I'm Coming Home

Almost like how Madame B had found out after a few missions, Nick Fury found that James and Natasha worked well with each other. Okay, “well” was an understatement. They worked amazing together. Their movements were almost mirrored by the other, their fighting in sync, and their communication impeccable. Yet it didn’t feel the same, Natasha noticed. Their bond from before hadn’t exactly translated onto the present, but that same trust was still there. A weaker version of it at least.

Over the course of three months, the two of them had completed about eight missions together, most of them basic infiltrations, nothing that needed more than two agents. They had made quick work and Nick was beyond satisfied.

After every mission, Steve would talk with Nat. “Did he remember you?” He’d ask. “Do you think him going on missions with you will help?” or “Maybe you two fighting together will spark something.”
But Natasha had her doubts. She would shake her head and sigh, telling Steve that if James couldn’t remember her months past, and Shuri couldn’t unlock those memories, it’s highly unlikely that he’ll remember her. Ever.

“You could always just tell him. Then he’d…”

“I won’t do that Steve. I’ll never push him into something he might not want,” was her response every time.

He admired her strength and her devote love for Bucky. To the point where she’d suffer for his well being, yet he couldn’t help but feel bad for her. Even a bit guilty. Guilty over the fact that the soldier remembers him but not her.

After the fifth mission, Steve stopped asking her the questions, already knowing the answers.

A few weeks after that point, Fury had gathered all the Avengers into a briefing room, with a map, James thought looked like a base, projected onto the screen.

“What’s up, Nick?” Tony asked when entering the room.

“Sit your ass down, Stark. I have a mission for all of you,” he explained impatiently.

“All of us? I thought Black Widow and Winter Soldier over here had the missions covered for the rest of the month. We’re supposed to be on a break,” Tony shot back. Already groaning.

“Yes, all of you. This certain mission is more complicated than I thought. Even with their skills, they won’t be able to do this alone,” Nick continued.

“We’re missing Clint and Banner,” Thor added. Nick rolled his eyes.

“Yes, they’re coming in as soon as possible, now I want to give you all the run down, so will you shut your mouths?” he asked.

Nobody responded.

“Thank you,” he sighed, then stepped up towards the map projected onto the screen. He pressed a button to reveal a few new photos of the location. Seemed like a rundown warehouse, large at that. Maybe even a bit larger than their compound. “This is a secret HYDRA base still in full operation. In the wilderness not far from Ostashkov.”

Natasha glanced at James and he seemed to tense up. He probably knew the place, she wouldn’t have been surprised.

“They’re planning something. A mass shipment of weapons had arrived at the base only a few days ago. They have plenty of agents to carry out orders and some of their top officials are located at the spot. It’s the ‘heart and soul’ of HYDRA’s operations at the moment and we have to take it out before they cause any harm,” he explained. Steve nodded intently, then also glanced at James.

James knew the place. He had been trained, put into cryo and tortured there. It was from before the Red Room. He already hated the idea of going back, yet this had to be done.

“What’s the run down?” Steve asked. And Nick just shrugged.

“That’s for you to figure out, Captain. I’m the director of no one, just handing you the information,” he responded.

Steve scoffed, but then began to think up a plan.

***

James was tasked with Natasha to hunt down the highest operatives, as well as gather any information that could lead to other high officials or secret bases.

“You okay?” Natasha asked as they silently trekked through the fallen snow towards the warehouse.

“Sparks a lot of memories,” he sighed. The place had changed a bit, yet still looked practically the same. He shivered, but not from the cold, Natasha noticed.

“I’ve got your back. If you go out or a memory overtakes you, I’m here,” she said assuringly. And the thought did comfort James. He could trust her to have his back.

The two had eventually made their way inside the base. It was oddly quiet, dangerously quiet. Not a person was in sight.

James and Natasha had their rifles ready and loaded, using the scope to asses the area. Heat signatures were everywhere but… there was nobody around, as they could tell. James would’ve preferred if they were already fighting, running into a rain of bullets, so then they would at least know who they’re fighting. But no, just silence.

As they rounded the corned, with his heightened senses, he heard a click. A click of a gun getting turned off of safety. He pulled Natasha behind him, had his own gun loaded, and turned the corner, ready for the ambush of agents lying behind the wall.

The agents were taken by surprise, probably assuming they would be the ones to cause the sneak attack, yet quickly they took action and began firing back. Fifteen or so agents were crowded in the hallway. With six shots from Nat’s gun and nine from James’, every agent in the hallway was dead.

“Let’s go,” Natasha yelled to him, knowing that reinforcements would arrive at any second. No use in being sneaky.

They ran down the hallway, through corridors as alarms blared. They had to get to the main “office”, or room where the important officials were located and their files were kept.

The two encountered a few more agents, but they were taken down quickly with a set of kicks, and punches. Eventually, they found the “office”. An incredibly secure metal door was in front of them, completely locked.

“How’ll we open it?” James asked.

“With this,” Natasha took out a set of black batons. She then adjusted her widow bites meter and pressed a button. The batons pulsed a glowing blue color and she struck it against the door hinges, causing them to break.

Meanwhile James was communicating with Steve through their coms. “Now’s a good time for a distraction, we’re nearly in and you need to draw some agents away.”

“Got it. Tell us once you two are out of the building and then Tony can blow the entire place,” Steve replied.

“Copy that,” James smirked. He liked the idea of this building turning to ashes.

“Door’s unstable. Ready for entry,” Natasha reported, and reloaded her gun while taking cover against the wall.

“Do it,” James nodded.

With a kick, Natasha broke down the door, yet nobody was inside. They scanned the area, making sure it was completely empty, before searching through files. James took out a flash drive while Nat guarded the door. He began to download the files when something caught his eye. Photos were hung along the wall. Photos of old officials, and handlers. Photos of people James recognized instantly. No memories flooded back, yet he was caught in a daze. Caught in such a daze he didn’t hear the sound of bullets ricocheting back and forth. He didn’t hear the sound of sets of footsteps entering the room. And he didn’t hear Natasha calling out his name… asking for backup until…

James turned, just in time to watch a set of bullets pierce her skin. Just in time to watch her fall limply to the floor. Just in time to watch another agent aim his gun at her head. Before James could even react, he took out his gun and shot the intruders. All fourteen of them, five of which had entered the room, the rest were still in the hallway. Only once they were dead, did he return to the “office”.

James kneeled by Natasha’s side and flipper her body over so she was facing him. She was unresponsive, yet he hadn’t jumped to conclusions yet. Before any other agents could enter, he pulled her to the corner, gently, so they wouldn’t be vulnerable in the middle of the room. She looked so different. So lifeless, and fragile. It scared him. Blood was pouring out, onto his hands. Her blood. He couldn’t help the tears that started to fall.

“Na… Nata…” he began, staring at her unconscious form in his lap, when a flash of recognition came over him. A memory overcame him….

...

He watched as a man shot a bullet right through her. Right through her rib cage. She fell to the ground, James caught her. The girl, she looked like a younger version of the Natasha he knew, but…. she… he knew her as Natalia.

“No, Natalia!” he spoke in Russia. First he fired a few shots at the man who had caused this, yet he had gotten away. It was no use chasing the man, instead he had returned to Natalia’s side. “No, my little spider.” He had kissed her. Kissed her temple, kissed her lips.

It was as if the floodgates had opened. A new rush of memories filled his head. Meeting her. Training her. Talking to her. Telling her that he loved her. Kisses, touches, words of trust exchanged. Missions, battles, fights they had to win. Comforting embraces. Promises exchanged in breathtaking kisses. Secret meetings. Solace in her. Light in the darkness. Love. These memories were filled with love. And then… nothing. She was taken from him far too soon, and he had let them.

James snapped out of his daze.

“Nata… Natalia?” he looked down at her in shock. It was her face. The one of the red head in those memories. The one he loved, lying in his lap. Bleeding out. “Natalia.” He whispered in a quiet, shaky voice. He brushed her red hair out of her face. It caused for blood to streak over her cheek. Too much blood, so much blood. She’s dying, she’s bleeding out.

He tapped on his coms. “St..Steve,” he managed to make out, yet his voice was restricted from the sobs. “Steve.”

“Yeah, Buck,” he responded, then spoke again, realizing Bucky’s tone. “What’s wrong?”

“They… I couldn’t… they… she’s down… she’s shot,” he continued. His voice stuttered and shook. He could barely even speak. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing. His heart wouldn’t stop hurting. She was… no, no, no, no. He looked at her wounds, the gaping holes piercing through her suit. “Two shots to her abdomen…. one in her arm, another on her thigh and….” James sucked in a shaky breath. “Two directed near her vital organs.”

“Is she conscious?” Steve asked. James could hear the worry in his voice.

“N..no,” he whispered. His whole body racked with the silent sobs. He intertwined his fingers into hers and held her to his chest. There was a moment of silence, the only sound was of James crying in the corner with an unconscious Natasha in his lap. Her blood was covering his clothes, yet he didn’t care. He only cared for her… how could he let this happen?!
“I’m coming to clear the hallways, Sam has a quinjet ready for you. We’re going to take her back to the compound,” Steve explained.

James didn’t respond, his thoughts were too overpowering. He tried to apply pressure onto the wounds, hoping not too much blood would spill out, yet it was no use. They needed a doctor… fast.

***

It felt like an eternity, the amount of time it took for Steve to get to the “office”, but once he had entered the doorway, did he stop to stare at the scene in front of him. His throat tightened and it felt like he couldn’t breath for a moment. The sight made his heart throb. Natasha unconscious and limp, blood everywhere, James holding her in his lap, him whispering something in Russian. And when he looked up to Steve, the look of total despair and heartache.

“Here…” Steve walked forward, ready to lift Natasha, yet James shook his head.

“I’ve got her. Just cover me.”

Steve nodded as he watched James lift her up and hold her in a bridal carry. For his strong hands and arms, the movement was so gentle. So, so, gentle. Something had changed in James’ expression, yet Steve didn’t question it yet. They didn’t have the time for that.

Instead they ran through the hallways, leaving a trail of crimson red blood behind them.

***

The whole plane ride back to the compound, James didn’t leave Natasha’s side. They wrapped her wounds with some gauze to help stop the bleeding, but it didn’t do much. Within minutes, the once white bandages turned red.

Steve watched the soldier from the co-pilot’s seat while Sam flew the jet.

“I’ve never seen her like this… this injured,” Steve muttered underneath his breath. Sam only nodded, not knowing what to say. He looked back at James who still had his hand holding her own.

The rest of the ride was silent, until they got to the compound.

***

The doctors and nurses knew that an injured agent was arriving, since they had a stretcher ready once the jet had landed. The three nurses entered the jet, and lifted her onto the stretcher. James walked with them, his hand still grasping hers. His finger gripping her pulse point. It had weakened greatly since they had take off from Ostashkov.

Once they had entered the medical lab, a nurse told James that he had to wait in another room, that they would have to preform an emergency procedure if they even had a chance at saving her. Her body was in critical condition.

“I…I can’t leave her… I promised… I can’t leave her,” he protested. The nurse gave him a sad look but continued, trying to pry his hand away.

“We can’t operate with you in the room. You have to stay here,” she explained again.

“No… I can’t… I promised,” his eyes were dazed and bloodshot red form the tears.

“Buck, you can’t go. She’s in safe hands, don’t worry,” Steve pulled his friend out of the room. James let up but still protested.

“Can’t trust doctors, they hurt her. They’ve hurt her…” he repeats, his head in a daze. He remembers the scar, he remembers the operation. The doctors slicing into her, the messy stitches they placed. They took out her ovaries. And she was only 18. Doctors hurt her. Doctors weren’t safe. They’ve injected serums into her, medicines that created torture for her to face. Doctors weren’t safe. “I need to protect her.”

Steve looked at James worriedly, he had never seen his best friend act like this before. “She’s going to be okay.”

James only shook his head and sat in one of the chairs, his head resting in his hands.

o0o

(2 days after the graduation ceremony)

They were sparring, like usual. Yet when James landed a kick to Natalia’s side, she winced back and doubled over in pain. Immediately, he was concerned. The widows were trained to never show pain, Natalia being the only one left was proof that she never did. He walked over to her and kneeled by her side. Something was wrong.

“What is wrong, Natalia?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she stated, looking up at him but not getting up out of her crouched position. He read her eyes. There was pain. Immense pain, followed by a fear that he would punish her for showing it. He shook his head at the thought. Even after gaining a sort of trust with her, the fear Madame B had ingrained into her head stayed put. That “show weakness, get punished” mentality.

“You’re hurt,” he responded instead. “Let me see.”

He made sure to make his words seem soft, gentle, not demanding. Never demanding. She shook her head, looking away.

“Let me see,” he said again. Those same words he had used whenever he checked her wounds.

Natalia relented and revealed her blood soaked shirt. It blended with the dark tank top she was wearing, yet was still noticeable. He carefully lifted the hem to reveal a wide open wound. The fresh stitches ripped.

He knew about this operation. Heard about it through talk and rumors, nobody had ever directly told him. They would cut the reproductive organs out of the girls once they turned 18. It was considered their “graduation”. He should’ve remembered she had went through it only two days before. He would’ve been more careful. It was his fault. She seemed to sense his guilt.

“It’s not your fault. I’ll be fine,” she explained.

“No, you need this to be restitched before it gets infected. You need a doctor,” James shook his head.

“I can’t,” she protested. “They hurt me, they’ll do the same messy stitches. They’ll cut me open again. When I’m under the drugs, I’m no longer in control. They’ll hurt me in more ways than one.”
James knew she was good at masking any trembles in her voice, yet a few had made themselves known when she said the statement. She was scared. Purely scared. ‘Hurt me in more ways than one’, she said? They must’ve done more than just the operation. A new fire burned in his belly. Did they dare to… take advantage…?

“Then I’ll go in there and watch. As your trainer. Make sure they only repair the stitches, nothing more or less,” James responded. “Okay?”

“You promise me? You’ll protect me, you promise?” she asked, her voice still trembled.

“I promise.”

o0o

Now in the waiting room, he felt as if he had broken that promise.