Natalia had tried. But the facility was empty the next night. Hastily emptied, by the look of it. Had someone known she was there? Surely she hadn't become that sloppy? In any case, the trail ran cold after that. No mention of the Winter Soldier could be found anywhere and most sources thought he was a myth. She didn't give up, but it was hard to keep up the search. Especially when so much had changed.
It had been years since she'd seen Ivan, or even Madame B. Her handlers were ever changing and her missions unclear. It was easy, when the moment came, to defect. To make a name for herself as the Black Widow. The other Widows were gone, everyone was gone. Her life was so different that sometimes she wondered if any of it had been real.
Clint Barton found her, chose not to kill her. So she'd become Natasha Romanoff, SHIELD agent, Strike Team Delta. The work was easy for her and she realized how much she needed to make up for what she had done. To finally have a place to do that was very important to her. But it didn't really strike home that she had changed sides until she saw him again.
Escorting persons of interest was a regular part of her job. She was good at it. Better doing solo missions, of course, but reliable nonetheless. The scientist outside Odessa was the first one she'd lost. Her handlers had dismissed her claims of the Winter Soldier as a myth, not a reliable lead. But she could not let go how he had shot through her, leaving her alive. Why had he done that? Did he remember? Was there any part of him that did?
Clint's influence kept her from chasing after a ghost when she recovered, and eventually she accepted it. Then she became one of the Avengers, regularly working with Captain America himself. It seemed a strange twist in fate that such a drastic change in circumstances would be what brought the Winter Soldier back into her life. Even if he didn't know her. Even if, stranger still, he did know Captain America.
When she had some time to recover her bearings in Moscow, she sought out Steve. He was in hiding, of course, but he wasn't a spy. He couldn't just disappear. And working with him was easy enough, even though they kept to the shadows. That was easy for her. Easier than being a hero had ever been. Sometimes Steve talked about his friend Bucky, and she would listen as though it meant no more to her than it did to Sam.
She thought a lot about what she might say to him if she saw him again. Though Steve was content to let him make his choice to stay hidden somewhere, it was obvious that he did not expect that to last forever. That he expected his best friend to join him someday. And what would Natasha do when he did?
Working with him would be painful. Seeing him and not being recognized had already been more painful than she had anticipated, and she didn't know if she could bear to make that a regular state of affairs. Even if she would work well with him. Even if Steve hoped they would all make a good team.
Sometimes she thought about telling Steve. But she couldn't. What would she say? Oh, hey, when your buddy was a brainwashed Soviet assassin, he and I knew each other. The thought was ludicrous. Just the idea made her laugh, maybe a little hysterically. No, she couldn't tell Steve. He had his own picture of what being the Winter Soldier must have been like and it was not her place to correct him.
After two years, things outside of anyone's control forced Steve's hand, and he took them to Wakanda. He told her briefly what he knew about it, and that it was where Bucky had been hiding out. Cryogenically frozen. Natasha had hidden her horror at that, telling herself that the Wakandan's technology wouldn't be like Department X's, surely. Steve wouldn't have left him there if that had been the case.
The moment came at last where she saw him again. He looked good. His hair was longer, so he couldn't have been frozen for very long. The Wakandans had helped him. He joked with Sam and Steve, and even with her. But he didn't really look at her.
And then they were off to save the world. Somehow, they ended up in the same transport. She wanted to ask him about that, but she didn't. It could wait. There were more important things happening.
It was like a nightmare. Worse than that. Ever since aliens had attacked New York and she had been one of the few people there to stop them, nothing like this had happened. All her training, all her experience, and she could barely comprehend what was going on.
Sleep escaped her that night and she stood in a kitchen – she didn't know whose – and stared out the window, wondering how they could possibly move forward. How her life could continue in any discernable path. This was far worse than dismantling SHIELD or when the Avengers fought each other. At least then, she'd had familiar ground to return to. Now...
"Oh, sorry," a familiar voice interrupted her.
The Wint – Bucky. He looked chagrined but she wasn't about to let him walk away. This might be her only chance and she wasn't going to pass it up. Still, best not to rush into things and startle him.
"That's a nice gun you've been using."
He ran his fingers through his hair and his expression turned rueful. "It's yours."
"Is it?"
"Yeah. I mean, I guess so. I got it out of a locker with your name on it."
She stared at him for a moment, not comprehending. "When?"
"On the quinjet. After you let me and Steve escape. Thank you for that, by the way," he added, moving closer so they weren't having to shout across the room. Not that either of them had been speaking very loudly.
She regarded him, thinking. "Why did you pick my locker?"
He froze. "Seemed like a good place to look."
"You didn't like Sam's guns?"
There was a pause before he shrugged. "I didn't check Sam's stuff. We... weren't on the best terms."
She smiled. "Unlike you and me."
The silence stretched and she waited patiently, intent on pushing him to give some indication about his feelings. Even if he was just uncomfortable with his best friend's friend whom he'd previously attacked. That would be something.
"Look, I... I'm sorry for what happened."
"When?"
He ran his fingers through his hair again, exasperated this time. "Any time. I have a lot to apologize to you for, don't I?"
"No," she replied, and he looked up at her sharply. His eyes were pretty. Even if his expression was more distressed than she would have preferred.
"You're going to tell me it wasn't my fault, that it wasn't me doing any of those things?" His tone indicated that he was tired of that sentiment.
"I'm not." His confusion and maybe frustration was obvious so she relented. "I know what it's like, to be a weapon. To be used however someone else chooses. That doesn't mean I have no responsibility for what I did, though. Just maybe a reason to believe that I can be... more than the monster they made me."
He was watching her warily at first, but then like he had been waiting to hear that for a very long time. "You're not a monster, Natalia," he murmured, stepping closer to her. How had he gotten so close? Barely a foot away. It made her heart pound rather unexpectedly.
"No?"
"No, you're not," he told her firmly, reaching up to touch her cheek very hesitantly.
She bit her lip, thoughts reeling as she tried to figure out what he could mean by this behavior. "What am I, then?"
"You're a good agent, Natalia. The best. You always amaze me. But that isn't all of who you are."
Taking a deep shuddering breath, she realized she was leaning into his hand and tried to decide if she wanted to stop or not. In any case, she was tired of guessing. "Do you remember it all? Our time together when I was young?" It came out as a whisper, but she had finally managed to ask it. Even if the man before her was so different from the one she'd known in the Red Room. Even if he was a whole person and his time as a weapon was just a small part of his life. Even if he had so little in common with her anymore.
"Yeah, I remember everything, Natalia. And you were the one good thing in all of it."
She felt warmth flood her cheeks for the first time in as long as she could remember. Then she leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips. "A little something to let you know I haven't forgotten, either," she told him with a smile.
A grin spread across his face and she felt her heart flutter at the sight. Maybe, when all this was over, there might be something familiar for her after all.