Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Natasha always knew that she would die on the job. She was the best at what she did but she knew her luck would run out eventually and she’d find herself in a spot where even her impressive skills wouldn’t be able to help her. Still, as cheesy as it sounds she always envisioned herself going out in a blaze of glory, not as some blubbering broken mess.
Well, she might be a mess and she was definitely broken but she’d be dead long before she ever started blubbering!
She gazed up at the blood dripping from the strands of her red hair that had fallen into her face. By the way she felt she could only imagine what she must look like.
So, no open casket at her private military funeral then? She snorted at her own joke but immediately regretted it as every inch of her aching body screamed out in protest.
“Ow,” She croaked.
She was tied to a metal chair in the middle of a dark dank room in the basement of some building in the middle of God-only-knows-where, Russia. Well, based on the language and accents she guessed she was in some god-forsaken little town bordering Latvia. She hung her head and waited for her captors to return to finish the job. They might not have wanted to kill her just yet but none of them were particularly well versed in the fine art of torture and she knew she probably wouldn’t survive another round.
She had been on a covert mission in Moscow, a relatively easy Intelligence Smash ‘n Grab when she was compromised. She still had no idea how they’d pinged her. She was meeting with an informant when something had stung her shoulder and everything had gone dark. When she finally came to she was tied to the chair; head pounding and teeth chattering from the cold.
That must have been at least four days ago but she couldn’t be sure as there was no way of telling the time and as far as she could tell her torturers came and went sporadically. There was no routine to their machinations. Something they did purposefully to keep her disorientated she assumed. Well, it had worked.
Somewhere in the distance there was a rumble and the building above her shook. She could hear muffled shouting and the short sharp bursts of AK47s. There was an explosion somewhere closer and the building shook again. Cracks had formed in the ceiling and pieces were falling to the ground around her. At least being crushed by a building falling on her would deny her captors the satisfaction of claiming the death of the infamous Black Widow as their own! She closed her eyes and did the only thing she could do, she waited.
Inevitably the fight came downstairs. She could hear men grunting and the thump of fists on flesh as well as the occasional pop pop pop of a pistol just outside her makeshift cell. Suddenly the door burst open so violently that it nearly came off its rusted hinges and heavy footsteps rushed towards her.
She glanced up and froze, her furrowed brows turning into a scowl, “What the hell took you so long?” she said before her head drooped and she slumped forward utterly spent and exhausted.
Bucky kicked open the only locked door on the basement level. It gave way with little resistance and slammed back into the room.
“Fuck!” he swore violently as he rushed forward. “Natasha! God dammit, Natasha! Hey!” he grabbed her face between his large hands careful not to hurt her with his metal fingers and tapped her lightly on the least of her damaged cheeks. She let out a soft groan and he swore again. “Come on, we need to get out of here, this piece of crap building is on its last legs.” He made quick work of the ropes around her wrists and ankles and she slumped forward into his chest.
Bucky picked up Natasha and cradled her to his chest like he would a small child. “Steve? I’ve got her. She’s breathing but we need a medivac ASAP.”
“Roger, understood. Where are you?” Steve’s voice crackled in his ear and he could hear his friend grunting as he dispatched another one of the bastards.
“Basement level, East wing.”
“Can you make it to the entrance on the first floor?”
Bucky looked up at the ceiling as it started to crumble and pieces of concrete started raining down on them. “Yeah,” he said as he clutched Natasha closer to him so he could protect her as much as possible from the disintegrating building and started making his way towards the rendezvous point.
Steve ran up to them as soon as he saw Bucky round the corner of the staircase that lead into the hallway. “Tony is on his way with air support. We have to ge-“ His words were cut off mid-sentence as Bucky all but threw Natasha into his arms and flung them out of the way. Steve immediately curled in over Natasha as the intense heat and shrapnel of an explosion ripped into his back.
As soon as the debris had settled Steve anxiously checked on Natasha. She was still alive. Barely.
“Tony, we need extraction, now!”
“Sit tight, Cap, I’m almost there.”
Through the ringing in his ears Steve could hear the thumping of rotor blades. He looked back down at Natasha and brushed her hair out of her face. Her once beautiful features were marred by cuts and bruises and not for the first time he found himself wishing they could leave this life behind. Just get out. A new start.
The building rumbled again. It was going to collapse. They were out of time.
“Cap, I’m sending the Iron Man suit down to you. You need to put Natasha in it so that Friday can do a preliminary assessment. Then you need to haul ass.”
The suit was there before Tony had finished speaking. Steve gently placed Natasha into it and watched as it closed around her like a protective cocoon and blasted off to the waiting helicopter.
The building started to disintegrate around him. “Come on, Buck. We need to go.” He turned around but his friend wasn’t there. “Bucky? Bucky!” He started forward but stopped as he saw a metal hand sticking out from under a pile of rubble.
“Oh, God! Bucky!” he rushed forward but before he could reach him the Iron Man suit grabbed him from behind and shot into the sky.
“It’s too late, Steve!” Tony’s voice was harsh in his ear.
“No, Tony! Let me go! I have to go get Bucky!”
“Steve! Look!”
Steve stopped struggling in the iron embrace as the building finally collapsed. It died with an awful sound. Metal screaming as it twisted beyond recognition and concrete roaring as it crumbled to dust.
“No,” he whispered. A single tear falling down his cheek as he numbly allowed himself to be taken up into the helo.