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The sun was filtering through the white curtains in the bedroom, and faint sounds of birds singing filled the room. The rest of the house was still quiet, even though you knew there were plenty of people and about. After all, crime in the city never really rested.
You turned around in the silk sheets to look at the most beautiful woman in the world, who was sleeping beside you. It was once in a million times that she showed such a plain vulnerability around other people - and you were honoured to know that she did that so many more times with you.
She'd dyed her hair white again, and cut it short, even though you liked it better when it was her own colour - a vibrant red that highlighted her green eyes. She was breathing in and out slowly, completely relaxed, with one arm around your waist. You smiled as your eyes trailed over her face.
You'd met the Black Widow years ago, back when the world was still normal and the biggest adventure seemed to be leaving the city.
You'd both been young, and in love, and everything seemed so perfect back then. But well, good things never lasted.
After graduating, you'd visited her home once, but found she was gone. Everything was gone, and she hadn't even left a message. With a broken heart and way more anger than you wished to have, you returned home.
You studied excessively, moving to Atlanta for a few years and getting your PhD Doctorate in Arts and then you worked under a few top chefs, learning a lot of neat tricks yourself. Then you moved back home, to take care of your mother, who was slowly slipping away into the darker corners of life, and you set up a studio. The first few years were hard. You had to work two jobs, and you didn't get nearly enough money.
And then, one day, you were in the bank where one of your friends worked.
- - -
"Morning!" You greeted everyone with a smile, putting the basket on the counter. Alec smiled widely at you. "I brought you the usual," you told, lifting the cloth to show all kinds of pastries. Alec's smile widened, if that was even possible, and he thanked you by slipping you a twenty dollar bill, which you took gratefully, because you needed the money.
"I don't want to hold you up too long," he said, leaning forward on the counter, "but I was wondering if you could make the birthday cake for my little girl." Your eyes widened in surprise, and then you smiled. "I'd love to do that, Alec!" You said, overjoyed. "I'm honoured you chose me." "You're a great chef, Y/N," he said, "and I mean that." You blushed slightly, opening your mouth to say something, when suddenly, the doors blasted open.
"On the ground! On the ground!" You heard, and then gunshots rang through the building. You immediately shrunk, trying to keep yourself safe. You closed your eyes tightly, wishing this wasn't real. It had to be a dream. It just had to.
Minutes passed, but they felt like hours, and then there were footsteps coming your way.
"You there!" A loud voice barked, "Show your face!"
You felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against your forehead, and so you slowly lifted your face, looking up at the men in cold fear. The sweat was starting to pour down your back, and you could feel your breath quicken. If this was how you were going to die....
But then the eyes of the man who had pushed the gun against your head widened. He dropped it like it was hot, and he cursed, loudly.
"Get out of here!" He then called. "Tell everyone to get out of here!"
"B-but why?" A younger man asked, and he pointed at you. The younger man took a good look at you, and then he paled. You frowned. What in the world was happening?
"Th-that's Y/N," he whispered, "she's on the Widow's no-harm list."
If possible, your frown deepened. What was he talking about?
Then, one of them picked up the gun, and they quickly left.
- - -
For some stupid reason, you'd followed them outside that day, and by the time the police arrived, there were only a few who were still running to find a hiding place.
One of them had been shot, and you recognized him as the man who spared your life. Without knowing why exactly, you caught up with him and pulled him into an alleyway. Then, you'd pulled him against you and slung your arms around his neck.
"Pretend to kiss me," you'd whispered harshly, "if you don't want to end up in jail."
The police passed the alley with blearing sirens, and the man quickly disappeared, leaving you alone and dazed.
- - -
You caressed her cheek. "Good morning," she whispered, her words a bit slurry, as she opened her eyes and looked at you. You sunk down in the pillows, putting your head on her chest. "Good morning," you whispered back, letting your fingers trace patterns on her leg.
A comfortable silence stretched between the two of you. You knew she had to leave - she had jobs today - but you didn't want her to go. It was such a dangerous thing to do, this whole mob thing, and you were always scared to death for her whenever she came back with bruises and blood.
"Do you really have to leave?" You murmured, legs still tangled in the sheets, turning your head to meet her eyes. The redhead smiled down at you. "I do, моя любовь." You leaned in for a sweet kiss, and tried to blink away the salty tears already forming in your eyes. "I don't want you to." "I know, дорогой. I know." She caressed your cheek. "But I'll be fine. I'm a big girl who can stand up for herself, and the guys have got my back."
You still remembered looking for her. She wasn't that hard to find after all, and before you knew it, you'd been standing in front of a seemingly empty warehouse. You'd knocked on the door three times, and it opened just slightly.
- - -
"Who's there?" A rough voice answered. You'd worn a scarf that day, to cover up your face. "Y/N," you decided to say as blatantly as you could. "Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here to see Black Widow."
The door had already opened widely at the mention of your name, and revealed a muscled man with long dark hair wrapped in a bun, and a metal arm. You tried not to pay any attention to it, and you kept your mouth shut as you followed the man through the hallways. There were many people around, staring at you with wide eyes, whispering as subtly as they could.
The man with the bun knocked on a door, two times quickly, and one time a few seconds after the last.
"Come in," a voice said, which you still recognized. It gave you goose bumps all over. Her voice was still as smooth and sultry as ever.
The man pushed the door open.
"Y/N Y/L/N is here to see you," he said, pushing you inside. If you'd turned your head just slightly you would have been able to see the almost visible jump she made in her chair.
You turned your head just a bit too late. Her face was impassive. "Leave us, James," she commanded, and the man did without asking any questions, closing the door behind him.
Then she turned to you. Her long red hair was curled, and loose on her shoulders. Her green eyes were glittering in the sunlight pouring through the big windows of the office you were in. She was sitting at a glass desk, with a laptop in front of her. There was an empty mug on the desk, with a few books next to it, and there was a bin under it that was empty for as far as you could see. The rest of the office consisted of two couches, two armchairs, a thick rug with a coffee table and a big wooden bookcase filled to the notch with books. They were strange things to notice in that short time, but you'd always been the strange one out of the two of you.
"Didn't peg you for keeping fashion magazines in your office," you chose to say, eyeing the magazines on the couch, partially covered by blankets and pillows.
She snorted softly, you could hear, but tried to cover it up. With a soft cough, she got up from her seat and made her way to stand in front of her desk, leaning against it.
You smiled. She looked beautiful as ever. Even more beautiful than she used to, you believed.
"So," you said, stepping just a bit closer, touching one of the books on her desk, "you've placed me on your no-harm list, I heard?" You raised an eyebrow at her, and you could clearly see her swallow thickly. Your faces were so, so close together, and you felt like your own face was burning, but you tried to keep your look impassive and cool.
"It's not really a list," she said, clearing her throat. "And it's not really no-harm, either."
"Oh?" Your other eyebrow went up in the air as well, and you thought that for sure it had to be a comical sight - the two of you. You were dressed in ripped skinny jeans, with black sneakers, a red sweater and a leather jacket over it, while she was dressed impeccably in a tight black dress that reached her knees, with high heels under it.
"I just said I want them to leave you alone."
You stayed silent after that, letting your eyes trail through the room - to let them be anywhere but on her, because you weren't sure what you'd do if that happened.
"I'm sorry," she eventually broke the silence, and you looked up at her.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N-"
"You should have thought about that before," you said softly, now letting your fingers touch hers. She didn't pull her hand away, luckily, which gave you all the confidence you needed.
You gathered up your courage and looked up at her, taking in her beautiful features, and almost drowning in her eyes. It was like falling in love with someone all over again.
"Will you let me explain?" She asked, and you pursed your lips, looking at her for a while before nodding.
She lead you to the couch, and explained.
- - -
"Don't do this to me," she softly said as you clung to her waist. You sighed, dropping your arms. She sighed too, and stepped out of bed in all her naked glory. You watched her walk into the bathroom, presumably to wash herself and put some clothes on. Two minutes later, you could hear the shower going on and the water running.
You sighed deeply, again. Then you stepped out of bed too. It could be the last time we'll wake up like this, you thought. That scared you. It could be the last time you'd be able to kiss her, and feel her hands against your skin. You wanted to savour every moment of it all.
You dropped your nightgown on the floor, and pinned your long hair up, to make sure it would stay dry. She was humming softly in the shower. You smirked. She probably already expected you to be there. When you stepped into the shower, and under the hot water, you let out a sigh of relief. She was watching you with her beautiful eyes, smiling deviously as if she knew something you didn't.
"Tasha," you sighed, "spit it out. I just want to enjoy a nice hot shower with you-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before she lunged forward and grabbed your waist, turning you just a bit to make sure your lips met hers in a feverish kiss. "I love you," she mumbled against your lips, and then she repeated it in Russian, while her hands slid over your legs.
"Let me do this," she mumbled when you tried to push her hands away. "But you're going to be late," you whispered, and she lifted her head to look you in the eye. "They'll wait for me. You're way more important to me than any of them." You knew that was a pretty harsh statement to make, especially in an environment like this. Everything in the mob turned around family and trust and having each other's backs. Your thoughts about that evaporated as soon as you felt her hands tease you a bit, and you bit back a moan when she moved her hand just a bit.
She kissed your neck. "Just let me love you," she said, and you nodded, your hips bucking into her hands, and pressing your lips tight against each other.
- - -
You'd gone away after her explanation all those years ago. You'd left without a word, and she'd let you go. Your cab driver picked you up, and you stayed in your room for about four hours. After that, you were ready to face the world again.
You picked up your daily life as always. You got up in the morning at four am, and prepared the last pastry orders of your clients, checked to see if your paintings were dry yet, and then you made breakfast for your mother, handed her her pills, and disappeared into your studio. In the late afternoon, you went to the supermarket and you made a simple dinner for you and your mother to enjoy while watching a movie, and then you went through your finances.
It was easy and normal.
Until one day, you stumbled on a big envelope on your doormat. You picked it up. It was quite heavy. What could be inside? Who had sent you mail anyways? You turned to envelope in your hands, but there was nothing on it. Not even a letter.
Frowning, you sat down at the kitchen table, and you opened it. You were almost scared to find drugs or weapons in there. Instead, there was money. It poured onto the table, and as you flipped the envelope away, you noticed a yellow note on top of the money.
Just a little gift for you.
Keep fighting.
That was all it said. You pursed your lips, because you already knew who it was. But you weren't about to turn down this money. You really needed it. And you didn't even want to begin to think about how they acquired the money.
And so you paid your bills, and you paid for a plumber, and you paid your last college fees.
Life was even easier after that. Each month, a large sum of money would appear on your doormat. Sometimes they were accompanied by a note - always carrying the same message - and on other days there were no notes.
And then, one day, there was a letter. It wasn't even the beginning of a new month yet, but still you received a bit of money and a letter. There was a small box wrapped in colourful paper too.
You read the letter first, quickly scanning it and letting the words sink deep into your skin.
.....I'm so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't have left.... you read.
And .....I just wanted it to be better. You could have so much better than me.....
But when you reached the last line, your breath got caught in your throat.
I love you. I've always loved you, and I don't think I will ever stop loving you.
What were you supposed to do? You hadn't known then, and you couldn't even think of something now.
- - -
"I'm going," she said, nuzzling your neck. You turned around, quickly tightening the cords of your Japanese kimono around your waist. "Can I at least watch you off?" You asked, and she nodded with a faint smile.
You did.
You kissed her softly on the lips, for what felt like the last time, and you pushed your tears away as she stepped into the car, and they drove away.
"They'll be okay," Steve said, squeezing your shoulder. You sighed deeply. "I hope so." Your throat was tight, and you retreated to your bedroom to cry.
- - -
On a beautiful day in Spring, weeks after her last letter, you came back home from the graveyard, visiting your mother's stone. She had died. Just age, the doctors supposed, and her weak immune system.
You couldn't even bring it up in yourself to cry. You wanted to, you really did, but the tears just wouldn't come.
The doorbell rung. You didn't rush to open it. They knew you needed time to come to yourself for a while. You'd even stopped taking commissions for at least a month, and no pastries either. Your clients understood. They sent their condolences, of course, and that was a kind gesture. But right now, you just needed to be alone.
You opened the door, and your eyes widened in surprise when you saw a familiar woman in front of you. She smiled at you. "Hello," she said softly, and without a sound, you let her in. You stood in front of each other in the hallway for a while, before she surged forward and caught your head in her hands and captured your lips in a soaring kiss. Your stomach leaped, and you clutched to her like she was a lifeline. And maybe she was.
After that, you laid tightly against each other on your bed, heaving. Your legs were tangled with hers, and your head was on her chest. And then there the soft stinging in your eyes, and before you knew it, you started crying.
She didn't say anything. She only wrapped her arms around you and pulled you on her lap, rocking you back and forth while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
You never thought it was possible to fall back in love again. But now you were sure it was.
- - -
"Y/N?" Steve's voice sounded worried. You looked up from the papers on your desk, seeing him enter and close the door.
He seemed to have a problem in choosing emotions. There was fear, worry and anger in his eyes.
"What's wrong?" You asked, even though the sinking feeling in your stomach was screeching, "Something happened! It's her, it's her!"
"Y/N," he started softly, and when your eyes met his, you already knew. "No," you said, getting up. "I'm not staying here and waiting. You're either going to drive me, Rogers, or I'll drive myself."
He followed you silently.
It was raining outside, but you didn't care that it wet your freshly washed hair, and that it made your hair curl, or that it made your kimono wet and almost see-through. Steve started the car, and drove you away. As soon as you were on the road, you closed your eyes and leaned against the window.
- - -
"It's going to be dangerous!" You yelled. "You can't just say that you want a family while you're out there doing god knows what and killing people and saving people and risking your goddamn life!"
"But don't you want a family, Y/N?" She pleaded. "Don't you want someone to take care of? Don't you want someone else to love except me, and maybe if I die, that you have something left of me?"
"But I don't want a part of you!" You now screamed, and then you collapsed on the sofa, sobbing. "I don't want a part of you," you repeated weakly, and you lifted your head to look at her.
"I want you as a whole person." Your voice croaked, and she was with you in two steps, wrapping her arms around you.
"You can have me as a whole person," she promised, "you will have me as a whole person. And then you will have other people as whole persons in your life. Our family. Please, любить. Just think about it."
- - -
You pushed your tears away. You had to focus on getting there first, and getting everyone help.
"We're almost there," Steve said. He sounded so incredibly calm. You looked at him. He was frowning and his hands were wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel that his knuckles were white. Oh. Yeah. Bucky was there too. Oh god, you hoped for the both of them that Bucky was still alive. He had to be alive. And if he was and she wasn't....
You swallowed away the lump in your throat as Steve parked the car. Immediately, you jumped out. You were at an abandoned terrain with old warehouses. There were almost no cars there, and Steve quickly guided you through the buildings.
You stopped in your tracks when you saw a small group of men huddled together. Steve was still holding your arm tightly, but you knew he was looking for Bucky. You touched his hand and he looked at you. "Go," you whispered with a soft smile, "go and find him."
"Bucky!" He yelled, "Buck!"
You smiled when you saw one of the men step away from the group and run into Steve's arms. There were more wounded and dead on the ground. You didn't see Bucky's sad look directed at you as you passed. The group parted ways to make a path for you, and you held your breath when you saw blood on the ground.
Nobody said a word, however, as you reached the inner circle. You held in your breath, trying to prepare yourself for what you could see as you stepped forward.
Nothing could ever be worse than what you see. Not even your imagination.
There wasn't even that much blood, but the sight of her lying on the ground, with her head in someone's lap, all pale and shaky, took your breath away.
"Tasha," you croaked, and you faintly heard Steve tell the men to disperse and leave you alone as you fell to your knees next to her.
"Hey," she smiled at you. "Hey, don't cry. I'll be fine." She wiped away a tear, and you quickly caught her hand and pressed it against your cheek.
"I'll be fine, Y/N. But shit," she pulled a face, "that hurts. But, hey," you leaned down to kiss her, "we can start a family now. We can have kids," she babbled on, while you stopped suppressing your tears entirely, and let them fall.
She fell silent, and then she closed her eyes. "Y/N?" She then said, and she opened her eyes again, looking at you. Her emerald green eyes were brimming with tears. "Will you stay with me?" You took her hand in yours and squeezed it. "Of course I will," you whispered, "I always will, Tasha. I'm always here with you." You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before looking at her.
"I want a safe life with you," she mumbled, frowning, "I just want to wake up to you in bed, Y/N. I love you, do you know that?"
You nodded. "I love you too baby, so, so much."
She smiled. "I know."
Silence stretched between everyone as her life slowly slipped away. You squeezed her hand even tighter.
"Don't do this," you softly sobbed, "Don't leave me. Please, please, please god, please don't let her leave me." You looked up the sky, as the rain was pouring down. You didn't care. It felt right for the sky to be crying. "Please," you whispered, as your tears mixed with rain, "please." You bowed your head, softly sobbing as your entire body shook. "No, no, no."
Her hand was limp in yours. She was cold.
"No!" You yelled. You let all your muscles relax, and toppled on her body, her head on her chest. "No, no, no, not you. Not you, baby, please." How could anything ever be okay again? How could it be normal without her?
"No!" You were sure you screamed now, but it was the only way. How could any god let this happen? How could they take her away from you, after all this time? "No!" A sob wrecked through your body.
It was still pouring when Bucky returned from helping the last men in the truck. He heard someone scream, and flinched. That was definitely Y/N. It meant that she'd found Natasha... He couldn't even begin to think about what she was going through.
"No!" He heard her scream, and he felt Steve's arm around his waist. Bucky bit his lip as he watched your hunched form over Natasha's body. Your entire body was shaking and the rain was pouring down at you, but you didn't seem to care.
"What do we do now?" He asked softly. He looked at Steve, whose face was grim.
"We do what she asked us to do," Steve said, determined. "We protect her and have her back."
"She's going to take over when I die."
"Natasha, you can't just say that, you don't know if you-" "I know, Steve, I know. But it's better to have this planned already. She will take it over. And you two are going to have her back. I need your word for it."
"You have our word."