To Thaw a Frozen Heart
Why did no one tell you that it was a three and a half-hour walk? At this rate, you'd never reach Bucharest with enough daylight to actually search for Barnes. Damn you SHIELD. They could've dropped you off a bit closer. Hell, you would have happily parachuted down into the city, if it meant a shorter walk. Nothing was more infuriating than snow seeping into your boots. Better get used to it, you thought, we've got weeks of walking ahead of us.
Your mind wandered back to the last time you experienced snow at the compound. It had been an exhausting day and you were just about to curl up on the sofa like a housecat when someone had snuck up behind you. Placing a kiss to your ear, Tony picked you up and whisked you towards the lift, discarding the mountains of blankets you had piled on top of yourself. You nuzzled into his neck as you began your ascent to his room.
"No don't hide darling. You won't be able to see what I want to show you," he whispered, opening the door to his balcony. Shivering in the winter air, Tony wrapped his arms comfortingly around your waist while settling you both onto the spacious loveseat he had positioned to overlook the garden.
"Look, sweetheart, it's snowing!" Euphoria evidently laced in his exclamation. You gradually opened your eyes to gaze upon the flakes of white delight raining from the heavens. Basking in the comfort of Tony's embrace and the frosty bliss that had engulfed the landscape, you decided that winter was and would be your favourite season for all eternity.
Ha. How naive you were.
Standing in the three inches of snow that had submerged what should have been a serene and easy walk, you cursed yourself for how gullible you had been. Tony somehow made everything seem enchanting and appealing, but in reality: life hated you. Thankfully, you had packed multiple spare socks in your burgen and Hill had promised that the safe house would be fully stocked. Ah yes. The safe house. All you had to do was make it to that little apartment, and you would be able to sleep. A sign labelled "Gara de Nord şapte minute" pointed you in the right direction. Gripping your bag a little tighter, you once again began trekking further into Bucharest.
Exhausted, you hurriedly locked the door behind you as you flung your burgen behind it. After searching for what seemed like hours, you had finally made it to the safe house. SHIELD couldn't have been vaguer if they tried. Not even bothering to change your clothes, you sank down onto the single bed, thankful to have stopped walking. The "apartment" was smaller than your room at the compound had been. Just a small bed in the corner, a mini-fridge and what you assumed to be a bathroom behind a closed curtain. Well, you only had to stay here until you located Barnes. Hopefully, that would be fairly easy now that you were in Bucharest.
Reaching for your washbag, you pulled back the curtain to inspect the bathroom. It was slightly larger than you had expected. Slightly cleaner too. The moderate shower-tub combo lay flat against one wall; a pristine, probably new, shower curtain pulled across it. You reached hesitantly to open it, cautious that someone may have been hiding behind, waiting for you to drop your guard so they could harm you. With one quick motion, the apprehension in your movement dissipated. It was empty. The closet was just an open set of shelves, filled with clothes, both in your size and what you assumed would be Barnes'. Staring into the spotless mirror, you squeezed the toothpaste onto the toothbrush and began to clean your teeth. You needed the routine to feel a sense of normality on this journey full of uncertainty. Your reflection was almost a canvas, a painting of your missions. The array of scars that littered your complexion was a beautiful illustration of your battles and determination to succeed in every aspect of your life. You spat the remaining toothpaste into the almost sterile looking sink. Carefully unzipping the hoodie which hid the SHIELD uniform you were wearing, you hastily stripped off the rest of your clothing and stepped into the shower to try and warm yourself.
The hot water running down your back comforted you, reminding you of the numerous times you and Tony had shared a shower. You missed the way he could make you feel. His soothing embrace guaranteed solace after tiring assignments. Even when he wasn't with you, you longed for his warmth; for his love. You would never get that back. He would hate you for abandoning him, hate you for faking your death, hate you for leaving him alone. A single tear rolled down your cheek. Dammit. You never thought you'd cry whilst reminiscing about him. You never thought you'd yearn for him. You never thought you'd fall apart without him. Turning off the steady stream of water, you leaned against the tiled wall, trying to regain your composure. Sleepily reaching for the stack of towels resting against the bathtub, you wiped the tears from your face.
After changing into a soft, grey pyjama set, you tucked yourself under the thick blanket that lay on top of the small bed. At least you'd be warm tonight. You stared at the ceiling for a moment before turning onto your side to face the door: a habit that Natasha had taught you after a particularly dangerous mission in Munich. Moving the relatively comfortable pillow to be next to you, you cuddled into it, as if it were someone's chest. You hadn't realised how touch-starved you were. You'd only just discovered that your love language was physical touch - not that you'd let anyone know that. It was a way of punishing yourself. You didn't deserve the touch of another. You had to do everything alone: that way the only person that could disappoint you would be yourself. Closing your eyes, you hugged the substitute torso a little tighter.