“This is stupid!” Steve groaned as Bucky snatched a pen from the table.
“C’mon Stevie! It won’t hurt ya, it’ll give us all something to look forward too.” The brunette explained, earning an eye roll from Steve.
Bucky had been trying to convince Steve about the pen-pal sign up for his unit. It was some sort of organization where people in tough situations or living conditions could find solace in talking to someone else who would understand. Each person's information however would remain anonymous unless they chose to share it, all that’s given is a name. Steve thought it was dumb, he didn’t need anything from back home. His mom dying a few years back solidified the fact. All he had was Bucky, the pair decided to join the forces together. Along the way he met Sam, T’Challa, and Tony, in such confined spaces and always being together, Steve considered them his newest and dearest friends.
Grunting Steve snatched the pen from his friend and scrawled his name on one of the many lines. Bucky began to slow clap at the effort to which the blonde glared daggers at him.
“Buck you got him to do it?” Sam questioned coming up to write his own name.
“Yep.” Bucky said popping the ‘p’ proudly.
Sam chuckled, and the trio headed back to their bunks.
/
A few weeks gone by and Steve had completely forgotten about the program he signed up for, that is until it was mail call. Steve never cared much for mail day, never receiving a package, so when he got an envelope on his pillow he was surprised to say the least. Picking it up and investigating it, he carefully ripped it open and unfolded the paper. In front of him in neat handwriting he read the following:
Being this is our first letter, I’m unable to give you a proper introduction. Im very reluctant about this entire thing, not sure how talking to someone from god knows where will help me, but given my current situation I’m willing to give it a shot. I don’t want to reveal too much just yet, not if you’re not interested. So for now I’ll tell you something’s I love to do, and not just my sob story. I’m in my mid twenties and my passion is ballet. I’ve made a living teaching young unprivileged and disabled children who may not be able to afford or take basic classes. I run a studio and gain money from various fundraisers, and have a side job as a waitress in order to support myself. I hope you may find this interesting and hopefully I can hear from you in the future, if not I understand.
Best regards,
N.
Steve carefully read the letter and felt himself smile brightly. Something about his new pen-pal made him itch in a good way. Yeah, Steve thought this whole ordeal was stupid at first, but after reading said letter he felt different. The fact that whoever this person was made a living in teaching children with poor lives the arts made him happy. It was admirable, and being a scrawny, sick kid from Brooklyn who loved art, it pulled at his heart strings. Before he could register what was happening he pulled out a piece of paper from his notebook and put his pen to the paper.
Much like you, I am unable to give a proper introduction being we’ve yet to share names. I’ll do the honor, and go first. I’m Steve, and at first I thought this entire letter thing would be pointless. However, though it may sound cheesy, your letter touched my heart. It’s no secret to share but I’m currently enlisted in the United States military and am active Captain of my unit. Over here we don’t hear much things like that, always focused on strategy and getting duties done, things of that nature. However, back home until sometime ago I was a sickly, small kid who loved art. Reading about how you help kids in similar positions to mine made me feel as happy as I’ve been since I’m arrived. For that I’m grateful, and would love nothing more than to receive another letter again.
Best wishes,
Steve.
Neatly folding the paper and shoving it to a nearby envelope. Sealing it tightly, he shuffled to go drop it into the outgoing mail slot labeled Penmanship Program. In order to maintain privacy all the letters are sent to a singular location and from there they are sent to each corresponding participant. Just as Steve had dropped his letter into the slot, he tried hitting a body. The person let out a low chuckle.
“We knew you would give in.” T’Challa smirked to the blonde.
Steve blushed, and quickly walked away.
/
Steve throws down his tray as he sets at the head of the table. Sam is wedged in between Stark and Bucky, and T’Challa is on the corresponding end.
“Stevie!” Stark said excited.
Steve groaned and bit into his apple.
“Let me eat in peace Stark.” Steve said annoyed.
Tony laughed. Steve was sure his mission in life was to piss everyone off.
“So did any of you get letters today?” T’Challa asked trying to ease the tension.
Sam nodded excited.
“I got my pen pal person thing.” He said waving his hands around.
Everyone looked for him to explain.
“I got another soldier named James. He seems nice enough, I’m actually pretty happy to talk to someone outside our unit.” Sam told the group.
They nodded.
“I got some cool scientist named Bruce. Says he’s in remission for some sort of experiment gone rogue. It’s pretty awesome though I love all that science stuff.” Tony said being oddly genuine.
“Nice. I myself got an Australian man named Thor. He just moved to the states and is adjusting to it all and has a poor family relationship, especially with an abusive father and the loss of his mother. With me losing my dad and I can understand adjusting to a foreign place he seems easy to talk too.” T’challa stated.
“What about you Barnes?” T’Challa added.
“Oh I got a chick. Says her names Wanda,” He says suggestively wiggling his brows.
However, moments later he dropped his usual womanizer facade, and spoke earnestly.
“Struggling after the death of her twin brother. Says her homeland was victim to a terrible hurricane that took a lot of lives and she’s just moved to the states since her house got ruined. Working as a nurse.” He finished.
Everyone smiled to Bucky noticing how he had taken a real liking to this woman, rather than just flirting.
Clearing his throat he shifted subjects.
“What about you Stevie?” Bucky questioned.
“Oh well I don’t know their name. Didn’t offer much information in the letter. Just that they had doubts about the process and works as a ballet instructor to kids with financial and physical disadvantages. From some mentions seems like she may be in a rough situation, but I can’t pinpoint what. I’m dying to know, seems like a good person.” Steve says pushing around his peas.
“Mm does Stevie have a catch?” Bucky teases.
“Shut up punk.” The blonde bites out.
“Better be careful man her not telling you sounds like some emotional baggage shit.” Tony commented rudely.
“Stark stop being such an ass.” Steve said annoyed he would talk about someone like that.
All of them had their share of issues, with Tony’s absent parents who are now deceased, and the major surgeries he’s undergone Steve was taken aback he’d say such a thing.
“Whatever man. Don’t say I never wanted ya.” Tony said chewing his chicken.
Sam quickly averted the subject as they all began to talk about other things.
/
All week Steve had been anticipating mail day, awaiting for anything. Praying to know something knew about his partner, maybe even a name or gender. He was pretty sure that his new pal was a woman, just by the look of her writing and he assumed that how they described the passion of ballet, but he knew men could as well. So today he was bouncing his knee up and down, hoping for a letter. When a fellow soldier called out and deemed it was delivery day, Steve sprung upright in his cot, nearly hitting his head on the one above.
It felt like a lifetime as the mail was distributed, until Steve finally got his. He didn’t even have to reach the address stamped on the front and the pen-pal logo to know it was from his mysterious partner. Tearing through the envelope like it was his job, he whipped out the letter as his eyes gazed over the page.
Dear Steve,
First and foremost I would like to thank you for your service to your country. It was a very noble thing to do and I’m sure you’ve made many people proud. Putting your life on the line nearly everyday for the benefit of others is nothing but heroic, and for that you should be proud of yourself. I’m very pleased to hear that you would like to continue writing one another. At first as you know, I was doubtful of this process, a close confidant to mine convinced me to give this a shot, and I’m happy I did. Hearing about how art makes you happy is something I can relate too. Knowing that your serving overseas and may not have access to somethings your missing, please let me know if I can send anything to ease your mind or keep you busy. I myself am very isolated at the moment and have more than enough time to gather whatever you would like. I’m wishing you and your fellow troop the best of safety. I am looking forward to getting to know Steve, a hero.
Sincerely,
Nat.
Steve read the letter as he beamed. The person writing him, who knows revealed herself as Nat, seemed all sorts of amazing. It irked Steve in a way knowing she would going through something, but he hoped he could help. This was only the second letter and Steve himself was feeling better. Reaching for his pen and paper, he began his reply.
Dear Nat,
I’m happy to be able to have a formal and proper introduction during these letters. I would like to thank you for the kind words you shared about me being in the military. It makes my time more worth it knowing I have at least one person back in the states who is proud of me.
I also had similar circumstances in which my best friend Bucky from home convinced me to sign up for this thing. Bucky and I have been friends for as long as I can remember and I know that him knowing I look forward to your letters will learn an ‘I told you so.’ Despite Bucky’s taunts it’s all worth it. I appreciate the care you’ve expressed in wanting to send me a gift, you’re the only letter I’ve received during my time here. My father passed at a young age and my mother passed a few years back. The only person to care enough to write would be Bucky, but instead we joined together. Though how it may sound I’m satisfied with the people and friendships I share. My time here has helped me extend that do many more, and hopefully I can do the same to you. I don’t want you to bother yourself on my account. The best gift you can give is another letter next week. And since we are doing this we may as well start with getting to know a few things about each other. I’ll start with my favorite color: blue. Now it’s your turn to share.
Take care,
Steve.
Sealing the crisp envelope with the paper inside, he hastily dropped it into the nearby slot, before hurrying back to his cot and waiting. That was all he could do now, was wait.
/
Four days passed until he received his next one. He was grateful because it hadn’t been the usual normal week he had to sit around for the mail call. However, this time he didn’t get a single envelope, instead a small package. Opening it up, his eyes lit up at the contents. He pulled out the leather bound sketch pad and the small bundle of charcoal, and below them had been a folded piece of paper. Carefully unfolding it, he smiled, recognizing the writing.
Steve,
I know you said not to send you anything but I couldn’t help myself. I know you may have these supplies with you, but I figured you may like a restock.
I’m very happy you have a friend as dear to you as Bucky and have the privilege of serving alongside him. Bucky sounds much like a friend I have back home. However do to my current situation my number of friends has minimized as well as the list of people I can trust. But that’s a story for another time. I also want to tell you that I’m sure you are doing your parents very proud. I too lost my parents and each day finding myself hoping that I’m doing well for them.
As for my favorite color, I’m going to have to go with black. It’s just always something I’ve been drawn too and despite being so dark and holding a bad name, I find it beautiful. So now that I’ve informed you of something, I guess it’s my turn to ask.
What makes you happy: Ballet.
I hope you hear from you again soon. Stay safe.
Best regards,
Nat.
Steve hastily began his response.
Dear Nat,
I’m so grateful for the generosity you have to send me the package. It made me very happy and is something I could definitely use.
I couldn’t help but overlook the fact that you mentioned in your given situation you don’t have many people you can converse with and trust. I really hope these letters are helping you in some way, I know they are keeping me sane. Also, you’ve mentioned losing your parent, I’m unsure how but as you know I can relate. I don’t remember much of my father, he died when I was only two years old in the service, and I think that’s what always inspired me to join. As for my mother she was a single mom most of my life, and was amazing. Being sick so much it was a god given gift she was a nurse and always took care of me. It breaks my heart to say my mom became sick with cancer, and unlike many times she did for me, I could not nurse her back to health. Following ma’s death I had a growth spurt and began working on myself to become in better condition knowing she would no longer be around. Some months following Bucky and I decided to enlist, and i was more than glad. I felt as if I had to make use of my life and make my parents proud. I find myself enjoying my time here despite stigmas around it. Also I’m am privileged to say that I am able to widen my circle of friends. Of course I have Bucky, but have made friends with a man from DC, a former billionaire, and a foreigner. They’ve been nothing but great during my time here. It’s weird to think why we are all here. It really puts into view that everyone’s running from something, or maybe even toward something. For me I’m not running from home but more running toward achieving something and doing good with my life.
As for something that makes me happy: art, my friends, and these letters.
Next time I hear from you I’d like to here where you’re from (if you don’t mind of course) , for me it’s Brooklyn.
Unfortunately I am being sent on an operation within a days time. If all goes well I should be back in four days, just in time for the next letter. If things take a turn for the worse and you don’t hear from me that is why. I hope to write back soon.
Yours respectfully,
Steve.
After re reading the letter he placed it in the envelope, however he did not seal it. Instead he grabbed the new sketch pad and utensils he received and absently started sketching.
Hours seemed to draw on, but Steve didn’t notice, too engrossed with his work. As more time drew on, Steve observed his work and smiled. From his memory (photographic thank you very much) he managed to draw the back of a ballerina doing an elegant turn. Wiping away a few remnants of the charcoal he signed the bottom corner: s.rogers before writing out I wanted to repay you for the gift and being I don’t have access to a store this was the best I could do, enjoy!
Satisfied with his job, he shoved the drawing into the envelope and sealed it. Rushing to drop it into the slot, he pushed it in along with the others and started back to his bunk.
/
The next four days dragged on. The mission was going well, but slower than anticipated. The sting operation to evacuate a village some miles away was more difficult than anticipated and managed taking six days. He was exhausted from the grueling trip but happy with its success. After taking a shower and washing off any excess dirt and grime he went over to his bunk finding the contents of the mail from days prior. His heart fluttered a bit as he saw the white envelope tucked under his pillow. Pulling it out, he ripped it. His eyes scanned the page as a mesmerized look filled his eyes.
Dear Rogers,
I hope you and your team are safe following the operation and everything went swimmingly. Next, I’d like to thank you for the amazing drawing you sent me. No one had ever given me something so personal and well done. You are truly a talented artist, and a great mean Steve. Also it was a plus to learn your last name from it.
Thank you as well for trusting me as much to share your experiences from some years ago. Everything that happened with your parents and such is something I understand. Therefor I’m not going to say I’m sorry, knowing it has ample effect. But instead I want to let you know both your mother and father are extremely proud of the work you’ve done for your country. As well as the amazing talents you hold with art. I hope you can smile knowing that all this is true, and your mother and father are probably beaming with pride from above.
What you said in your previous letter about us all running from or toward something hit home. I've been living my life in fear for some time, actively running from the monsters lurking around me and that put it in perspective. Like you I too am trying to stand tall in the face of adversities. I’m happy you are able to set goals and strive toward them, soon I hope to be doing the same and sharing with you.
To answer your question about where I’m from, I originally lived in Russia. I have been there most my life until very recently I was relocated somewhere out of my motherland. It is very odd being where I am now but hopefully can make myself content here.
For our next question, physical features. I like to put a (somewhat) face to a name.
Yours truly,
Natasha.
Steve read the letter carefully. Natasha had been very vague about her situation but collecting evidence, it seemed as if she were hiding or running from someone or something. That made him like her all that much more, wanting to protect her from whatever evils. It was a strange feeling having deep affections for a woman you’ve only conversed with through ink. It isn’t like he couldn’t pick up his smart phone and text her, it is the twenty first century. However he didn’t have the privilege and either way he likes the letters. They are more meaningful, almost intimate.
Steve wrote out a detailed reply concerning his mission without revealing any disclosed information. He also slipped in a photo of him and Bucky outside of base. Steve was in his uniform as his beard was full, and blonde hair flowing in the wind. He and Bucky were smiling as the dog of their unit jumped happily, and clung to Bucky’s legs. He sent it to Natasha, and wrote ‘A picture is worth a thousand words’.
/
Weeks drew on and Steve and Natasha grew closer. Following him sending the photo she even called him handsome, and he blushed. However, Natasha still revealed little about herself, usually offering solace to Steve’s situation. He was going to mention how he could help her with whatever too, but was petrified he may scare her away so refrained from the fact, for now.
Two months into the pairs exchange, Steve had received good news. They were now allowing one phone call per week for each soldier to home. Steve didn’t have anyone he could particlaury call, but there was one person he wanted to call.
Boldly, he wrote in his next letter explaining the situation, and jotted down the number and the time slot he filled. Saying that she would call if she wanted, he would be waiting.
/
When Monday rolled around and he still didn't get a reply from Natasha about the call he was a bit nervous. He knew he was working himself up being her letters usually came on Tuesdays with how the delivery system worked, but still.
At 7:18 Steve paced around the area with the phone, eagerly awaiting for it to ring. As his time came to an end, he gave up, accepting that maybe he had pushed it too far. Just as the soldier was walking away with his head hanging low, the phone attached to the wall rung loudly. Racing to the line, he picked it up without hesitation.
“Hello,” he began nervously.
He got no reply, just static into his ear.
“This is Steve, Steve Rogers.” He declared clearing his throat.
Another moment drew on and Steve figured connection was lost, so just as he was to place the phone down, he heard a voice. The voice of a god damn angel .
“Steve?” It meekly said.
They had never met, hell Steve had no idea what she even looked like, but he just knew it was her.
“Natasha?” He questioned, not believing what was happening himself.
“Yeah it's me.” She replied, and he could practically hear her smiling.
“Sorry it took me a bit to find a secure line.” She apologized.
Steve raised his eyebrows at the statement, but decided not to question further.
“That’s alright, I’m glad you called.” He said thankfully.
“Me too.” She softly responded.
The two fell into comfortable conversation about what he was up to and a few childhood stories. It was so natural, and Steve could here the genuinity in her tone. After an hours time, he hung up (only because it was the next soldier’s turn).
Steve and Natasha now started not only writing letters once a week, but talking on the phone two times in the seven day period. He enjoyed her laugh and conversations with her, it had been so easy to talk to her, it was unlike anything else.
/
Four months after initially talking, Steve was falling in love with this woman. Sure they never met, sure he didn’t know what she looked like, and sure he didn’t know what she was going through. But none of it mattered. None of it ever will. To him Natasha Romanoff (yes she sraed her last name) is the most beautiful and pure soul he thinks to walk the planet. Steve practically worshipped her and blushed whenever anyone else would tease him about their relationship.
Steve could not wipe the smile off his face as he just told Natasha he is going on a covert operation and she told him to be safe and come back to her with an unbelievable amount of sincerity. So as him and his colleagues bordered the plane, it was only natural they teased him.
“What's got cao so giddy?” Sam asked laughing.
“Natty.” Bucky said playfully. ‘
“Would ya stop?” Steve said hitting him in the chest.
Bucky feigned being hurt and laughed to his friend.
“Whatever man, your in deep.” He stated.
The blonde again rolled his eyes, as Stars hooted and hollered.
“Suit up, touch down in ten/” Steve said heading to the back of the aircraft.
/
It was supposed to be easy. Piece of cake. Infiltrate the enemy terrorist cell, capture anyone in sight running the operation, return to base. However, no one anticipated the events. No one anticipated that upon entering bullets would fly instantly, grazing Steve. No one would anticipate the explosion that occurred. No one, absolutely no one, could anticipate the loss of James Barnes arm.
When Steve woke up in the small hospital stationed in god knows where, his first thought was pain. The pain in his shoulder, observing it he had a bullet graze. And from his throbbing head a concussion. Limply turning, he saw it. Bucky lying next to him, hooked up to an IV as his arm was virtually gone. He shut his eyes, unable to face the harsh reality, as doctors ran up to him.
“Captain remain calm.” One man probed.
Steve couldn’t.
“Bucky? Is Bucky?” he asked in tears.
“Mr.Barnes had severe damage to his limb from the explosion, we had to remove it for his healths best interest. He has woken up numerous times and is aware, however you have been out for some days due to a concussion.” The doctor explained.
Steve choked on a sob.
“Phone.” He managed.
The doctor looked at him puzzled.
“Do you have a phone?” He tried tears slipping down his face.
“Right in that room Captain.” The man pointed.
“But please stay in bed.” He claimed.
However, Steve was already moving as fast as his legs could take him to the room.
Picking up the phone with shaky hands, he dialed the number he had come to memorize. He did not even know what time it was here, or where she was. Or if she was even awake. But, when the line clicked he felt like his prayer was answered.
“Hello?” She said a bit vicious.
He remembered she did not know this number.
“Nat.” He groggily said.
“Steve.” She softly replied relieved.
He let out a cry.
“Steve?” She questioned worried.
“I couldn’t do it Nat, I couldn’t save them, I couldn't save him…” He cried into the phone.
Natasha softly hushed him and kept telling him it was going to be okay as he continued to cry to her.
An eternity later, his wails subsided as he heard Natasha clearly say she was here for him, and he was okay. And as Bucky shuffled into the room with tired eyes and a cloth around his stump of his arm, making sympathetic eyes to Steve, he knew for a moment it may be okay.
/
Steve, Bucky, Sam, Tony, and T’Challa, all inhured to an extent returned to the bunker weeks later. Steve of course had been in touch with Nat as he and the group coped as a whole. Bucky lost his arm, Tony had suffered sharpnel to his heart, Sam tore a few muscles in his legs, T’Challa had a bullet lodged into his stomach, and Steve was left with a broken arm, a bullet graze, and concussion. They all returned to base, but they weren’t staying. They all had been discharged of services for these reasons, and Steve was kind of happy to go home. There he knew he could find Bucky the best doctors, and it was better to heal.
As Steve stuffed the few items he had into a box, the last thing he did was pull out a piece of paper and pen.
Dear Nat,
As you know we have all been suffering tremendously the past couple of weeks. For that reason we have been let go from the unit and sent home on leave indefinitely. This is actually for the best, we all need time to recover in a normal functioning place than shacked up in this small bunker. There I will be seeing it as my personal mission to get Bucky the care he needs, as well as the rest of us affected by this tragedy. I understand that my being in the military is what got us together in the first place, so I hope my departure won’t ruin that. Below I am going to leave my address so we can continue staying in touch. During my time here you have helped me more than anyone I have ever met, and more than you will ever know. Call me selfish, but I think I’m going to need your support from here on out as well. If I never hear from you again which will be the worst case scenario, I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me. For being my support and person I could go to during this entire endeavor. You have helped me in ways I can't put in words, but I can try to. So if you’d let me, here is my address.
Apartment C, 1501 Avenue V, Brooklyn, New York, 1121.
Thank you again,
Steve.
Hoping for the best, he slipped the letter into the mailbox, grabbed his things, and hoped for the best.
/
Stepping back into the city was weird. However it was better with Bucky, T’Challa, Tony, and Sam by his side. They all decided to stick together in the wake of things. As they entered the apartment, they saw dust piled everywhere, but everything how they left it. However, the envelope sticking up on the mat when you first step inside did not go unnoticed by his friends.
“Ah Stevie mail? Wonder how that is…” Bucky faked.
“Finally gonna grow balls and tell her how you feel?” Tony asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Not something I wanna do in writing, plus she could be thousands of miles away.” Steve said pretending to be okay with the fact.
They could all hear the sadness evident in their friends voice, and decided to lay off. They all simply nodded their heads and scattered to their rooms.
/
A few days went on. Steve and the gang had taken Bucky to a local neurosurgeon, Stephen Strange.He seemed to be a huge success and was very interested in helping Bucky. Along with the resources and technological skills Tony had, things may be alright for him in the future. However, the day had been particularly long, full of testing, and waiting. Unlocking the door to the loft for the four others, had been one of the most satisfying things he had done all day. As Steve pushed open the door, letting his roomates walk in first, he saw Sam bend down and pick something up.
“What you got there?”m Tony said being nosy, as Bucky plopped on the couch.
“Ah.” Tony grinned, looking to Steve.
“It's for you cap.” Sam said pushing the envelope into his hands.
For the first time in days, Steve smiled brightly, recognizing the handwriting.
Mumbling a thanks, he staggered to his bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed he eagerly opened the letter.
Steve,
First and most important, I want you to know how incredibly proud I am of you and your achievements in the military. Becoming captain takes bravery and resilience, which you possess intently. I hope nothing more that you and your comrades can heal comfortably back at home and until a peace in all your lives. I don't think you selfish to want support from me. I know I may not reveal my feelings much, but I can admit that you have put me on a path for the better since we started talking. So yes, I would love to continue writing you. However, for reasons that should go unsaid, I cannot give out my address. Here is the address to a post office I have access to: United Postal Service, 421 8th Avenue.
Hopefully I will hear from you soon.
Greatly appreciated,
Nat.
Steve was happy to receive the letter, and even more content to hear that Nat wants to keep talking to him. However, he could not help to be concerned for the whereabouts and how she couldn't reveal her location for safety reasons. But, then it dawned on Steve. Natasha gave him an address to a New York Post office, just a few clock from him. Natasha was closer than he thought and now all he wanted to do as wild enough trust to meet her.
/
Two months passed by and Steve and Natasha had started talking on the phone again, as well as continuing the letters. However neither brought up the small distance they shared even though Steve had wanted too. From what Steve had gathered Natasha was running? Hiding? From someone who must be dangerous and for that reason could not meet him or tell him where she is. She never out right said this, but Steve got this sense from cryptic comments.
As for Bucky, the past two months were grueling, but he now successfully got the best bionic arm science could offer and was adjusting well. Needless to say, things were looking up. That is until Steves most previous conversation with Natasha…
She giggled through the phone as he told her he burned his foot after trying to make a grilled cheese. His heart warmed at the sound and before he could help himself, he said,
“You should laugh more.”
Her laughing came to halt.
“Huh?” she squeaked.
“You’re laughs beautiful Nat, you're beautiful.” He finished.
Silence echoed through the device.
“Steve, you don’t even know what I look like.” She reminded.
He huffed a breath.
“It doesn’t matter Nat. I know you, and I like you for you, it doesn't matter. To me your beautiful, and I’d like to meet you. Take you out.” he said a bit nervously.
“Steve I-” She began softly.
Nat was abruptly cut off by a bang of what sounded like a door in the back.
Without another word, the line went dead.
Steve stared at his phone as tears pricked his eyes. Thoughts ran rapid. He just told her he wanted to meet and the line cut off. Did she hang up? Was the bang something bad? Was she okay? Unable to handle these thought, he would ease his mind by calling back and asking. As he dialed the number, it barely rang as it went to voicemail. Now he was nervous.
Calm down Steve, her phone probably died.
He coaxed himself.
Sucking in a breath, he laid back onto his bed, knowing he would get his letter tomorrow.
/
When Steve woke up and looked for his letter, it was not there. He waited all day, and it never came.
The next day, it still hadn’t. The next week, and still nothing. Two weeks had gone by and Steve had wrote her multiple letters pleading for a reply, and called so much he ran out of minutes. Not able to take the pain of not knowing, he decided to head off to the post office and see if her mail was there. If it was still in the slot, something must have been wrong. If his letters were gone than she must not feel the same way about wanting to finally explore something.
/
The walk to the post office was grueling and long, like the fate rested in that buildings walls. Because, essentially it did. Pushing open the heavy doors he went to the cubbies to locate hers, which he knew was slot nine hundred and eight. Scanning the shelves, he found it quickly. He saw a letter lying in the slot, however it wasn't all of them. Just his most recent. Closing his eyes shut as the realization hit. She had been getting his letters and choose to ignore him, so she must not like him like that.
He stood in front of the area for god knows how long until a man shoved passed him.
“Excuse me.” He grumbled, wearing all black.
Steve stepped aside, and was shocked at what he saw.
The african american man with an eyepatch across his face, reached into slot nine hundred and eight. Natasha’s slot. The man was walking away quickly, and Steve scolded himself for his mind to register with his body. He moved his feet swiftly as he followed the man a few blocks, curious to see where he is going.
Some blocks later, the man turned into an alley and Steve followed. However, as Steve rounded the corner he noticed the man wasn;t insight. Until he felt a strong pair of arms push him against the brick wall.
“What business do you have following me?” The man scowled.
Steve began stuttering.
“The mail.” He managed.
The man looked at the envelope in his hand and rolled his good eye.
“I’m gonna ask again, who are you!” he yelled jerking Steve.
“Steve! Steve Rogers!” he said scared as his hand reached into his pocket to show his military ID.
“Rogers?” The man questioned, letting go of his collar.
“Uh yeah.” Steve said scratching the back of his neck.
Steve continued looking at the man puzzled, as it looked as if the older gentleman was coming to a realization.
“Im Nick Fury. Come with me.” The man said walking away briskly.
Steve jogged ahead to catch up.
“Why do you have my letter?” He finally asked.
Nick stopped and turned to him.
“Let me rephrase. I’m agent Nick Fury, agent of the FBI. I have been Natasha Romanoff’s handler the past few months as she was in witness protection.” He finished professionally as he flashed identification.
Steve's face hardened. He figured Natasha was just scared of something, not in literal hiding with government protection.
“Captain Rogers, I’m afraid I have bad news. Eleven days ago Nat was fatally injured and since has not woken.” Fury said more remorseful.
He had in fact been with Natasha, living with her for months. They developed a sort of father daughter relationship, and knowing he would not have saved her, eats him up.
Steve's eyes grew glassy, as tears were threatening to spill his eyes.
“If you’ll come with me, I can take you to her.” He finished.
Steve nodded weakly and followed the man to a black escalade, where he hopped into the passengers side.
/
The ride to the hospital was long and agonizing. Steve could not help but press his face against the window and wallow. He wished he could have gotten to her, done something. Words she once wrote taunted him in his head, ‘Steve, a hero’. A hero who failed the one person who mattered most.
/
Fury pulled his spot into some sort of designated area, unclicked his seatbelt and hurried through the doors. The super soldier followed close behind. After walking down the labyrinth of lengthy halls they arrived to a room with the door shut. Steve tentatively wrapped his fingers around the knob as he turned it Nick for permission. As Fury nodded surely, he pushed the door open. There she was. An oxygen mask encasing her as wires and machines ran rampant around her. Though Steve was crushed by her state he could not ignore her beauty. Her red hair, pert nose, porcelain skin, and what he could make of her slender frame. He was more gorgeous than his mind could comprehend. He inched closer to the bed, and gently placed a hand on her what seemed to be bruised forehead.
“What happened?” he asked breathless, his eyes never leaving her body.
“I’ve been with Natasha for sometime now. A little less than a year, but I’ve been overseeing her case for more than that.” He explained.
“Her name isn't Natasha. At least it wasn't always.” He said cryptically.
To this Steve finally turned his head and sat in the plastic chair next to the bed, as he grabbed her cold hand.
“Natalia Alianovna Romanova.” Nick said with a proud smile.
“Little ballerina from Russia, that's who she was met to be.” He said sadness in his voice as he continued.
“But that's not how it worked.” Steve implied, knowing the answer.
“No it isn’t.” He assured.
“Nat was on track to do big things, she was a prima ballerina. She was a big deal and was going to be the success story of her small town. That is until she met Alexi.”
“Alexi?” Steve questioned.
“Alexi Shostakov. He and Nat had met when she was eighteen. However, she wasn't attending school instead was homeschooled and breathed dance. Alexi cleaned the studios for some extra pocket cash at the end of the night, he was nineteen. Basically Natasha had been closed off to people and building relationships being her life was devoted to dancing, they only people she trusted and loved were her parents. At the time Shostakov was a breath of fresh air for her.” Fury said as he pulled out a folder from a bag on the floor.
Flipping open the file, he handed Steve a picture of a young Natasha in her tutu and leotard, and he smiled wide. However, the next picture he had not been too fond of, because it was a man who he presumed was Alexi posing for a mug shot.
“Natasha being Natasha did not let him get to her, not at first. Instead he pined after her for two years and sometime when she turned twenty she finally laid out her feelings and they became something more. From my understanding the first year of their relationship was nothing special, simple, easy. Two months after Natasha turned twenty one, someone called in a domestic disturbance to the Romanov residence. When the authorities investigated they had found a scared Natasha huddled on the front lawn as he yelled at her. And when the police came to assess the scene he kicked over the mailbox and got arrested for defacing public property.” Fury said pointing to the mugshot again.
“Alexi was angry that Natasha had been spending her time at the studio and not with him. But Natasha sacrificed everything for it. She gave up her education and still lived with her parents because she didn't have a proper job to pay for her own place. However everyone in the town was rooting for her to make it big, to get out.”
“Everyone but Alexi.” Steve noted.
“Right,” Fury confirmed.
“After the incident things only got worse. He started beating her, yelling at her, but he always said that if she told anyone what he did he would make her life a living hell. With that she stopped going to the studio as much, causing a riff with her parents who thought she was throwing her life away for a boy. Noah's knew this was true to an extent but Shostakov was crazy and she knew giving up information would hurt someone.” He said pausing to take a breath.
“One day he beat her pretty bad, hurt her leg, she tried to dance on it, and broke it. They took her to the hospital, and when they asked her what happened she wasn't able to take it anymore, and told them everything. The authorities knew they needed to take action, but a friend of Alexi’s, Ivan, who was on the force warned him first. With this information in mind Alexi did unspeakable crimes, labeling him a psychopath.” Fury finished.
There was a pause for sometime.
“WHat did he do?” Steve questioned after sometime.
“Set her house on fire. Her parents with it. Look, in my day I’ve seen a lot of things but Alexi is by far the most fucked.”
“Well they got him after right?” Steve asked hopeful.
WIth a dark chuckle, he shook his head no.
“He ran. Natasha was crushed by the news and was trying to recover when she started getting notes. Notes for him about the things he wanted to do to her, that if she disobeyed again he would kill her. Onenote described how he wanted to propose to her, and the next would talk about how he wanted to slit her throat, his mind was all over the place. WIth the notes they decided it was bets to relocate Nat into witness protection. That's when they contacted us, and we took her out here to New York, where Natalia Alianovna Romanova became Natasha Aliana Romanoff.”
“Of you moved her here to keep her safe, then how did this happen?” He spat.
“Things were okay the first few months, she hadn’t gotten notes and was recoverign with her leg. She walked with a nasty limp, but other than that she was lowkey. SHe barely left the house only ever did once or twice in a month. The only thing that kept her sane was those letters. I mean she begged me for weeks to let her use a phone.” He laughed.
A smile ghosted Steve’s lips.
“Alexi got involved in dealing drugs to make money on the run. Became close with a guy named Rumlow, and Rumlow had heard the constant stories and saw photos of Natasha avia ALexi. So when Nat went out into the city one day to buy some clothes, he saw her and told Shostakov. He actually wasn’t that far, hiding out in Ohio. But he found Natasha, and snuck up on her while I was out. Shot her eight times, I walked in on him crying over her body trying to comprehend what he had done to her. I arrested him on the spot, son of a bitch will never walk as a free man ever again.” Fury said angrily.
“As for Natasha, I just need her to get out of this alive.” Nick finished sympathetically.
“Me too.” Steve added lowly.
/
After that Nick and Stev sat in silence as they watched the dull sight of Natasha’s chest struggling to rise and fall. AN hour in a knock sounded. A man walked in with messy blonde hair and tired eyes.
“He was just detained, they’re sending him off soon.” The man said to Fury not noticing Steve presence.
Nick nodded.
“Barton this is-” Fury began as Clint turned.
“Captain Steve Rogers.”Clint finished.
“You know me?” Steve asked confused.
“Sure do. I’m detective Clint Barton, hadda look into your record to make sure you weren’t bad news when you started talking to Nat.” He said unapologetically.
Steve blushed a bit and nodded.
“She will be happy your here, I mean those letters were like a god sent for her. SHe didn't decorate her walls, unpack her suitcases, none of that. But she had every single letter of yours stacked in her night stand drawer at the safe house. Hell we even put them here.” Clint said going to pull out a drawer.
Then Steve saw it the thick stack of aged, crumpled papers resting in the wood. She cared.
She actually cared.
Smiling to himself, he squeezed her hand and started wondering what color her eyes must be… /
Fury got a call around midnight he was needed down at the station for some business. Excusing himself he left the room. Once the door shut leaving Steve and Barton alone, Clint spoke.
“She's scared of you.” The declared.
“Me?” The soldier asked.
“Yeah, scared of how you make her feel. Scared you’ll fuck her over.” Clint explained.
“I would never do that to her. I mean it's crazy but I think I love her.” He said sheepishly.
“It's not crazy.” Clint assured.
“It’s not?” Steve asked.
“No, not when she loves you too.” Clint smiled lightly.
He saw Steve mouth drop as he took in the words.
“Hey I’ll leave you some time alone to be with her. I’ll be right outside.” Barton said stepping out
/
Within the next three hours Clint would pop his head in ten minutes before each hours passed. Despite the circumstances Steve felt warm knowing she was so close, but it stung she couldn't fully be there for it. Natasha had gotten shot eight times mostly in her already limp leg, as well as her abdomen piercing an organ. She was also concussed and her wrist had been fractured. The lack of blood in her body had been what was keeping her asleep for so long as well as the combination of drugs, according to the doctors.
Steve liked believe she could hear him so he had gone through the hours telling her all sorts of stories. As Steve was concluding his tale about how he and Bucky had once gone to Coney Island for the day, he sighed heavily.
He looked over Natasha's seemingly still body, as his vision blurred. Stroking her hand with both his, he tried to smile.
“Hey Nat, I’ve been wanting to meet you for sometime, since we started talking. You saved me. It is killing me that I couldn't help you, so please wake up and let me make it up to you.” He pleaded as he placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles.
Lowering their intertwined hands back to the bed he felt a small squeeze. At first he thought his mind had been alluding him, that he was sleep deprived and stressed. Until he felt it again, this time stronger.
Staring at her face in disbelief, her eyes fluttered open. She let out a soft groan as her vision unclouded. It took her a moment to register where she was. Steves heart broke a bit thinking that to her she probably would deem him a stranger. But, as her eyes bored into his own, she spoke with a raspy voice.
“Steve?” She asked hopeful, recognizing him from the photos.
“Green.” Was all he could manage.
“Huh?”
“Your eyes are the most gorgeous shade of green I’ve ever seen.” He said fascinated, and infatuated with her.
She blushed ever so slightly.
“You’re here,” She started, “You’re actually here.”
She was crying at this point.
“I’m here and I’m not leaving.” He assured kissing her forehead as she lulled back to sleep.
/
The weeks following Steve visited her everyday. And seeing Natasha in person had only made him fall in love with her more. However, when the doctor deemed her well enough to operate on crutches she came to the realization she had nowhere to stay. That is until Steve offered and Clint and Fury approved despite her reluctance, not wanting to interfere.
So as Steve had carried her small duffle bag and aided her through his front door, he couldn't help but smile knowing she was here. As he threw the door open, he found a crowd on the couch.
“Stevie!” Bucky yelped.
“Ah she’s here.” Tony stated.
Steve rolled his eyes.
“Nat these are my roommates, Bucky, Sam, T’Challa, and Tony. Guys, this is Natasha.” He said introducing them.
Natasha shifted awkwardly on the crutches as they all started.
“Trust me we’ve heard all about you Natasha.” Tony winked.
Steve groaned and helped maneuver Nat to his room.
/
Steve got her settled into his room, and made dinner. They all ate dinner together, but Natasha was tired from the activity and excluded herself early to her room. Sometime following everyone turned in for the night as Steve made a makeshift bed form the couch. Before he finally lay to test he wanted to make sure Nat was okay. He softly knocked on the door and she called ‘come in’. He stepped through to find her sitting up in the bed looking down at her casted leg in a sweatshirt and shorts.
“Hey, wanted to make everything was okay.” He told her.
She nodded curtly, but he wasn’t convinced. Not wanting to push he offered a tight lipped smile and turned to leave.
“Wait.” He heard so low he barely caught it.
He turned, his baby blues swimming in her emerald eyes.
“Stay. Just for a bit?” She asked seeming so small he couldn’t say no, not that he would have.
He walked out the bed and sat next to her.
They sat in silence for sometime, until she said something.
“Thank you.” She said sincerely.
“Why are you thanking me?” He said confused.
“For being there for me. Letting me stay here. Accepting me. Even the messed up parts.” She said sadly.
“Nat, you’re amazing to me, I would do anything for you. I should be thanking you.” He stated.
“Why?” She questioned as she met his eyes again.
“For getting me through the toughest point of my life. For making me want to come home, to live. To give me the pleasure of knowing what being in love is like.” He said sure of himself.
He mouth fell agape, but no words.
“Look you don’t have to say anything.” He said shaking his head.
She remained silent.
“Lay here with me.” She offered after sometime.
He laid back and she did the same. Their noses brushed and breaths mingled in close proximity. As they laid face to face drinking on another in, she said something. Something he wasn’t expecting.
“I love you Steve. And I'm terrified. Terrified I’ll get hurt again.” She explained.
He shook his head.
“There are two things I never do. I don’t lie, and always protect the people I love. Lucky for you may be in the right business.” He joked.
She let out a nervous chuckle and he sensed he uneasiness.
“I’ll never hurt you. All I want to do in fact is show you what real love is, makeup for everything.”
“You don’t have to do that.” She stated.
“Maybe so, but I will, because I love you.” The soldier proclaimed.
“I love you too.” She replied more sure of herself.
He closed his eyes and leaned in. When their lips locked it was like lightning igniting a fire. It was so electric, so passionate.
After the fact he fell asleep in one another's arms.
/
Months following Steve and Natasha began formally dating. They took it slow, Natasha was still healing from her previous experience and Steve respected the fact. However, after a year of bliss with one another Steve proposed to her spontaneously one night laying together. Natasha of course accepted. Because the love the two shared had saved the, and made them better. It was nothing but sincere.