"I went to the enlistment center today," Steve tells her.

Natasha frowns, concern furrowing her brow.

"Don't worry," Steve chuckles, "they basically laughed me out of there. First they claimed I wasn't even 15… then they said they wouldn't take me even if I was."

"Well I guess we'll just have to find another way, then." Natasha nods, fire in her eyes.

"I mean if they won't even let me into the building anymore, how'm I gonna—“

Natasha takes great joy watching Steve run face first into realizing what she’d just said.

"Wait. We?"

"You didn't think you'd get away from me that easy, did you?"

Steve laughs, shaking his whole frail body. It's a laugh Natasha's heard less and less of since the war started. She does her best to commit it to memory.

"I still don't see how we're going to enlist. Neither of us are going to pass the health exam."

Natasha rolls her eyes, "Soldiers aren't the only ones needed to win a war."

"Is this another 'Steve, stop being such a meat-headed man' moment?"

"You said it, not me." Natasha smiles innocently at him.

She leads them to a part of the city he’s never been to before and into a building he would have never thought the public was allowed into.

"My friend and I want to help in the war." Natasha declares once they've gotten to the recruiting desk.

The recruiter gives them each a long, probing look. "On the front or off?"

Natasha and Steve share a glance.

"On." they say at the same time.

"Shame. I have a feeling you'd do some good work behind the front lines.” the recruiter says with a lingering look at Natasha, “Here, the medical division is always shorthanded. Hope you're fast learners."

They take the papers held out to them by the recruiter. Steve holds his with slightly trembling hands.

"Natasha can't believe her eyes when none other than Steve Rogers is the famous, nazi-punching, revue singing Captain America himself.

"You're huge now!" she says when she convinces the dancers guarding his dressing room that she's the 'girl' Steve keeps talking about.

She thinks she hears them cooing appreciatively when Steve picks her up and swings her around the moment he sees her.

"Alright!" she laughs, "Hey, I don't know if this is going to work for me if you insist on crushing me."

"Sorry! Uh, still getting used to all of this."

And that bashful reluctance is all Steve. Her Steve.

"So that scientist was a mad scientist after all, huh." Nat circles Steve, assessing the rather extreme transformation his body has gone through.

The spandex outfit is… interesting. It seems absolutely useless in a real fight, except to maybe blind any opponents. And that's a real long shot.

"Yeah. Crazy story. He used me as a test subject to see how his 'super soldier serum' would work on 'real' soldiers and then the nazis showed up and—”

"You're pulling my leg."

"All true. Although I think Peggy is the only one who survived who'd vouch for me. You two'd get on like a house on fire, by the way. Only person I've seen with a meaner right hook than you."

Natasha grins at him sidelong.

"Whoah, wait nononono—”

"Oh. Yes. You love a woman who can punch harder than you. Do you need a wing man? I know how useless you are at talking to girls you like."

"Natasha…"

"Don't 'Natasha' me. C'mon, let's go. She's here, right?"

"That's— we can't. I mean, I have a plan. And also we can't right now, anyway."

 Natasha raises an eyebrow to say 'Oh really? Why?'

"I’ve got a mission tonight. A big one. We could possibly end the war."

"That sounds important but I fail to see how this would keep you from seeing the girl you're sweet on before you leave."

"Peggy works for British Intelligence. She's preparing."

Natasha makes a silent 'oh' with her mouth.

"She promised we’d have a dance at the V-day celebration when I get back. When we both do."

Natasha blinks at him, then nods once, decisively. "Well then I'm coming with you." Steve opens his mouth to protest but Natasha keeps going, "You already said the best right hook isn't coming with you. So you'll have to take the second best instead. And give me a chance to reclaim my title."

Steve sighs. "Alright. It's not like I can talk you out of anything once you've decided, anyway."

"Hell yes." Natasha grins victoriously. "Now where're we off to?"

Punching nazis, Natasha learns, is infinitely more rewarding than punching all of the school age bullies in their old neighborhood. She thinks it's the dawning horror in their eyes as they realize she's not some lost or fawning waif and also they're in a lot of fucking trouble for not taking her seriously sooner.

So that's what she thinks of when she's hanging off the back of the train. She can see Steve yelling something but she can't hear it over the rushing wind and pounding blood in her ears.

Then her arm gives out. In that… it's not there anymore, suddenly. Even through the cold and the adrenaline, the pain rips through her whole body.

But she doesn't think about it too much. She won't have to worry about it considering the long drop to certain death she's currently engaged in.

She squeezes her eyes closed so instead of seeing the pain and horror etched on Steve's face, she sees the pain and horror she put on a nazi's face as she'd kicked him soundly in the balls.

When she wakes up, she knows she shouldn't be here. Wherever "here" is.

She jolts. And discovers heavy restraints holding her to whatever surface she's strapped to.

A man is whispering something sickly sweet in her ear that she can't understand and is fairly confident she never wants to.

There's something wrong with her arm... It's heavy. Like it's been asleep for too long. She can move it but all the effort is in her shoulder and— 

Every time she wakes up, she's so cold. Even with all the blood she's bathed herself in.

But when she sleeps, all she dreams of is horror-struck blue eyes and a face that rapidly slips from her mind's eye, as if it's being erased in real time.

She much prefers the cold.

James doesn't quite understand why he can't see his parents anymore. He doesn't cry because his мама told him he had to be a brave boy for her.

But his eyes still ache from keeping the tears inside.

All the other children here are girls, which the grown-ups say is lucky for him- he's special now- but at night they all descend on him like flies.

When they're young it's all hair pulling and bruises.

When they're older and James is larger than most of them, it's emotional blows. Those scars are easier to hide but so much harder to heal.

"Your training progresses well. So well, we require outside help."

There's movement in the cold shadows and suddenly there's a woman there. Her hair is a red befit for a Black Widow. Her arm is exposed with a metallic gleam, and her eyes are a dark smudge.

A hushed whisper ripples through the other girls, cold as the look in this strange woman's eyes.

"You'll be reporting to the Winter Soldier for the rest of your training."

When the icy gaze of the Soldier turns to them, they instinctively straighten to attention. She waits several long deep breaths before moving. James is getting the sense that the Soldier works on a different time scale than they're used to. They're taught to be vipers: circling and striking and always moving. She's slow and steady like an iceberg. Patient and eroding everything around her.

"You will show me how you fight. Then I will teach you how to use your size as an advantage," she finally says, only after their muscles begin to tremble from standing still for so long.

It's a relief to subject himself to the knife-sharp grin of his sparring partner. She gets him to tap out once, but he wins the other two bouts.

"Enough.”

The sparring pairs separate immediately. The Soldier takes a moment to survey all of them before she picks out James. But for once, in her flat gaze, he doesn't feel any less than the other girls. He feels… useful.

"These are the basic takedowns. Have them memorized by tomorrow."

She then wraps her thighs around his neck and throws him to the ground using her body weight as a fulcrum, knocking all of the breath out of him. None of the other Widows had managed to down him so thoroughly in… years.

Then she does it 15 more times, all reckless uses of her entire mass against him.

When they leave the training room that day, he can't breathe properly the rest of the night. When he goes to the infirmary, they tell him he's fine. Which is even more concerning.

The next day she tests all of them. Using him, of course. Only about half of them succeed and none without notes from the Soldier. They get more homework and more notes and he continues to be a training dummy for them. The girls grow bolder again, as they learn more and more ways to overcome his size advantage.

This goes on for weeks, even spilling into their lessons. Then it's a few more weeks until the Soldier seems to notice anything is going on.

"James. Stay. Everyone else: dismissed."

It's the first time she gives any indication she knows any of their names, let alone his.

"Your handlers… told me to disregard your progress in favor of the other Widows'," she starts.

James wilts. It's too hard to keep up the perfect dancer posture after spending all day being physically thrown. And now emotionally, as well.

"I… remember what it's like to be underestimated. So I want to train you, too. To help you to prove them wrong."

"You… want to help? Me?"

James is floundering. This is the most he'd heard the Soldier talk. And the thought that she’s invested enough in him to want to help is making him dizzy again, like the first day, when he’d spent more time on the mat then off of it.

"Why? I mean why now?"

"It's… becoming clearer to me. The longer I'm here…" She shakes her head as if to clear it, then nods towards the practice ring. "Let's see what work we have to do."

She sits in between the ropes of the ring, lifting the top rope with her shoulder and pushing the middle rope down with her body weight, creating a wider space for James to enter through. [1] He steps through carefully, anticipating her first attack and dances around her quick sweep at his legs. She's always cared little for waiting for her opponents-slash-victims to be ready for the start of a bout. He thinks he sees a slight smile on her face as she transitions into a punch from her metal arm.

He mostly stays on the defensive, feeling more comfortable fighting around her, taking shots only when it's absolutely safe to.

Their macabre dance continues until the Soldier stops when her metal fist is an inch from his face, finally at a point in their spar that he couldn't quite dodge one of her attacks. James is panting, his body feeling sluggish from prolonged exertion. She's breathing fast but she's not even started sweating yet.

She lowers her fist. "Good. Tomorrow night I'll make sure you're not falling behind on the takedowns."

He feels an excited prickling creeping up his spine at the prospect of training each night with her. Even if it means getting thrown down over and over by her.

"Yes, солдат." he answers as levelly as he can.

She shudders, jerking away from the title that they'd all been using to address her.

"Don't…" James can see her jaw working, as if chewing through a thought, "Call me… Natalia."

“Agent Barton's been compromised."

Coulson's voice sends a dark slither of fear through James. He barely remembers breaking the chair he's tied to. Or what he does to his marks to get to extraction. By the time he's landed on the helicarrier, he can't even unclench his jaw enough to greet Coulson on the platform. Coulson takes one look at him and sits him down in the mess with an entire pot of tea. At some point, Maria appears with coffee for her and Phil.

"We need you on handling duty for the assets." Maria says once their coffees are done. "Can you do it?"

James stiffens. It's the wrong thing to say, it pushes all the Red Room inadequacy buttons programmed into him. So it's also the exact right thing to say.

"Do you know where he is?" he hears himself asking.

"He was stationed with Selvig when Loki attacked. Since then he's been using his SHIELD devices and connections to get a huge amount of supplies not in line with the doctor's research. We assume Loki has taken control somehow," Maria states.

"We know he's alive. We know where he is and what he's doing. We just need the team together to deal with Loki." Coulson finishes.

"I'll be the first to know if anything changes." James looks up from his empty tea mug, finally.

They both nod.

"Then I can do it."

"Barnes and Rogers will be here tomorrow first thing." Maria says before getting up from their table.

Banner and Rogers are easy enough to handle. James thanks his past self for not recommending Stark for the project. He wouldn’t be able to handle Stark right now.

They’re all called up to the bridge when Loki makes his appearance. In Germany. Far from where they’d stationed Selvig.

"Barnes, you're on air support." Fury tells him once Rogers and Banner are loaded up.

"We know you want a shot at Loki. You'll get it," Maria says before James can argue.

"You have other skills to leverage and we need you to be a surprise to Loki," Coulson adds.

"… You're going to capture him." James says.

"It'll be the fastest way to find Agent Barton. And figure out what Loki is after." Coulson nods.

"Alright. See you soon plus one Norse god."

James ends up returning not only with one Norse god, but two. And Stark. So, you win some you lose some. Fortunately for him, he doesn’t have to deal with Stark for long. Fury tasks James with getting information out of Loki as soon as they load him off of the jet. He’s not really sure who out-manipulated who, but ultimately James is the one who gets information that’s useful to the Avengers’ goals.

And then it all starts going sideways.

James still isn't quite sure if Fury's plan was to trick Loki into bringing Clint here to free him, or if that was just an unexpected bonus.

 Fighting Banner and Clint at the same time is not exactly his idea of a good time, but once he gets Clint in close quarters, there's a sort of satisfaction in having some of his own moves used against him. Moves he'd never explicitly taught Clint, even. Things he must’ve picked up from them working together for so long.

James wonders what he’s picked up from Clint.

Now, sitting against Clint, pressing against each other's bruises in all the wrong ways, the pain feels grounding. It’s just them. And their battered but still working bodies and no time to contemplate the implications of mind-manipulating gods.

They pull each other off the bench and more or less fall into New York.

The battle is pure survival instinct, and by the time the portal is closed and Loki is subdued, James feels less like a human and more like a gun that's run through all its bullets and was then used to severely bludgeon someone.

Tony somehow finds a place that's both open and willing to serve them shawarma. They all find their seats around the table as if they’d eaten together a hundred times before. Clint barely needs to shift to the side before James is resting a leg on the outside of Clint's chair. The contact is reassuring. Feeling the slight movements of Rogers on one side of him and Clint on the other makes him feel not totally adrift, at least.

After the Battle of New York, the Avengers become a household name with SHIELD not far behind. Which is to say, Clint and Bucky are pulling double duty working higher profile missions at SHIELD and helping out with the Avengers when they can.

And the higher profile missions mean they’re often getting their briefings straight from Director Fury, now.

Fury slides a folder across his desk at them.

Clint looks from Bucky to the file. It's marked with several kinds of "CONFIDENTIAL" stamps. The ones that mean you're not supposed to take this out of Fury's line of sight. He looks back to Bucky.

"HYDRA?" Bucky reads aloud as he skims.

"Lots of activity lately. I need you to split up so we can cover more ground," Fury explains.

"You want me with Cap and STRIKE again?" Bucky asks.

Fury nods.

"And me?"

"Maybe read the file right in front of you, Barton." Fury grins sardonically.

Bucky's smirk grows to full power. Clint glares at Bucky while trying to also read the file.

“You’re both wheels up in 15. Better get packing.” Fury sing-songs at them while kicking them out of his office.

Clint and Bucky turn to face each other at the branch of the hallway where they have to go separate ways to get to their quarters.

“See you soon?” Clint says.

Bucky nods, rubbing a spot under his collar bone. “I’ll give Steve your love.”

Clint almost asks about it, he’s never known Bucky to have a nervous tell, but then again maybe he’s just another form of Black Widow honesty. Hiding one less thing from his partner. So he doesn’t point it out.

“You better.” Clint smiles.

Bucky’s hand falls away from the spot he was worrying as he smiles back.

Natalia sights her target. He moves between her sightlines just before she’s able to pull the trigger. Maybe he knows she's there. Maybe he's trying to warn the person whose apartment he broke into. 

But she's the Winter Soldier and she always gets her mark.

The old man falls to the floor.

His friend doesn't cower like she'd predicted, he rushes to the roof instead. They stare at each other across the tops of their respective buildings. Then she turns and runs.

She hears the 'shing' of thrown metal and turns on instinct to block the projectile. The impact sends a shock through her body. She didn't quite expect to find a shield embedded in her palm.

She turns to look at him over her shoulder. Then falls.

Steve has no idea how James gets to his apartment so soon, but he lets him up to poke around the fancy new bullet holes there, anyway.

"Fury's the one who's always trusted me." Bucky takes a shaky breath, looking at the blood left on Steve's floor. "Clint brought me in, Fury said 'don't fuck up' and that was it."

"Wait… he didn't give you the whole thing on 'the last person who I trusted gave me this scar' talk?"

James scoffs, "Is that what he told you? He got that from a cat."

Steve opens his mouth and shuts it a few times. By the time he remembers that James is an absolute pest, he's already gone.

The next time James turns up, it's outside Fury's hospital room. He's not sure if James was just late or if he was waiting to ambush him.

"Why was Fury in your apartment, Steve?"

James doesn't take his eyes off Steve, even as Rumlow tells Steve to come back to SHIELD HQ.

He doesn't quite meet James' eyes when he responds. When Steve tells him he doesn’t know why Fury was there. So James tells him he's a terrible liar. And when Steve goes back to the Triskellion, James goes nowhere near it.

He sends Clint a message in a code they'd invented after Budapest. If he gets it, he'll go to ground and Bucky won't hear back from his partner until they can meet in person again. So, fresh out of asses to kick (since he waited until the SHIELD agents had cleared out), he chews some bubblegum.[2] 

When Steve returns a few hours later, James doesn't resist as Steve backs him into the supply closet, holding him up against the wall there, grinning to himself the whole time.

"I know who killed Fury." James offers.

He explains his first run in with the Winter Soldier. "Bye bye bikinis," he adds sarcastically.

"I bet you still look great in bikinis," Steve responds.

"Aw. Didn’t know you cared, Rogers. Now. Should we see what's on this drive?"

"Seriously? You're taking me to a mall?" Steve frowns slightly.

"Follow my lead, Cap and we might get out of here alive."

Bucky takes Steve's hand and lets a sappy smile fall into place on his face.

"Okay. That's scary."

"Still haven't updated from the 40s on this one?" Bucky holds up their joined hands.

"No. I mean… yes. Just… your face."

Bucky lets a real grin through the mask. "You do know what I do for a living, yes? Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable. Gay couples even more so. They'll just see us as a gay couple… whatever that means to them. They won't be looking at us."[3] 

"You're a real ray of sunshine, you know that, Barnes?" Steve frowns slightly at James’ description of the scenario.

But Steve follows him through the mall, anyway and they easily slip through the fingers of Rumlow’s team. Bucky even discovers that people from the 40s still knew how to kiss. Either that or Steve’s been getting some practice, which means his matchmaking efforts hadn’t been going to waste this whole time.

The data on the USB drive leads them to an old bunker in New Jersey. They meet one of the heads of HYDRA, encoded in old tape decks or some nonsense. Tape decks that can apparently call in missile strikes from SHIELD. Luckily Bucky’s phone buzzes, warning them of the impending attack.

"30 seconds." Bucky reads aloud.

He meets Steve's eyes from across the room. Steve barely has to lift his arm before Bucky is charging at him. Steve curls around them both as best as he can, keeping the shield over their heads. The blast replaces all of the air with fire. And then the debris hits them.

After digging themselves out of the remains of that bunker, Steve insists they need an ally and Bucky insists he needs a shower. Sam is impressively unperturbed when they say they need to hide from the government in his house. Then he suggests that they steal a government prototype, kidnap Sitwell to drop him off a roof and Bucky is delighted to have Sam on the team.

The "roadtrip from hell", as Sam would later refer to it, starts with their window getting punched in and Sitwell getting ripped out of the backseat— seat belt and all— before any of them can even scream.

Well. Sitwell might have managed it at the end, there. Hard to tell at the speed they're moving.

James anticipates what's coming next. He rolls into the front seat as the shot comes through the roof over where he’d just been sitting. Steve's arms are around his waist, which makes it easier for Bucky to wrap his arms behind Steve's neck and lever him forward, narrowly pulling him out of the way of the next shot.

Sam slams the brakes. Their assailant flies off the roof of the car, bounces once, then digs their metal handinto the pavement until they slide to a stop. All while never leaving a crouch. James has what feels like a lifetime to fixate on that red hair. He’d know her hair anywhere. The Winter Soldier’s hair.

He knows his mouth is hanging open but he can't do anything to close it. Even though it would cause Steve to ask too many questions.

But then the Soldier raises her head. Blackout goggles like bug eyes stare straight through him. James raises his gun on instinct. He's seen that look— that muzzle— on her before and it means she has no idea who she is, let alone who they are.

Before he can decide if he needs to shoot or not, they're rammed from behind. James loses his gun in the impact. By the time he finds it, Sam is bemoaning the loss of their steering wheel. Steve is jamming the shield into the game between his side and the car door. James has to agree with his plan to bail and folds himself under Steve's arm once again, both of them grabbing a handful of Sam in order to haul him along with them. A final shove to the door and they're sledding down the highway. James loses hold of Sam, then loses track of Steve after Steve gets himself RPG'd off of a bridge. Another two RPGs are aimed directly at him and James gets the hint.

He lets the next grenade carry him over the edge of the highway, dropping his gun in favor of his grappling hook, landing more or less safely on the underside of the bridge. He waits. And when he gets a shot, aims straight for those soulless lenses.

When she reappears over the ledge, goggle-less and firing wildly, James has to give up his position. He can't help shooting a victorious grin up at her before getting out of sight and out of range of her rifle.

He knows the Soldier moves slowly, which James uses to his advantage. He baits a trap with a recording on his SHIELD phone (which isn't good for much now, anyway), then finds somewhere to hide and dig out anything that would be useful against a metal-armed super soldier.

The Soldier lumbers into his trap, hearing his recording and then softly rolling a grenade under the car he'd placed the phone by.

Natasha using a grenade to try and off him is a bit of overkill, yes, but it also serves as an excellent opportunity for him to latch onto her back and try to outmuscle her with a garrote. She gets her hand under the wire and after struggling against each other for a moment, the Soldier remembers her feet and uses her superior strength to send James flying onto the pavement. But James tucks and rolls and as she’s taking aim at him, he throws the miniature EMP onto her arm.

The metal arm spasms and seizes up and James doesn’t waste any time before fleeing.

He's still running, trying to navigate the river of panicked civilians, when the Soldier hits him square in the shoulder. He drops down behind a car and tries to use the nearby car mirrors to figure out where she even managed to shoot him from.

Their eyes meet through the scope of her rifle. James tenses to dodge her next shot- if he even can- but one never comes. Instead there's the telltale clang of Steve's shield. When James looks, The Soldier is holding Steve’s shield. Steve and her stare at each other for a beat. Then she whips the shield at Steve, as if to rub in that he has no built in defense against his own weapon. The shield embeds itself halfway into an overturned truck, but Steve just runs past it, intent on getting to the Soldier. They trade bone breaking, lightning fast blows until the Soldier gets a knife into her hand. And then it's a bit like watching art in motion for James. Watching her toss and weave and strike with the knife all while keeping up with Steve's blows sort of makes James fall in love with her again.

He blinks. And pretends the blood loss is to blame for that errant thought.

Not getting anywhere merely trading punches, Steve starts breaking out the flying knees and suplexes and the Soldier starts really utilizing the arm. She nearly punches straight through the road when aiming for Steve's head. Steve dodges just in time and somehow manages to  fight his way back to his shield, using it to catch a metal-enhanced back elbow from the Soldier before hitting her in the face with the front of the shield.

James watches the mask hit the ground.

He sees Natasha scowl as her face is revealed.

"…. Natasha?"

James barely hears Steve speaking.

"Who the fuck is Natasha?" she says, raising her gun.

James is already in front of Steve, though, hunched over slightly as his shoulder insists this is not the time for heroics.

Natasha's eyes go wide— a crack in her brainwashing James can practically feel the edges of.

With the two of them staring her down, she bolts.

As if this is some sort of signal, Rumlow’s STRIKE team descends upon them in numbers they have no chance of overpowering. Especially not in their current condition.

James offers little resistance as the corrupt unit puts him in reinforced restraints and into the back of an armored transport. Steve offers even less. He doesn't even talk until they're well out of the city and James is woozy from blood loss.

"That was Natasha. She looked right at me and she didn't even know me," he says.

It’s quiet enough that James isn't entirely sure Steve knows he just said that out loud.

"Even when I had nothing… I had Natasha," he continues.

James' head lolls back onto the side of the van.

"Yeah, well. Could be worse," he says without really meaning to.

Sam turns to him, probably to ask him what the fuck is wrong with him, but stops when he sees the blood leaking from James' shoulder.

"Hey, he's gonna bleed out if we don't put pressure on that wound," Sam tries to appeal to the guards.

The nearest goon brandishes their cattle prod at Sam. Then suddenly turns and shocks the second goon. The first goon rips off their helmet, revealing none other than Maria Hill.

"Hill what the fuck. You were just going to let me bleed out back here?" James growls.

Then promptly passes out.

They strap Natalia into the chair. The arm has seen a lot of action in its last outing and needs to see some maintenance.

The chair always brings back memories. Only now she feels like she has too many in her head. In one life she remembers her best friend, blonde hair and blue eyes, screaming for her as she falls off of a train.

The same man she'd seen today. The same fall she's had nightmares about almost every time they put her back on ice.

In the other life, though, is the scientist. He'd never bothered to tell her his name, but told her her own name instead. Natalia Romanova, the fist of HYDRA. And that life, which seemed so clear, is shattering around her. Fragments- mostly filled with violence and gunfire… and occasionally dark hair and piercing blue eyes- shattering around her. It all builds up around her until she's tense enough that a stray move from the scientist near her arm causes her to flinch, throwing him across the room with unexpected force.

They should have put her back on ice for that, but instead the politician is asking her for a mission report. So she presses her luck. If she knows either of their names, she feels it could untangle some of the mess of her brain.

"The men on the bridge… who are they?" she asks.

Her answer is a backhand. Then the politician lies, saying she'd met them only earlier this week. But politicians lying isn't a surprise. Instead he tries to spin her some bright HYDRA future. By dodging her question, she knows HYDRA is desperate.

She sees two paths before her, mirroring the two lives now warring in her head.

She nods. One sharp motion. The politician smiles and leans away from her.

"Good. Alright, don’t put her back in cryo. She’ll need to be sharp for the mission." He waves away the scientists’ protests as he strides out of the room.

Natalia lets her eyes slip closed, glad to have more time to try and uncover the truth of why those two men are turning her brain inside out.

Steve finds James in his hospital bed, bandage prominent on his shoulder and a file balanced on one knee in front of him. The only sign he gives to acknowledge Steve's presence is to quickly pull his hand away from the spot it was moving over near the edge of his bandage.

"You also know her," Steve says.

James' only response is a quirked eyebrow over the top of the file.

"In the truck. You said I could have it worse."

"I'd also lost a litre of blood. According to Wilson, anyway." James replies absent-mindedly, as if most of his attention is still on the file.

"Then your reaction on the bridge suddenly made a lot more sense when I figured out you also know her," Steve continues as if James hadn't said anything.

James flips to the next page languidly, "You know, Rogers, people think you're just a pretty face but I think there might be more going on up there then you want people to know about."

Steve smiles wryly, "That might be a bit of a projection."[4] 

"Glad the feeling is mutual, then," James finally makes eye contact with Steve long enough to wink at him.

"Alright, listen. You don't have to tell me how but… She seemed to snap out of whatever it is they did to her when I said her name and when she saw both of us. I think we can… get her out of it."

James sighs, finally putting the file aside and sitting up straighter in the bed, pulling his knee all the way up to his chest, "It generally doesn't work like that. It's usually how long she's been away from their reprogramming. But also it was only ever me… maybe having a deeper connection with her will work better."

Steve blinks.

"When did you first see her? 5 days ago? That does seem like an accelerated schedule."

"Should I just leave you alone to make a plan?" Steve asks after James doesn't say anything else for a few minutes.

James reaches for the file and flips it over to write on the backs of the papers. Steve figures this is as much of a dismissal as he's going to get.

Steve stops in the doorway, "And Buck… whatever you come up with I'll back you 100%."

When Steve looks over his shoulder, James is touching the same spot as earlier. Only this time the change in position makes it easier to see the small arrow tattooed just under his collar bone.

"Hey, Cap." he says, scribbling fastidiously, “You might want to pick up a costume. Specifically the one in the Smithsonian."

James looks up momentarily, a smirk playing on the edge of his lips. "Just make sure they don't accidentally put you in their fossil collection."

Steve scoffs lightly on his way out of James’ room.

Steve does show up in his original costume.

Maria raises an eyebrow at him as Sam stifles a yawn. She gives them the mission rundown. With the Soldier coming after them, their best bet is to stick together and replace the targeting blades in each of the three helicarriers one by one. The chaos of SHIELD splintering very publicly means there’s not much advantage to hitting each helicarrier separately and leaving the trio more vulnerable by working separately.

"We won’t have a lot of room to maneuver." Maria looks at Steve, also. "But I'll give you as much time as I can to talk your girl down."

Steve tips his head forward in thanks.

"So… we do a hands in thing here or…" Sam prospectively puts his hand towards the center of their small group.

The rest look at his hand and then turn to walk over the hill to the Triskellion.

"This is a bad way to start a team thing!" Sam shouts after them.

 The three of them together might as well be taking a brisk walk in the park for all the resistance they encounter in the first two helicarriers. They get Maria's override blades placed into the targeting arrays barely breaking a sweat.

"The Soldier just popped up." Hill's voice comes through as sharp and matter-of-fact as always.

Even when James can hear the gunfire in the background of her audio.

"Where?" Steve prompts her.

"She's on the ground for— wait, never mind. Hm" Hill pauses. "Well she just destroyed our entire fleet of jets with her bare hands."

Hill pauses again. The clicking on the line indicates she's finding new camera feeds to look at. James, Sam and Steve clear another floor of their last helicarrier. Steve is speaking with a small group of starstruck SHIELD agents.

"She's headed straight for you." Hill tells them.

James might be imagining it in the anticipation of the confrontation, but he imagines even Hill's message is more rushed than normal.

"We better move," James says, then turns to the other agents, "Take the escape pods on the lower levels, you don't want to get in the way of what HYDRA just sent in here."

The agents snap into action once the Black Widow gives them direct instruction. James tries not to roll his eyes as they scurry off. At least his boogey-man-esque reputation among the more junior agents pays off more often than not.

Steve nods to James and the three take off at a jog, hoping to get through the rest of the HYDRA troops before Natasha reaches them. James slides under Steve's shield throw to tackle a HYDRA agent as Sam flies over both of them to fire on any HYDRA member not within Steve or Natasha's reach.

They make it to the glass-bottomed targeting room with the huge column of the targeting array in sight when the Soldier finds them. A loud clanging strike coming from above them is their only warning before Natasha is falling down along with a good portion of the ceiling, landing fist-first into a crouch at the edge of the catwalk the three are standing on. Sam and James flank Steve as they stand between Natasha and their objective.

"Bit of a complication," Maria says.

"No kidding," Sam replies, eyeing Natasha.

"Rumlow is back. He's heading towards Fury and Pierce," she continues.

"Interference?" James suggests, sending a glance towards Sam.

Sam is already priming his wings, "Alright, alright I get I'm the thir— er, fourth wheel here. I can take a hint."

He dives over the guardrail, shooting through the glass on his way down, before flying back towards the Triskellion.

"How do you know me?" Natasha growls.

Her shoulders are hunched and her fists balled. Her eyes are wide and darting between James and Steve as if one of them might shatter if she stops observing them for long enough. James' stomach twists. He recognizes that look as one she gets after a particularly nasty brainwashing. One that leaves her questioning her reality and that's ended painfully for one or both of them.

“Natasha— Nat… we.” Steve swallows thickly. “We grew up together in Brooklyn. Before the war. We were basically inseparable from the age of 4. I’m pretty sure the only reason I survived long enough to graduate high school is because you were always around to take care of me and to watch my back.”

Natasha squeezes her eyes shut as if she’s trying to fend off a headache. James reaches forward, barely needing to stretch to get into the pouch at Steve’s waist where the last targeting blade is being held. Steve glances at James out of the corner of his eye. James tries to gesture that Steve should keep her talking. Keep talking to her. James starts to walk backwards, keeping his steps silent, towards the array.

As if by some silent agreement, Steve takes a step forward. The distance between them seems ominous, somehow. Steve is within striking distance of Natasha, now. Which is probably even more dangerous in the state she's in.

"You know me, Nat,” he says, pleading.

Her teeth are on display now, lips pulled back in a feral display. She's trembling from the effort to hold herself still. From past experience, James can tell she's not even sure if the outcome of letting herself move would be running for her life or punching Steve repeatedly.

James almost forgets where he is in the process of replacing the blade, trying to take out the HYDRA blade before the glass surrounding everything is open.

"I… don't know…" Natasha’s voice is trembling as much as the rest of her.

"You do," James finally addresses her, "You're confused but you know."

He’s jeopardizing the mission, now. Drawing attention to himself and not focusing on getting their blade into place.

Natasha squeezes her eyes closed even tighter at the sound of his voice.

"You don’t know what’s real right now. You think HYDRA is lying to you. And they are, but not in the way you think. Everything you remember is yours. But HYDRA can temporarily take it away. They wipe you…”

Natasha starts to shake her head again. She freezes mid -shake, like something has physically stopped her. She's suddenly as still as the legendary sniper she is.

"I— You really both know me?"

James breathes out.

"Not all of you. That would be impossible but…"

The glass slides open, allowing him to locate the correct drawer where the blades need to be swapped.

"Yes," Steve finishes for the both of them.

Slowly, as if to reach out to a skittish cat, Steve raises his hand, palm up to Natasha. James slides the drawer open, takes out the HYDRA blade.

"We want to help you find out. Who we are. Who you are." Steve says in his most earnestly optimistic Captain America voice.

And if Natasha can't trust that voice, James figures they never really had a chance.

Natasha's hand snaps forward, fitting into Steve's neatly. James slots his blade into the slot with equal zeal. They let out a collective breath of a crisis avoided.

And run.

"So let me get this straight. You three go out for the weekend then come back with a mega-assassin, having also taken down a neo-Nazi organization on the way?" Tony gesticulates wildly while pacing back and forth in the common area.

"Sort of," Steve says.

"Basically." James shrugs.

"Technically I was on a different weekend that also resulted in a lot of dead Nazis," Clint adds.

Tony throws his hands up towards the ceiling, "You had to bring home a stray mega-assassin, though?!"

"She's not a mega-assassin." Steve frowns at Tony. "And also you're the one who insisted we all live together here."

"It is pretty risky to bring a HYDRA asset into what is now the last line of defense for earth," Clint says.

Natasha cringes, trying to sink further into the couch. James draws himself up to his full height in order to scowl down at Clint.

"Anyone at SHIELD who'd've said that about me when you first brought me in would've had their asses kicked by you."

Clint turns away from Bucky, his shoulders in a tense, angry line.

"I still don't… fully know who I am. How can you trust me? And expect everyone else to?" Natasha finally speaks up.

Her voice is quiet. Exhausted.

Steve sends James a helpless glance.

"Whenever I couldn't trust myself, Clint would always keep watch over me until I had a handle on myself again," James says slowly.

He darts a look at Clint, but his partner is avoiding his gaze, so he looks to Steve next.

"What if I never feel… myself? What if I’m never safe to be around?"

"Wouldn't it be safest to be around people who could actually stop you?" James replies immediately.

Natasha frowns, but goes back to pretending she isn't a part of their conversation. Which isn’t an ideal reaction, but at least she doesn’t jump out of one of the windows or something.

"Well I'm not offering a guard service for this," Tony says, "JARVIS can send me an update when this all goes tits up."

The meeting breaks up after that, leaving just Steve, Natasha and James in the common area.

"I can handle watch duty for a while. Don't need as much sleep as I used to," Steve says, mostly to James, "Plus it's my fault you're getting saddled with this now."

"I suggested it." This earns James a tiny snort from Natasha. "But I do have something to deal with now."

James doesn't bother checking the training area or Clint's rooms for his partner, he goes straight to the roof.

The roof is the only place in Stark Tower that isn't over-finished with chrome and glass. It's still raw and unfinished. It feels a bit more like them. Plus there's no JARVIS here, no risk of someone else walking into their conversations. The only way up to the roof is through a service hatch so obscure, James is half convinced that the contractors who built it are the only ones who know it exists besides the two partners.

Clint is sitting on the lip of the roof, legs dangling over the edge and his back exposed. James sits a bare inch from Clint's back, facing away from the edge of the skyscraper. Clint waits a moment for James to settle before leaning back against him. It's an old habit between them, sitting back to back when they feel a tension building tight and cold between them. It's a physical reminder that they always have each others' backs.

"I'm glad you got my message." James starts.

“Me too.”  Clint’s breathing is slow and steady at James’ back. “You really saved my hide with that. I would’ve assumed it was one or two defectors and come right back to HQ.”

“Sorry to ruin the surprise, I suppose.”

“Now that you mention it, ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ is kinda my brand.” James can tell Clint is smiling.

They sit in silence for a few breaths, each inhale seeming to push them closer together. 

“I don’t want to talk about Natasha. Not yet.” Clint says.

“I… was afraid that’s what was bothering you. I was selfishly hoping it would just be losing SHIELD.” James sighs.

“Ha.” Clint doesn’t laugh so much as pronounce the sound, “I was just going to say it was selfish to feel... bad about this. It’s not like you never told me about her…” He trails off with a one-sided shrug.

“Bad how?” James asks.

His stomach is sour and tight with the knowledge that by saving Natasha he’s hurt Clint. It’s somehow made worse by the fact that he hadn’t even factored Clint into any of this, he’d only been thinking of Natasha from the moment it was clear the Winter Soldier had reappeared. James has probably hurt Clint dozens of times- both physically and emotionally- but it’s always been with a calculating hand. Weighing a lesser hurt against a greater one, somehow protecting them both.

“Just… bad for now. I think I need to piece through it alone before I can name it or talk about it more.”

James nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” James says quietly but sure, rubbing at the spot under his collarbone where an arrow is etched into his skin.

He’d gotten it as a reminder of how permanently Clint has changed his life. Of how he always carries a part of his partner with him.

When they get up from the edge of the building, the sun is setting a brilliant red over the New York skyline, blazing off the mirror surfaces of the hundreds of other skyscrapers in midtown. They walk back into the tower, staying close enough to keep brushing their shoulders together, neither of them entirely ready to give up the steady contact of the rooftop.

Natasha, Steve and James fall into a rhythm.

Steve needs vastly less sleep than the rest of them, so she ends up spending most of her time with Steve. Sometimes he talks to her about their shared past- most of which Natasha still can't remember- or the news. Or the book he's currently reading. Anything to fill the empty air between them.

James, by contrast, seems to prefer the silence. He’ll ask if she's hungry, how long it's been since she's been able to sleep, what she likes to eat. It could be overbearing, but compared to Steve it feels unobtrusive. Calming, almost.

Natasha doesn't know what time it is now, but James is in the kitchen making something that she's planning on stealing pieces of. The elevator swishes open and Tony walks out, still in his pajamas. Which really doesn't give her any clue as to what time it is.

Tony stops mid-yawn when he sees her sitting alone. His posture goes stiff and then a strange look comes over his face.

"Hey, they letting you out alone now, hot stuff?"

Natasha blinks. Tony is looking at her but can't be addressing her. She'd learned from Steve that Tony had a strange sense of humor. Maybe she’s just missing a joke?

"Aw, that 's sweet of you to say, babe, but I thought you and Pepper were pretty serious right now?" James appears via hooking his chin over Tony's shoulder.

Tony turns red faster than someone in a chokehold. [5] Which can't be healthy. James winds even further around Tony, whispering something in the other man’s ear. Natasha almost feels like she shouldn't be watching this. Until Tony turns white with equal speed. This time she's sure that sort of change in blood pressure isn't healthy.

James unwraps himself from around Tony, who teeters off into the kitchen and then skitters down into his lab without coming even close to them. Natasha takes the tea offered to her by James.

"You two have history?" Natasha ventures.

James snorts, "Hardly. He just needed someone to remind him of his manners."

"You're a sniper."

Clint looks over his shoulder to find Natasha watching him and Bucky trailing behind. Clint looks directly at Bucky, who shrugs before gesturing to Natasha. Silent conversation finished, Clint turns back to Natasha.

"I'm surprised Bucky hasn't told you," he replies.

"Bucky?" Natasha turns to her shadow, raising both her eyebrows at him.

Clint grins, waggling his eyebrows at Natasha, "Now I'm not surprised he didn't tell you his middle name is 'Buchanan' because that's a completely ridiculous middle name to have. I shortened it to 'Bucky', mostly because it bugs the hell out of him."

Bucky glares at Clint as he walks past him to the stash of weapons that lives in the practice range. Natasha follows after a curious glance between Clint and James, who's already holding out a rifle to her.

"Whoa! w[6] hen'd we get that?!" Clint calls from the other end of the range.

"What'd you expect me to practice with if you won't let me use your bow?"

Natasha takes the rifle, checking the chamber and all the other moving parts of the rifle mechanically. Then she pauses, blinking at the rifle like it's offended her.

"This is… what I shot you with…" Natasha says.

James hears Clint's shot miss the archery target, arrowhead clanging off of one of the walls.

"It was a good shot." James winks at her. "Figured it would be a good rifle."

"Oh my god are you flirting using your near-fatal, deeply scarred bullet wound right now!?" Clint cries.

They're both startled by the half-choked sound coming out of Natasha. They turn to see her leaning on the rifle, shaking with a hand clasped over her mouth. They both take a step toward her to make sure she’s okay before getting a glimpse of her face. Grinning. Her eyes are about as wide as James'.

"Sorry. I guess I sort of forgot how to do that. Bit rusty." She smiles weakly.

James hears Clint's huff of breath from behind him and doesn't even need to turn to see the bewildered-slash-enamored look on his partner's face. It's the same look and specific huff he does whenever he realizes too late that he's adopted yet another stray.

'Glad you're onboard' James signs to Clint as he and Natasha are leaving the range.

Clint scoffs at him, but can't hide the smile playing at the edges of his lips.

Natasha doesn’t know how it happens, but suddenly her schedule is completely full. Her early mornings or late nights (depending on her sleep schedule) are meditation with Bruce. It helps massively to spend time with someone who understands the struggle of constantly fighting against yourself.

Tony starts putting on terrible B-movies in the dead of night and insisting that Natasha just happens to be there for them. Even when he goes out of his way to find her, popcorn in hand, when she tries to hide out with Steve. (She learns that night that Steve takes even the corniest of B-movies with such a level of seriousness and intensity that she can't help but find adorable.)

Then Clint keeps pulling her into random "sniper competitions". First, when they're in the firing range together, then slowly evolving into Natasha spending days learning the arcing properties of foam darts in order to see which one of them could hit the farthest target using a toy rifle.

Soon she's seeking Steve out because he and Bucky aren't the only ones willing to be around her. With less focus solely on her recovery, her memories are coming back more easily. It's a mix of war, HYDRA, and Brooklyn and it's useful to have Steve help sort it all out.

She and Bucky… Fight a lot. She remembers now that sparring and training is how they met, so in some ways it feels like the best way they can communicate. And even though it seems like James is somewhat reluctant to have her remember more of their shared past, the sparring helps her remember, too.

Mostly in the form of James using moves she recognizes as her own against her. She's pretty sure it's not intentional flattery, just something that James was taught so long ago it's completely integrated into his own style. Which is a flattery in its own way. But deep down... she wants it to be intentional.

She feels a deeper connection with him. But she also feels him intentionally slipping through her fingers whenever she tries to grab at it.

Natasha never gets enough time to dig into this, though. Tony and Bruce are arguing over whether 6AM is an appropriate time to have a late night movie marathon. Thor is trying to goad her into eating a frozen poptart. So while she yearns for something deeper, there’s an easy happiness to being surrounded by these people who have all become her friends. Her home.

When Clint and James appear, the four of them are eating frozen poptarts and popcorn while watching nature documentaries. Clint tries to pair a frozen blueberry poptart with his steaming coffee and— horrifyingly— seems to enjoy the combination. James and Natasha trade disturbed glances over his head.