She keeps a copy of the picture for herself against better judgement, tucking it away in the bag she carries with her.
She pats that same spot on her bag out of habit now, making sure it’s safe.
At this point she’s memorized it completely, the details of the uniform, the hat, even his smile.
Her stomach knots when she looks at his smile, her lips curling up and mimicking his expression.
There’s something familiar about it, she thinks to herself. She’s seen that smile before.
Her head begins to spin and she drops the photo.
He isn’t just the winter soldier, she knows as much, but the more she thinks about him the more uneasy she feels.
**********************************
She’s in a small apartment somewhere in Brazil and the picture is bent and faded from use and has moved its way to her pocket.
She dreams about the picture now, too. Watching the ghost of the man in her picture walking in front of her as though he never left that moment.
She walks towards him as if on instinct, reaching her hand out to touch him. His uniform feels rough on her fingertips but he feels it and turns towards her.
Their eyes meet and her head starts to spin again, she feels her muscles tense and her breath hitching.
He calls her Natalia and she starts to feel cold.
She wakes up in a cold sweat in the dead of the night, but it isn’t the first time it’s happened.
*************************************
The sun is setting when she spots him, his hair falling in front of his face, an old ball cap on top of it.
She freezes, watching him from the corner of her eye as he walks quickly through the market. She pulls her own coat over her, popping the collar up, hiding her face.
He knows that he’s being followed and he quickens his pace, running into alleys and jumping over carts and stalls trying to lose her.
She follows him as he leads her to the outskirts of town, where no one sees them running after each other, and no one asks what’s going on.
She lands the first blow to him, trying to stop him. His hands go up in defense, blocking her own movements. The fight feels familiar to her, the way he avoids her kicks, as though he knows exactly what she’ll do before she does. He only blocks, but does not fight back.
“Bucky!” she finally yells out and he freezes. She knocks him to the ground and pins him, pressing her knee into his neck.
“What do you want?” he asks through gritted teeth. She pulls out the picture from her back pocket, showing it to him. He stops moving, staring at the image of himself from decades ago in her hand.
“Where did you get that?” he chokes out.
“The same place we first met,” she replies. She feels him tense underneath her. “I have questions.” He stares at the picture for a moment, and then nods, and she gets off him.
She chased him into an abandoned apartment that smells of mold. He gets up and dusts himself off while she takes a seat on the opposite side of him.
“What do you want to know?” he asks.
“We know each other, don’t we?” she asks.
“I shot at you in DC,” he replies.
“Before that,” she says.
“I don’t know who I was before this,” he responds.
“You’re lying.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because this is about both of us,” she says. “And I know that you remember.”
“How?”
“Because you didn’t kill me.”
“Was I supposed to?”
“It seemed like it.” He sighs deeply and sits on the floor, holding his head in his hands.
“It was a long time ago, okay? Even I don’t remember everything that happened.”
“But you still remember something,” she says.
“I remember...Russia. I remember it always being cold…,” he trails off.
“Details,” she orders. He sighs and looks up at her.
“Your name was Natalia, back then,” he starts hesitantly. “You looked the same then too. We trained together, in the Red Room. I trained you, taught you everything you know, but you never wanted to admit that,” he says, smirking. She doesn’’t move a muscle. “You were different from the rest of us there. You...felt more than anyone else there. That was always your weakness, you were very emotional.”
“Some people would beg to differ,” she mumbles. He smiles slightly, his eyes lighting up at the remark.
“You were always wittier than me, too,” he continues.
“So what, I was too emotional and they didn’t like that?” she asks, changing the subject.
“We fell in love, Nat,” he says quietly. “That’s why we don’t remember half of what happened.”
“I fell for you?” she asks, “And now we don’t have any of those memories?”
“Like I said, it was a weakness. They told us that the only way we could become the best was to...put aside those emotions, focus on our training,” he says, shrugging. He stands up and walks around the apartment, peering out the boarded up windows into the darkness of the city around them.
“We were in love,” she repeats.
“We were,” he confirms. “We were stupid and in love, and…,” he trails off.
“They found out,” she continues for him, pulling her knees closer to her, letting her head fall down. “We...didn’t lose each other, we…”
“We were taken away from each other,” he finishes.
He stands there in front of her, no more than ten feet apart, the silence growing between them. She shuts her eyes tight, images of a time long ago, when his hair was shorter and he smiled more.
“You were the most incredible student there,” he finally says after a moment. “When we trained together...it was like lightning.”
“We were unstoppable,” she says.
“And that’s why they took us away from each other. We were too strong together, and we weren’t careful.”
“How do you remember all of this?” she asks, looking up at him now. She feels small tears fall down her face but she keeps her voice steady.
“I don’t think I ever forgot it. They tortured me, but...I think it was you that...kept me human, despite it all,” he explains. He sits down in front of her now, close enough to touch her, but still enough space for her to move.
“How long ago was this?” she asks, trying to put the memories together.
“Decades ago,” he says with a smile. “We’re older than we look, you know.”
“I figured as much,” she responds.
“I can’t remember when it was, to be honest...it’s all hazy now, but you...you’re clear as day.” She moves closer to him now, their knees touching and she can sense the hesitation when she takes his metal hand in hers.
“I remember you smiling,” she starts, staring at his hand. “I remember being warm with you…”
“What else?” he asks, his voice barely audible.
“I remember...that I loved you, James Barnes,” she says, lacing their fingers together.
He smiles softly at her, and she can see his body relax at the confession.
“I’ve missed you, Natalia,” he says.
“I’ve missed you too, James,” she responds. She watches his eyes trail up her arms and to her shoulders.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” she says. He startles and looks up at her. “Where I was shot.” She pulls off her jacket, exposing the healed patch of skin where she was shot only months ago.
“I did that,” he says with resignation.
“Not you,” she says, shaking her head. “The Winter Soldier. There’s a difference.”
“I was the Winter Soldier when we fell in love, you know,” he reminds her.
“From what I remember I fell in love with James Barnes,” she says, pulling him back closer to her.
“I’m not that James anymore,” he says with a smirk.
“And I’m not Natalia anymore,” she replies.
“I think Natalia suits you more than Natasha,” he says, shrugging.
“If you say so,” she says as she leans in, moving to her knees, closing the space between them.
“Are you sure?” he whispers and she nods once, looking into his eyes,
“Yes, I am,” she says, kissing him. His other arm wraps around her waist as he kisses back, their fingers interlocking. He’s warm to the touch and she lets herself fall into him, relaxing as he holds her.
When she pulls away from him she can see the morning sun seep through the cracks of the boards on the windows, casting a glow around them, shining off his metal arm. She leans in but stops when she hears her phone go off. Silently cursing the message she sighs,
“I have to go,” she says quietly, resting her forehead against his.
“Not yet,” he whispers, caressing her face. “Please.”
“I’ll come back for you,” she says, standing up slowly. “I promise.”
“We have a lot to catch up on,” he says, standing up in front of her now.
“We will, don’t worry,” she says with a smirk. He goes in for one last kiss, his lips lingering on hers for a moment longer. “I just have to go save the world in the meantime.”
“Always the hero,” he whispers.
“Goodbye James,” she says, walking away.
“Natalia,” he calls out to her.
“Yes?” she responds, stopping in her tracks, a hint of hope in her voice. He opens his mouth and then closes it, unsure of what to say.
“Nat…” he trails off.
“Spit it out, Barnes,” she says.
“Nothing, stay warm is all, and be careful.” She smiles, pulling her coat on.
“I will.”