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The Winter Soldier, despite his reputation, was Natasha’s preferred mission partner.
Other handlers sometimes leered. Others may not be so perceptive, but she was a Black Widow and she could feel their eyes on their body. She had been trained to tolerate it, but it always felt worse coming from handlers. Thankfully they knew better than to act on it.
Still, the Soldier was her favorite. His programming ensured his professionalism and ensures that she is not distracted from their target.
Or at least it used to. Their most recent mission was a success, but weather left them stranded until it was safe to return for debriefing.
Initially, they had believed the storm would pass in a few hours. The Soldier checked the perimeter and checked the cabin they had found for any bugs or weapons. After that, he stood for a long time facing the door in case of an intruder.
The cabin was slowly warming from their presence, but they couldn’t afford to set a fire and risk anyone following the smoke. The cabin was small, with the main room holding the wood fire stove, a couch, a sink, a mismatched kitchen table and chairs, and walls of cabinets and shelves. There was a small bedroom and bathroom off the main room, also minimally furnished in warm tones and hand-carved wood.
With the Soldier still standing guard, Natasha busied herself doing stretches and cleaning her weapons. Eventually, with snow still falling outside, she decided to sleep.
“Wake me up in four hours and we can switch,” she told the Soldier. He was technically her superior, but he did not seem to be coming up with any ideas. She suppressed a small smile when he nodded, and she went into the bedroom to sleep.
Perhaps she should not feel so comfortable sleeping in the Soldiers presence, but she refused to think about it. She needed sleep soon or her performance would suffer.
She woke to a sound in the room and had her gun trained on the source within a second. She lowered it as she recognized the Soldier. Her four hours were up.
Silently, she stood from the bed and retreated back to the main room.
She had been sitting for an hour when the whimpering started. With her gun in hand and safety off, she entered the room.
Her mind was racing through the possibilities. Perhaps someone had found another way in and the Soldier had disarmed them. Perhaps the soldier was less professional than she thought and he was pleasuring himself. Targets whimpered when tortured. Some of the Widows still in training did, but never after graduation.
She did not expect to find the soldier whimpering in his sleep, body shaking.
Her first reaction was fear. She had never been trained to handle something like this.
With the mission complete, Natasha’s first priority was returning to the Red Room unharmed. The Soldier’s wellbeing was not a priority.
But she was curios. Knowledge gave her leverage, even if she never used it. What had happened so that the notorious Winter Soldier would cry in his sleep?
Taking a deep breath, she lowered her weapon and moved closer to the bed. Waking the soldier up was a dangerous option, but she was confident she could handle him long enough for him to remember she was not a threat.
“Wake up,” she ordered, her voice sharp. When the whimpering continued, she reached out to nudge his shoulder.
“Stevie?” he asked quietly, rousing from sleep. She had never heard him sound so vulnerable.
“No. Who is Stevie?” she asked curiously. Perhaps an American handler? The Soldier turned to face her, his eye unfocussed in a way she had never seen in him before. He let out a breath, his face falling into a frown.
“I don’t know.”
Natasha sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, watching as the man’s confusion and sadness turned into blankness. It was odd to her, because it wasn’t like her own mask which she put on to hide herself. It was more like they had never existed in the first place.
“Who is Stevie?” she asked again eventually.
“Who?” the Soldier asked, his voice returned to about normal, considering she had never heard him sound confused. He genuinely didn’t remember.
Three hours later, handlers arrived at the cabin. In debriefing, she lied when they asked about the Soldier. She knew it was dangerous, but if he had no memory of it, he couldn’t get her into trouble.
Besides, she didn’t want to lose consideration for future missions with him. Not if she wanted to be able to learn more.
***
The memory of their time in the cabin, still fresh at only a few weeks old, makes her look forward to their extended mission. She is a Black Widow, she should not look forward to any particular mission. She knows this, but it does not change what she feels.
Their target is suspicious to standard honeypot lures. Other organizations have tried to use them unsuccessfully, their agents not as well trained as the Red Room has trained her. Even though she knows she could do it, she does not make the decisions. Because he is also known for his proclivity for married women, they are sending her with a partner. His clearance level means they cannot risk him recognizing a borrowed KGB agent, so the Winter Soldier becomes her husband. She has not worked like this with him before, but she looks forward to another successful mission.
They are given an apartment in a nice neighborhood in the city. It is nicer than Natasha has every experienced outside of the quick seduction and quicker deaths of visiting dignitaries. There is a doorman that they greet when they arrive, Natasha giving a saccharinely sweet greeting while the soldier, Dmitri for this mission, acts with the aloofness of a man who has grown up in wealth and power.
It is perfect. Doormen talk and it does better for him to think that their relationship is not perfect.
The apartment is furnished simply, but she can tell by the fabrics that it is expensive. Fitting of their station should their target come over. It is a small luxury that she knows she must not get accustomed to.
Natasha tried not to be disappointed when Dmitri decided not to sleep the first night.
***
The target was proving harder to seduce than Natasha anticipated. He was obviously interested, Natasha could read people’s body language well enough to know that, but he was not making a move yet.
Still, it had only been two days.
Still, longer than most other missions she had been on.
Dmitri still hadn’t slept.
She wondered if he knew what came to him in sleep and was trying to avoid it, but when he wasn’t in public he appeared as unfeeling as ever.
Natasha spent the afternoon shopping. Initially, she had only intended to get a few items. It was good for their cover for her to be seen out, especially if it contributed to the idea of her materialism and unhappiness at home. While she was looking at scarves, she could feel eyes on her. She kept shopping, going from store to store, in the hopes that they would slip up and she could at least identify them or where they were so they wouldn’t follow her back the apartment. She was surprised and worried when she still hadn’t made them or lost them by the time the sun was setting.
She tried to call Dmitri to warn him about who might follow her home, but he didn’t pick up.
Fear rose in her chest. She still hadn’t made her stalker, and they had to be powerful if they had taken the Soldier out. The Widow needed to be prepared for the worse. Catastrophic mission failure.
Natasha had not been punished after a mission for several years now. She did not look forward to it.
She did her best to smile at the doorman as she entered. She wanted to take the stairs, but with her shopping bags that would be more suspicious. The elevator it was. Natasha would just have to be prepared.
As it turned out, the Soldier had not been incapacitated.
She found him in their bed, whimpering in his sleep.
Natasha knew that the man needed sleep. As far as she knew, he hadn’t slept in three days and even for a well trained man like himself that was getting dangerous. Especially if she had been followed, he would need to be in fighting shape.
She was about to close the door when she heard his whimpers turn into words.
“Barnes, James Buchanan. Sergeant. 32557038.”
Natasha had tortured enough men to know what those meant. The fact that he was speaking English was a surprise though.
She wanted to put out a search for the name, but she knew their search history would be monitored. She would have to pickpocket someone when she went out tomorrow.
The Soldier, James apparently, was still repeating his serial in his sleep.
Natasha moved to sit on the bed like she had the time before and nudged his shoulder.
Again, he woke quickly.
“James, where are you from?” she asked in English, curious how he would respond.
“Brooklyn,” he muttered, hands reaching up to wipe away the sleep from his eyes.
She smiled. More information. No wonder the Soldier didn’t sleep if he was this open when he woke up. Dangerous for missions. It bothered her that it had never been trained out of him. The Red Room would never allow it, which means they had not been the ones to train him.
“Who trained you?” she asked. James gave her an odd look, obviously unnerved by the interrogation after having been woken up.
“The US Army. Uh, sorry doll, but what’s your name again?”
Natasha ignored the question. It wasn’t uncommon to have defectors, but she was surprised he would be trusted on such high profile missions. They must have been sure he wasn’t a double agent.
“Why did you leave?”
His brow furrowed, before his face paled. She saw him reaching for his gun, but she was faster.
“Why did you leave?” she repeated, her pistol aimed at his head.
“I didn’t,” he said, moving his hands above his head. She cocked her head and waited. “Hydra took me. Molded me into their weapon.” Hydra was a name she had not expected. She’d only heard rumors.
He looked her in the eye then, and she could see the desperation there. “If you’re going to shoot me, do it to kill. I don’t want to go back there.”
“You’ve had plenty of opportunities to leave. Why haven’t you?” she asked, her gun still in place.
“Because I don’t always know who I am. The Widows have bedrooms. I remember seeing them. I don’t. I have a cryo-chamber. You were trained. I was… reprogrammed.” Natasha’s blood began to run cold.
“Programmed?”
“I don’t know what they call it. I don’t remember it well because that’s what they do. They take away memories. But it’s not perfect, that’s why they do it before every mission. I’m not… I’m not sure what they take. I don’t remember it. I just know it’s gone,” James explained.
Natasha lowered her weapon. She felt sick. She knew her role in the Red Room. She didn’t get choices, but she had her mind. To even imagine it being taken from her. Her knowledge and leverage and curiosity.
She had come to terms with a stolen childhood, with the blood on her hands.
She wasn’t sure she could come to terms with her own mind being violated.
“Go back to sleep, James,” she murmured. She didn’t know what man would wake up, but she wouldn’t be here to find out.
***
Someone is following her again. She knew the Red Room will come after her, but unless James called his handler immediately, it’s not them. She only took a small bag with money, weapons, an extra sweater, and IDs. She will have to buy or steal everything else she needs, but first she needed to deal with her tail.
She still hasn’t figured out who it is, but she can’t go on the run with someone on her back. Natasha isn’t sure she’d ever felt so much pressure on a mission.
Natasha traveled across the city to another neighborhood. It is a long walk, and she has to keep checking her surroundings. She picked a phone along the way, deciding to wait to make searched until later.
It’s cold out, as Russian winters are, and eventually she decides to stop. She ducked into a coffee shop, orders a coffee, and found her way to a seat in the corner with a good view of the establishment and the street beyond the window. She knew she was vulnerable so close to the window, but her tail has had plenty of opportunities to kill her and they haven’t taken any so far.
As she waited, constantly looking up to assess new customers, she pulled out the stolen phone and opened the internet tab. She typed into the search bar: James Buchanan Barnes.
It’s still loading when her tail arrived. She knew it was him, because despite his attempt to look casual, she could tell the way his eyes lingered over her. He was on the shorter side, with blond hair. The bulk of winter clothes made it impossible to get a good idea of his build and any weapons he had on him.
She watched as he got coffee, and gave a little wave as if seeing an old friend.
After a moment, he faked a smile and moved to sit across from her at the table.
“Why are you following me?” she asked, a sweet smile on her face.
“Because it seemed the better option than killing you,” the man responded with a shrug. “Can we do English?” So he was American. Supposed to kill her but didn’t.
“What changed your mind?” she asked. She often had second thoughts on missions, but she completed them without hesitation.
“Assassination isn’t the only way to eliminate a threat,” he explained. “So, I made a different call. I work for SHIELD, and I think you’d be an asset.”
Who the hell did this guy think he was that he could decide to try to recruit her instead of killing her? She had thought SHIELD would train their personnel better than this. Especially since they had been a thorn in the Red Room’s side for so long. She watched as he drank a disgusting amount of coffee in one gulp.
“You think I will feel indebted to you for not killing me so I will switch sides?” she asked.
“No, I think you leaving the Red Room will make you open to new employment. Plus we have great benefit packages,” he paused, reading her face for a moment. “You left the apartment by yourself, in average clothes, so you were no longer trying to be the lonely wife. That plus you not heading to a safe house when you made my tail - you’re trying to disconnect. I’m pretty good at noticing things.”
“I don’t trust you,” she pointed out. There was no way she could trust SHIELD to take her in. “What if I say no?”
“Then I have to complete my mission. And I really don’t want to do that.” It appeared he was telling the truth, but he was a spy too. Couldn’t be trusted.
He continued after a moment. “Plus, you left your partner alone at the apartment. SHIELD will want to take him out, or at the least bring him in for questioning.” Natasha froze. He didn’t deserve any more of their questioning. She wasn’t sure why, but she wanted to protect him. She’d have to examine that later, but for now, he was in danger. Under the table, she attempted to send him a text, warning him.
“I told you,” the man said, grabbing the phone from her before she had even managed to navigate away from the search results. “I’m good at seeing things.” His eyes glanced at the screen. “Why the hell are you looking up Bucky Barnes?” he asked, genuinely surprised.
“You know him?” she asked. Perhaps he’d been popular when he was in the army.
“Everybody knows him. He was Captain America’s right hand man. Died a hero in World War II,” he explained.
Well, that explained Hydra at least. And SHIELD had no idea.
She thought of James, alone in the hotel room. He was a liability to her on the run, but an asset if she were to defect. They would be grateful for their information. She would be returning a hero to them.
“I have a proposal,” said, a rare genuine smile on her face. She liked leverage.
***
Despite his reputation, the Winter Soldier was no longer a ghost story.
Natasha had been doubtful, but Clint had been right about SHIELD would see her as an asset. Bringing in a man who had known its founders didn’t hurt her case either.
She was protective of James, but she could see that SHIELD was helping James become a new person. He couldn’t go back to who he was before the war, but he could become his own person again. Regain his memories. It was a rigorous process, but she was with him every step of the way.
Six months after she defected and brought the Soldier with her, the announcement was made. He was doing well enough in his recovery that he was ready to make a statement. SHIELD allowed the US government to announce that a Russian agent discovered who the Soldier was and was inspired to bring him home.
They didn’t need to know that she had been terrified of her memories being torn away. They didn’t need to know that she had stayed with James during his recovery. So James Barnes got out on stage and told them how he had been held as a prisoner, experimented on and frozen in between uses.
They gave them more than enough for an emotional response and just enough that mainstream news didn’t want to ask too many questions, lest they make him relive it.
The American people were mostly ecstatic to have a war hero back.
SHIELD was excited to learn that super serum protected the body in sub-zero temperatures, and renewed efforts to located the Valkyrie. James would check in between missions sometimes, but updates were all reports of nothing.
Natasha knew that James was trying not to get his hopes up, but he was very bad at it.
“What can I say, I want to show him my best girl,” he said with a wink when it came up one afternoon.
She couldn’t help but smile and roll her eyes.
She still looked forward to missions with him.