Nat's POV
Waiting.
There is nothing to do but wait.
Wait to be told if the love of life is going to be ok.
It has been more than 14 hours since Steve got rushed into surgery at the SHIELD hospital and I have heard absolutely nothing since.
And trust me, it is not from lack of trying.
I lifted my head as the door opened, hoping to find a nurse or a doctor walking in to tell me something. Anything.
But no, it was a very beaten, rugged looking Bucky. I immediately stood up, grabbed my gun and pointed it directly at him. The last time he had been conscious, he wasn't exactly my good friend that I had in the Red Room.
"Woah, woah Natalia! I'm not here to hurt you." He said as he put his hands above his head and tentatively made his way to one of the uncomfortable plastic hospital chairs a few metres from my own.
I lowered my gun slowly, but still kept it in my lap just in case. There was no way that I was about to trust this guy.
"You know, one of the doctors told me that someone recalibrated my mind. Forcefully. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?" He asked cheekily but I wasn't having any of it.
"So what if I did?" I coldly retorted, making him frown.
"Then I would thank you." He simply replied and I looked at him carefully, trying to get some kind of read on him.
"They took you away in chains. How come you are allowed here?" I asked after a moment of silence, trying to keep my thoughts off of my seriously injured husband.
"They allowed me to come and see my best friend." He said as he joined me in staring at the blank white wall at the front of the SHEILD hospital waiting room.
That was when I felt the recently familiar twisting feeling in my stomach and I rushed to the bathroom, only just making it before I threw up in the toilet. Gosh I am hating this.
I cleaned myself up and then left the bathroom, making a beeline for the mints. Once I returned to the waiting room, Bucky was still there, much to my disgust.
"What was all of that about?"
"None of your business." I replied as I continued to give him one of my famous Black Widow death glares.
"You know, I never thought I would see the day." He responded and I tried to ignore him the best that I could. But after a few moments, my curiosity got the best of me and I looked at him again, arching an eyebrow.
"Steve, getting a girl. Back in the day, it used to take me hours to convince him to even come within ten metres of a woman. He was tough as nails, but also the biggest dork you'd ever met." He relayed. At least he could remember Steve. I know that he would be so thrilled to have 'his' Bucky back again.
"I guess some things never change." I mumbled under my breath, but due to Bucky's enhanced abilities, he heard me anyway.
"Your right about that. Like the fact that you still have major trust issues. By the way, can you put the gun away!?" He retorted and I sat in shock at what he had just said. He remembered me. He remembered the Red Room. It was real. He could remember.
"Well when I was raised in a torture prison, what do you expect?" I retorted sarcastically, knowing that Bucky would only take it in the best way.
"I suppose your right. How long did it take you before you got away?" He asked carefully, as if trying to gauge just how much he could ask.
"After you got transferred to HYDRA, 4 years." I replied shortly, trying to force back all of the horrible memories.
"I'm sorry you know. What happened to you, what I did to you, was horrible." Bucky solemnly apologised.
"It wasn't your fault. You had no control over what you did. Just like the rest of us."
After that we both sat in silence, waiting for any news.
After 2 hours of silence, well apart from the rest of the team who came about an hour ago to wait with us, we finally got some news.
"After an intensive 8 hour surgery, we are pleased to inform that we have stabilised Steve Rogers." A surgeon reported and a collective relieved sigh could be heard through out the group.
"But he is still in a frail condition, so we will only allow one person to enter his recovery room at this time." I stood up immediately, knowing that none of the others would have had any complaints for letting his wife go and see him. Especially after everything that we had been through over the last 24 hours. I needed to see for myself to know if my husband really was okay!
I followed hastily behind the surgeon down a series of corridors before he stopped outside of room 64, and opened the door for me. I gave him a faint smile as a thank you and tentatively entered the room, pausing to take in the sight of my husband.
Geez!