happened?" she mumbled.

"Well, you collapsed. So, I win," Bucky told her.

"And now we are--" Steve continued, "Sasha, how far away are we?"

"Umm... Alexei, ETA?"

"3 minutes."

"3 minutes away from the hospital," Steve finished.

"Okay," Natasha said, releasing the tension in her back, letting herself fall back, helpless against the stretcher. She closed her eyes.

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