Burning

Without another word, the Avengers broke for the border of Nova Grad in a dead sprint. Steve and Bucky led the way, with Natasha and Wanda following behind as close as they could. Pietro streaked here and there, a blur of blue and white through the city.

They found themselves funneled onto a bridge… or half of one. The connection had been severed, leaving a road that abruptly cut off into a cliff that was steadily climbing higher into the air.

There’s wasn’t time to stand in awe of the changing view before them. For now, the scene was a mess. A complete, chaotic mess. People who has been trying to flee the city by car or on foot were suddenly cut off from their escape routes. Those who had almost made it out found themselves on the literal edge of the city. Some teetered on the new cliffs, an unlucky few tumbled over.

Add another wave of Ultron’s metal minions and it was more than enough to keep the Avengers busy.

Thor flew over the edge in the blink of an eye, and Steve was already trying to stop another car from falling over. Bucky shared a brief glance with Natasha, who responded with a nod, her expression hardened. She pulled her electric batons from her belt and snapped them to full length. The message was clear: she would work on the bots, while he helped with the rescue.

Bucky turned back to the scene before him and launched himself into action. A pair of men huddled nearby, kneeling on the edge of the rapidly rising cliff, shouting to someone below. Bucky made it to the men in a few long strides before gently pushing them to the side to see what they had been focused on.

A middle aged woman crouched on a ledge below, pressing herself against the earthen wall of the flying island. A terrified grunt escaped her lips as one foot slipped and then was quickly pulled back toward her, sending a spray of pebbles off the edge.

There was no time to hesitate. Bucky dropped to one knee and reached an arm out toward the woman.

“Grab my hand!” he yelled, getting her attention and drawing her eyes from the ledge to himself.

At the sight of him, the woman started with a cry. She fell backward on her seat in retreat, creating as much distance as she could between herself and Bucky as she could in the cramped space.

Confusion at her reaction fluttered through Bucky’s mind before it was quickly chased by realization. He had extended his left arm toward her - his metal arm. The woman was afraid of the Winter Soldier.

Gritting his teeth against a flush of disappointment, Bucky shook his head and withdrew his hand. But the woman still needed help, and the men nearby wouldn’t be strong enough to pull her up on their own.

He flattened himself on his belly against the ground and tried again, this time with his right hand. “It’s okay,” he called, using great effort to keep his voice soft, even. “I can pull you up. It’s okay.”

The woman seemed to debate his offer, glancing down again, toward the ground that was so quickly pulling away from them. Despite her warm sweater and padded vest, Bucky saw her breath hitch in her chest.

“Don’t look down,” he urged. “Just look at me. You can do this. Just take my hand.”

Her eyes turned back up toward him, and she rose to a squatting position, one trembling hand reaching upward while the other leaned against fhe cliff for balance.

She was still a few inches too far. She was going to have to fully get to her feet. “You’re doing great,” Bucky said. He glanced upward at one of the men who had initially been trying to help her. “Isn’t she doing great?”

Taking his cue, both men chiming in with loud cries of encouragement. The woman’s knees began to straighten. Her fingertips brushed his.

The city suddenly shuddered, the weight of the land unnatural in the sky. The woman’s feet faltered, her mouth opening in a scream.

Bucky pushed himself forward, further over the edge than he had previously dared. He felt a terrifying unbalance, but his hand found hers, and he gave her a yank with all of his strength. He heaved her onto the solid ground next to him and pushed himself away from the edge, all in one movement.

One of the men quickly gathered the woman up into his arms, and with only a glance backward to convey their thanks, the trio of strangers fled from the edge.

Bucky paused, willing his heart to slow. That had been too close. For both of them.

Another cry of terror came from a few feet away, and Bucky carefully tucked his own fear away. This was going to be a long fight.

—-

He was running out of victims to save. Finally. Bucky took a final glance around to ensure there were no more civilians near the edge of the city before moving to regroup with the rest of his team.

With purposeful steps, he rounded a corner that brought Natasha and Steve into sight. Two heroes, standing on the edge of a flying cliff, overlooking the rest of the world. Bucky didn’t slow his approach, and opened his mouth to start the discussion of how exactly they should get off this flying rock.

“I didn’t say we should leave,” Natasha said, her green eyes on Steve.

Bucky stopped in his tracks just a few paces behind the pair, stunned. No… she couldn’t mean…

Natasha kept talking, but the words were hollow in his ears. It wasn’t the words that resonated with him so. It was the expression on her face.

He had known Natasha Rominov in a number of situations over the years, and had experienced a whole range of emotions that she typically kept closed off from the rest of the world. She was calm. Rational. Afraid. Guarded. Angry. Joyful. Determined. Vengeful. Passionate. Vulnerable. But this was the first time he saw her whole body completely relax, outside of being bundled up in his arms in their bed. Even under her black suit, he could see her muscles lose their tension. The lines in her face had evaporated. The hardness in her eyes was gone.

It wasn’t that she was giving up. It was that she was at peace.

The red in her ledger, the ghosts that always haunted her mind in the background of every situation she found herself in, would finally be silenced. If the Black Widow sacrificed her life for the world, she would finally have repaid her debt.

But that wasn’t right. Natasha was a good person, despite her past. They had only just found each other again. He was only just regaining his memories of her. If they died to save the world, he would never wake up to see her smile in the morning. He would never see that flash of fire in her eyes when he touched her. They wouldn’t get to sit outside on a sunny afternoon, enjoying coffee and baklava. He would never watch her close her eyes and dance in bare feet while her favorite ballet played on her record player. He would never get to take her on that vacation.

Her name escaped his lips in a dry whisper, and Natasha turned to flash him a melancholy smile.

“James,” she said softly, “it’s okay.”

But it fucking wasn’t. It wasn’t her time. She had already given so much, so selflessly to the world that so often didn’t deserve her. She wouldn’t have to give her life, too. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

Bucky surged forward, anger suddenly flowing through his veins. The Soldier was threatening to take over, and he was about to let him. If anyone could complete this mission, to see Natasha to safety, it was -

An unexpected gust of wind hit him square in the face and made him pause in his tracks, raising a metal hand to shield his eyes.

Something was rising in front of them. Something impossibly huge, and impossibly hopeful. When Nick Fury’s mocking voice came through the comms, a tremendous weight lifted off his heart. Bucky even allowed himself a small smile.

“Change of directive, team,” Captain America spoke through the comms. “Get all civilians onto the lifeboats. Leave no one in the city that isn’t made of metal.”

Tasha turned back toward Bucky, meeting his eyes again. He could see in her face that emotions were bottled up, put away just like he had become so good at doing. But she gave him a smirk.

“You heard the man, Sergeant. Let’s get to work.”