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Discovering Trust || Natasha & Nick

Natasha placed her half eaten apple slowly and deliberately on the table crossing her arms as she looked at Nick, one eyebrow raised as he spoke. She could see that he was being open with her, could see the way that her words had affected him. But then, he was one of the best in the game, knew how to give a performance if he wanted to. He hadn’t stayed at the helm of an agency like SHIELD for as long as he had by giving away anything that he didn’t want to.

She narrowed her eyes, considering him, considering each gesture, each subtle physical tell as she listened to his words. It was enough to tell her that he was in fact being completely genuine with her. She sat back slightly, crossing one leg over the other, reaching out to pick up her apple once again, taking another bite, relishing the purposely vicious crunch as she did. She let the silence hang between them as he finished speaking, knowing as she did precisely what she was doing.

He had hurt her. Had betrayed something that was more important to her than mere friendship. He had betrayed her trust and the familial bonds that had been between them. She could easily forgive anger, a difference of opinion, could forgive arguments and fights. Those were things that she could take in her stride. It was the betrayal of trust that hit the hardest. The fact that he had not thought enough of her, hadn’t trusted her enough to take her into his confidence. He hadn’t had the faith in her that she had believed that she had.

“You know, when I first found out that Coulson was alive, it was from James? Not from you, not from Coulson himself, but from James. A note that he left me because Coulson had sworn him to silence on the fact that he was alive, on your orders.” She bared her teeth in a parody of a smile. “Do you know, Nick, what that made me think?”

She paused again for a moment, her voice cold and calm as she spoke. “It made me come to the conclusion that no matter how many years it has been, no matter what I have done for you, no matter how many missions I have been on, how many times I have put my life on the line for you and for the agency, that I am still nothing more than what I was when I came in to you. A killer with blood on her hands and a reputation, a Russian assassin from the Red Room, not to be trusted, to be used as an asset.” She almost spat the last word at him, unholy rage filling her. “Do you know what that feels like? Because since I came to SHIELD, since Clint gave me that second chance, I have fought against that with everything that I have.”

Natasha watched him carefully. “You are right. You cannot fix the things that you have done. And I want to believe what you say. There is no fixing what you have done, there is only moving forward from this point.” She fixed him with a pointed look. “Clint gave me a second chance. James was given a second chance. Now I am giving you one.”

Nick listened to her, focused on her words and the way she said them. The fact that she was giving him a second chance, he didn’t deserve it. He scrubbed a hand over his head, realizing that he hadn’t even bothered to put on his eye patch. But honestly, she had seen him in worse ways. He found himself focusing on the floor between his feet. He gave it some thought before he spoke again.

“You’re better than your past. You may have been a killer then, but you’re no longer that person. SHIELD, Hydra, the Red Room. None of them can hold anything over your head anymore.” Nick wished more for her to finally be free of everything than for her to carry the weight of things that weren’t her fault. She could preach to others until her tongue bled from the hypocrisy, but until she finally gave herself the same level of trust.

“I don’t deserve a second chance from you. But if you’re willing to give it to me, I will do my best to earn it… You deserve better for both the sake of you and your husband…” Nick shuffled his foot a moment and he looked over at Nat and tried for a smile. It didn’t last but for a moment. He wished he knew how to take back time. “I trust you, Natasha… I trust you more than I know how to explain. I have never had a family until you came to SHIELD. I tried to do my best to make you know you’re welcome. You should have come to me sooner when you found out… I’m sorry you had to carry that.”

#discovering trust #the-avengers-initiative-director #thisisjustlikebudapest

Natasha crossed her arms as she listened, her gaze fixed on him, watching him as he spoke, taking stock of his every word, not letting her face give her away. Speaking about those things, letting that anger go was something that made her feel vulnerable in a way that she preferred not to, made her give away more of herself than she was necessarily comfortable with. It was part of her MO to be comfortable with anything and everything when it was part of her job. When it came to something so personal, that touched so deeply on who she truly was, and what she truly felt, that was something that was still more difficult.

“Perhaps I should have come to you sooner, when I found out about Coulson.” She admitted with a slight shrug, uncrossing her arms, linking her fingers together in a graceful motion, allowing them to rest on her knees as she regarded him. “But if I’m honest with you, it was something that was too raw. I was so very angry, absolutely livid, and I still am, but that anger has had time to cool at least.” Which she knew Bucky would say made it all the more deadly, but she knew that she had control, had made the decision to give Coulson a second chance, and Fury as well.

Just as she had been given.

“I mourned him, Nick. I buried him and I grieved in private for him. He was my friend you know, was one of the few people that I trusted. And you took that away. I just want you to realise just how difficult that was.” She paused and sighed, thinking back once again over the years, over the decades.

“You have, until this incident, made me feel as though SHIELD was where I was meant to be. Or at least, if it wasn’t SHIELD, that I was best placed working for you, with Clint, with Coulson. With the Avengers. Hopefully we can regain that once again. Because much though I’ve been beyond angry, and hurt, I have missed you, even if you are a conniving, duplicitous bastard.” She gave a soft huff of a laugh as she admitted that.

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buckynat + alexander pierce and madame b (requested by anon)

#howlingwintercommando #thisisjustlikebudapest #gifs

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Natasha Romanoff Aesthetic

#thisisjustlikebudapest

Most wonderful time of the year | Natasha and Bucky

The plane ride passed in a blur.

He knew that he was talking to Natasha, knew at the time what he was saying, but it was getting steadily harder to concentrate, to focus on what she was saying in return. He could see the tight look in her expression, the way that there was a frowning concern in her eyes that belied her lighthearted teasing that he returned as much as he could, the distraction a welcome one, keeping him there with her, stopping him slipping away.

“Nat?” He hated the way his voice cracked over her name.

“Still here.”

“If I pass out, what are you gonna do to me? ‘Cos I don’t think that’s far off now…”

“Kick your ass from here to Siberia and back. Do you really need to ask?” Her words held a hard edge, but the way that she moved closer, her fingers running through his hair in a tender gesture as with her other had she curled her fingers round his told another story.

A slight laugh escaped him and he shifted slightly, head resting against the side of the aircraft. “Fucked then aren’t I?”

“Succinctly put.”

The landing was unpleasant, the trip to the medical lab even more so. Actually being there was what put him most on edge however, made him feel as though his skin was crawling, a sensation of dread seeping through him mixed with resignation and fear, something that he knew was entirely unfounded, that where he was was nothing like where he had been. And yet the feelings continued, were enough to make him fall silent completely, enough to make him force himself to just focus on Natasha, keep her as his mainstay as she stood watch.

It all blurred into one the following hours as he allowed them to sedate him, to deal with the worst that Hydra had dished out, knowing that Natasha was there and wasn’t going anywhere, wouldn’t allow anything to happen without her consent, without her knowing exactly what they were doing. It was a trust in her that he held that she held in return.

When he came round again it was in one of the medical bay beds with Natasha still in her mission gear, sat on a chair next to him, legs stretched out long, feet crossed up on the side of the bed. “You’re awake then.”

“Seems so.” He blinked and shook his head, taking a slow, experimental breath before giving her a frank look, pulling himself together. “We goin’ home?”

“That sounds like a question but it’s not a question is it?” There was a familiar hint of amusement in her voice as she spoke.

“Nope. It ain’t.” He drew in another slow breath, reaching across to untape the IV line from the back of his hand, slowly and carefully pulling it out, ignoring the trickle of blood that followed and the way the solution dripped onto the covers of the bed in a way that made Natasha roll her eyes at him. “It’s time to get the fuck outta here. M’not gonna keel over…and…”

“I know. You can’t stay here. I get it. You know that I do. Which means that I’m taking you home, but when I do, I’m in charge when we get there. Got it?”

He chuckled softly and nodded, giving her a half smile. “Yeah. I got it doll.”

#most wonderful time of the year #howlingwintercommando #thisisjustlikebudapest

When they got back to their apartment Natasha closed the door behind them, watching for a moment as Bucky turned slightly, leaning back against the wall of the hallway, closing his eyes for a few moments. She dropped both their packs onto the floor, taking his hand, wordlessly leading him through to the bathroom so they could get cleaned up, changed and leave their missions behind them.

The fact that he stayed quiet, just let her silently make him do what she wanted simply drove home exactly what he, and they had just been through. But there was time to deal with that after they were settled, once they were done. When they’d cleaned up and got changed into comfortable clothes she stopped and looked at him, knowing that it was just force of will keeping him going at that point, that there was nothing more behind it. “Couch or bed?”

He took a moment to focus on her then gave her a crooked smile, the expression achingly familiar and reassuring in its effect. “Couch.”

“Go on then. I’m going to get us something to drink, and something to eat.” She knew that it was needed, was something that they both needed despite the fact that all she wanted at that moment was to be with him, physically with him as a reassurance to herself. Yet it was not time for that.

When she left the kitchen, a tray in her hands she paused for a moment, looking into the lounge. Bucky was there, sprawled out on the couch, half-watching a nature documentary on the TV, the noise a soft constant in the background. The lights were low and warm, and as she came in he looked up at her with a soft smile. He looked tired, too tired, and far younger than he should, his hair mussed, eyes sleepy, his well worn grey t-shirt riding up slightly above black sweatpants.

She couldn’t help the answering smile that she gave him, the warm affection that flowed through her as she went to join him, putting the tray down on the table. “Drink...”

“In a minute. You gonna come here, doll?”

“You sure?” She raised one eyebrow as she looked at him, considering, seeing him roll his eyes at her.

“It’s a big couch. C’mon.”

With a half-shrug she moved forward, getting onto the couch with him, pulling a cushion down on top of his left arm, lying her head on his shoulder as he slowly and carefully wrapped his arms round her, as she pressed close, feeling the warmth of him against her, the solid, physical reality of him. She drew in a slow breath, feeling him do the same, his face pressed against her hair as she tangled her legs with his, just needing that kind of certainty, letting go, allowing her walls to come down, the facade to drop, letting herself be unashamedly vulnerable with him as he was with her.

“I was scared.” She admitted finally, the words quiet. She felt his hands tighten on her a little and she looked up at him, seeing the understanding there in his face, knowing that he had felt the same when she had been captured, knew that he understood what she was going through, what she had gone through.

“Not goin’ anywhere, doll. M’always gonna come home to you.”

“We both know that neither of us can promise that.”

“No. But I can promise that I will always do everything that I can to come home for you, to come home to you. That’s what I promise you.” There was pure honesty in his words, something that she knew she could hold on to, something sure and certain. “I love you, doll.”

She smiled slightly at that as he gently kissed her, sweet and tender in a way that made her soul ache as she kissed him back. “You too, idiot.” She murmured as they moved apart and she rested her head back down on his shoulder again. “And if you ever do anything like that again...”

“You know, I even said to myself that you were gonna kill me.” There was a satisfied, comfortable tone to his words that made her laugh, a genuine smile on her lips as he said it.

“You know me too well.” She turned her head slightly, just to press a light kiss to his jaw. “Don’t do that again. I don’t like having to play knight errant to your damsel in distress you know.”

“Mmm. Can’t say it was that amusing on my side either.” He kissed her hair lightly. “Y’know, we managed it...”

“What?”

“S’Christmas. We got home for Christmas.”

Most wonderful time of the year | Natasha and Bucky

As the door opened and Natasha came in he felt at first a flash of shock, followed by the thought that it was a hallucination, that it was something that his mind had conjured up. Except everyone else there saw her too, those who had held him, had decided to reclaim him, had tortured him, they saw her too.

For only a brief time though.

Her first shots were made with calm precision and he saw the savage smile that came to her face with a measure of satisfaction as she went to work.

It was beautiful.

Even where he was, in the situation that he was in he could appreciate that, could appreciate the way that she made killing into an artform, the way she flowed, the way that she was swift, precise, drawing them in to a deadly dance. He didn’t know how she had got there, didn’t know how she had found him, but she had, she had found him and she was there, saving him, taking down the enemy with brutal efficiency and grace.

There was sudden silence.

She stood for a moment, head bowed amidst the carnage that she had wreaked before she turned and moved over to him, wordlessly freeing him from the bonds that had held him down, her face unreadable. He knew though from that alone just how hard it had hit her, just how afraid she had been and he knew that was something that she would not admit to, not straight away, not until that edge had gone, she would hold it in until they were home and they were safe.

Slowly he pushed himself up, sitting on the edge of the table, the world spinning for a few seconds before he felt her hands on his shoulders, focused on her face in front of him. He could see the way that her eyes were gleaming, over bright and she swallowed before she shook her head.

“You idiot.” Her voice was not much more than a murmur but still somehow her words were crystal clear. “You absolute idiot, James…”

And then she was kissing him, her hands coming to cup his face, the kiss fierce and needy and he instinctively reached out, pulling her in closer. “Natasha…” Her name was pulled from him and he could hear the way that his voice cracked over her name, throat raw as he spoke. He knew that he was a sliver away from passing out, but he couldn’t find it in him to care at that moment, the overwhelming relief flooding through him taking away that thought, that feeling.

“We need to get home.” And there was her no nonsense tone once again, covering up emotion, stuffing it down until they had time for it, until they could deal with what they had both just been through. First there were practicalities to be dealt with, like getting out of there. “Can you make it out to the surface? I can get the pilot to bring the plane back round and pick us up.”

He swallowed and nodded, standing up, feeling the world swim around him once again, fingers gripping the edge of the table as he forced himself to stay awake, stay there in the room. “Yeah, yeah I got this, doll.” He moved forward a pace, sheer force of will the only thing keeping him upright as he felt her arm go round him, his arm round her shoulders as they headed out for the surface. It was getting harder and harder to stay focused, to push the pain aside as they went. He vaguely registered Natasha communicating with the pilot, calling him in to pick them up.

Then somehow they were at the top of the steps leading out to the night outside, clear sky above, icy air biting and vicious, the snow deep and powdery around them.

#Most wonderful time of the year #howlingwintercommando #thisisjustlikebudapest

She could feel a maelstrom of emotions beneath the surface, forced herself to keep herself completely in hand, totally in check as they made their way from the room where they’d been holding James prisoner up to the outside world. As they made their way up she radioed through to the pilot to give him their co-ordinates and where to pick them up from. She knew that he was not far out and that he would be there swiftly enough.

The air as they came to the surface was cold enough that it seared down her throat, almost burning into her lungs, stinging against her exposed skin. She looked up at James, leaning against her, his arm round her shoulders, hers round his waist. He was pale, far too pale, almost grey aside from the dark trail of blood from his lip and another long, dark trail from a cut on his cheek and another from his forehead. She could feel the stickiness of blood beneath her hand where it curled round his side, could smell the metallic, sickly tang of it amidst the scents of smoke, sweat and gunpowder.

It made her feel once again the same overwhelming rage that she had experienced when she had opened the door to the laboratory and had seen the scientists there, had seen the guards and what they were doing to him, to her partner, her husband. Their deaths had been in her view too swift, but time was of the essence and there was no time for vengeance, no time for anything more than dispatching them all as swiftly and efficiently as she could. She knew too, in the back of her mind that by torturing them as they had him she would only briefly apply salve to her anger. In the cold light of day she would know that she had sunk to their level, had gone down a path that she did not wish to travel.

She could feel him leaning more heavily on her and she bit her lip for a second as she considered him again. “Hey, stay with me. I’m not dragging your ass onto the plane, idiot.”

“Surprised you ain’t kickin’ my ass onto the plane.” He replied with a flicker of amusement behind his words, an attempt at normalcy even as his voice slurred slightly.

“There’s still time for it to come to that.” She replied with a smirk, keeping up her end of the banter, knowing that it was easier that way, that they would keep it up until they were home safe, something that was still several hours away. “You know, I always thought in fairy stories that the damsel in distress was supposed to be beautiful and...well, not a bloodied mess. Have I been reading the wrong fairy tales or are you not doing it right?”

He smiled, his lip splitting again, a dribble of fresh blood trailing down. “Guess I’m doin’ it wrong. You trying to say I’m not ravishing right now?”

She chuckled and shrugged. “Take it as you will.”

A huff of laughter escaped him at that and she felt his fingers tighten briefly against her shoulder in a softly affectionate gesture. “You’re a hard woman...”

“You love it.”

“Yeah well, glutton for punishment aren’t I?”

Natasha nodded, glancing upwards as the jet came in, settling down in the snow about twenty yards away from them. “You are. Now time to shift your ass to the plane. We can be back stateside in just a couple of hours. Then you’re getting patched up and we are going home.”

“You know just how to sweet talk me, doll.”

Another soft laugh escaped her, part amusement, part relief as they made their way towards the jet, pushing through the snow until they made it into the back of the jet, neither relaxing until it was in the air once again, until they were on their way.

Discovering Trust || Natasha & Nick

She watched as he frowned before he spoke, listened to his words, feeling even as she did a low flicker of anger, something smouldering deep within, ready to burn once again, a destructive blaze of anger licking through her. Instead she remained silent, forcing her rage under control, making certain that nothing showed on her face or in her mannerisms.

She tilted her head slightly to one side as he pushed the apple towards her, looking at it for a couple of seconds before she stood up, walking slowly and casually to the counter, flicking a knife of her own from her sleeve, using it to spear an apple with a satisfying sound. She lifted the impaled apple, leaving it on the knife as she took a bite, something vicious about the gesture as her teeth broke through the deep red skin, slicing deep into the white flesh beneath.

Without saying a word she returned to the couch, controlled, carefully controlled in every motion as she sat down opposite him once again, sliding the knife from the apple she had, stowing the weapon away once again in a fluid motion. “You could have trusted me.” She stated, voice ice cold as she spoke. “You say that we needed something to avenge, something to draw us together as a team? Perhaps, perhaps some of the others did. But you know me better than that, or I thought after all this time that you ought to.”

Natasha took another bite of her apple letting the silence stretch between them for a few moments. “I was, and am an Agent. You know that I did not need that kind of motivation. I am what I am required to be and who I am required to be depending on the situation at hand. Professionalism aside, did you not think that perhaps I already had more than motivation enough? After what was done to Clint, after what Loki used him for…you know that I would go to the gates of hell and beyond for that man. That was more than enough for me. You should have told me. Should have told me that Coulson had survived.”

She paused again, keeping a firm hold on her emotions, leaning forward slightly, eyes narrowed. “When I first came to this agency, Clint, Coulson, and yourself were the only ones willing to give me a chance. I was part of Strike Team Delta. And yes, it was Clint and I out in the field but Coulson was our handler and you know, you know exactly how close a bond that draws between people. Even if he did not survive in the end, even if he died while you were trying to bring him back, you had no right to conceal from me, or from Clint that Coulson survived what Loki did to him. You, Nick, were as close to a father figure to me as I’d ever had before, and that is a trust that you betrayed.”

She let the words hang in the air between them for another few moments, before giving him a slight nod, just enough to let him know that she was waiting for him to come up with a response to her.

Each word that left Natasha’s lips were like tiny daggers, chipping away at what was left of his soul. It took everything in his power not to step away from the verbal assault, but he deserved every word of it. Natasha was right though, because he considered Natasha to be a daughter. She was strong, a powerful ally and he closed her out. He knew better and he did it anyways.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, he took a sip from the bottle of water before he moved to continued. “Natasha. I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted another human being. The only person I trust more than you is my cat. And that’s because I don’t have much choice. If I were to be honest, I wasn’t considering who to tell when he made it through. I don’t say this lightly, Natasha, but I care about you, deeply. When we got him living again you and Barton were in action, in the field. I… I made a mistake, hiding it from you, but I can’t take it back. I can’t change the past. I can only fix what I’ve done…”

Running a hand over his knees, he let out a deep sigh. “I messed up. I screwed up more in the last few years than I ever have in my life and it all started on that airship when Coulson went down. The only thing I ever did right was keep you close.”

#discovering trust #the-avengers-initiative-director #thisisjustlikebudapest

Natasha placed her half eaten apple slowly and deliberately on the table crossing her arms as she looked at Nick, one eyebrow raised as he spoke. She could see that he was being open with her, could see the way that her words had affected him. But then, he was one of the best in the game, knew how to give a performance if he wanted to. He hadn’t stayed at the helm of an agency like SHIELD for as long as he had by giving away anything that he didn’t want to.

She narrowed her eyes, considering him, considering each gesture, each subtle physical tell as she listened to his words. It was enough to tell her that he was in fact being completely genuine with her. She sat back slightly, crossing one leg over the other, reaching out to pick up her apple once again, taking another bite, relishing the purposely vicious crunch as she did. She let the silence hang between them as he finished speaking, knowing as she did precisely what she was doing.

He had hurt her. Had betrayed something that was more important to her than mere friendship. He had betrayed her trust and the familial bonds that had been between them. She could easily forgive anger, a difference of opinion, could forgive arguments and fights. Those were things that she could take in her stride. It was the betrayal of trust that hit the hardest. The fact that he had not thought enough of her, hadn’t trusted her enough to take her into his confidence. He hadn’t had the faith in her that she had believed that she had.

“You know, when I first found out that Coulson was alive, it was from James? Not from you, not from Coulson himself, but from James. A note that he left me because Coulson had sworn him to silence on the fact that he was alive, on your orders.” She bared her teeth in a parody of a smile. “Do you know, Nick, what that made me think?”

She paused again for a moment, her voice cold and calm as she spoke. “It made me come to the conclusion that no matter how many years it has been, no matter what I have done for you, no matter how many missions I have been on, how many times I have put my life on the line for you and for the agency, that I am still nothing more than what I was when I came in to you. A killer with blood on her hands and a reputation, a Russian assassin from the Red Room, not to be trusted, to be used as an asset.” She almost spat the last word at him, unholy rage filling her. “Do you know what that feels like? Because since I came to SHIELD, since Clint gave me that second chance, I have fought against that with everything that I have.”

Natasha watched him carefully. “You are right. You cannot fix the things that you have done. And I want to believe what you say. There is no fixing what you have done, there is only moving forward from this point.” She fixed him with a pointed look. “Clint gave me a second chance. James was given a second chance. Now I am giving you one.”

Discovering Trust || Natasha & Nick

Natasha watched as Nick got himself water, placing a bottle of vodka in front of her, listening to him talk, letting him fill the growing silence between them that was stretching out, uncomfortable and with an edge of tension. She had decided to finally drop in on him on her way home from a mission. She hadn’t bothered to change and she knew that the tang of explosives still hung about her. It was of no concern. It was more useful to her to pick a time where he would be more unsettled, albeit only slightly.

She picked up the bottle, looking at the label, tilting it slightly in the light, inspecting it casually before putting it back on the table with a soft thump of glass against the wood. She raised one eyebrow slightly at him and shook her head slightly. “I know you’re no mind reader. You are however a highly astute man and you have known me for a long time, Nick. So I thought perhaps you might have an idea of why I’m here.”

There was another pause, the silence stretching again and she smiled very slightly. “We’ve known each other for years. You know who and what I am and what I’ve done. I flattered myself that I knew you that well also. I know that spies and agents keep their secrets, I’m not stupid. But I thought that our relationship was one where trust was something that was given and received…”

Nick nodded a moment, considered the possibilities for the reason the red-headed assassin was sitting in his living room. When she spoke, it struck a cord inside that had him frowning deeply. “This is about Coulson… Natasha, I had to hide it. At that point the Avengers were more likely to turn on one another than to defeat Loki and his army. You needed something to avenge to take on the mantle of Avenger… Besides, I wasn’t sure it would work. Bringing him back.”

Getting back up, he took an apple from the dish on the counter and carefully sliced it, cutting it into wedges that were perfect for snacking. “I do trust you, Natasha. I trust you more than anyone, but you had gone off to do your own thing, as had the rest of the Avengers…” He took a bite of one of the apple wedges before sliding it over to Natasha. “If we’re going to talk, at least eat. It’s better than mission rations.”

#discovering trust #the-avengers-initiative-director #thisisjustlikebudapest

She watched as he frowned before he spoke, listened to his words, feeling even as she did a low flicker of anger, something smouldering deep within, ready to burn once again, a destructive blaze of anger licking through her. Instead she remained silent, forcing her rage under control, making certain that nothing showed on her face or in her mannerisms.

She tilted her head slightly to one side as he pushed the apple towards her, looking at it for a couple of seconds before she stood up, walking slowly and casually to the counter, flicking a knife of her own from her sleeve, using it to spear an apple with a satisfying sound. She lifted the impaled apple, leaving it on the knife as she took a bite, something vicious about the gesture as her teeth broke through the deep red skin, slicing deep into the white flesh beneath.

Without saying a word she returned to the couch, controlled, carefully controlled in every motion as she sat down opposite him once again, sliding the knife from the apple she had, stowing the weapon away once again in a fluid motion. “You could have trusted me.” She stated, voice ice cold as she spoke. “You say that we needed something to avenge, something to draw us together as a team? Perhaps, perhaps some of the others did. But you know me better than that, or I thought after all this time that you ought to.”

Natasha took another bite of her apple letting the silence stretch between them for a few moments. “I was, and am an Agent. You know that I did not need that kind of motivation. I am what I am required to be and who I am required to be depending on the situation at hand. Professionalism aside, did you not think that perhaps I already had more than motivation enough? After what was done to Clint, after what Loki used him for...you know that I would go to the gates of hell and beyond for that man. That was more than enough for me. You should have told me. Should have told me that Coulson had survived.”

She paused again, keeping a firm hold on her emotions, leaning forward slightly, eyes narrowed. “When I first came to this agency, Clint, Coulson, and yourself were the only ones willing to give me a chance. I was part of Strike Team Delta. And yes, it was Clint and I out in the field but Coulson was our handler and you know, you know exactly how close a bond that draws between people. Even if he did not survive in the end, even if he died while you were trying to bring him back, you had no right to conceal from me, or from Clint that Coulson survived what Loki did to him. You, Nick, were as close to a father figure to me as I’d ever had before, and that is a trust that you betrayed.”

She let the words hang in the air between them for another few moments, before giving him a slight nod, just enough to let him know that she was waiting for him to come up with a response to her.

Most wonderful time of the year | Natasha and Bucky

Bucky paused, leaning against the wall of the stairway, feeling steadily more lightheaded, shaking his head slightly, trying to find focus again. He swore under his breath, wondering how long he had left, cursing the whole situation quietly as he drew in a couple of slow breaths, waiting for the world to stop feeling as though it was slipping away. He could feel the sticky, hot sensation of blood beneath his tac gear against his skin and he frowned, pressing a hand to his side, hissing softly at the sensation.

He pulled himself together, carrying on downwards, following the stairway that took him deep beneath the ruins of the base. He paused now and again on the way down, listening hard, trying to get a sense of whether there was anyone else around, and if there was, at least an idea of numbers. He held a gun in his left hand, moving silently as he went, pushing onwards. He hadn’t reached his limits, knew that he was still functional enough.

As he reached the bottom of the stairwell he was assailed by a series of scents that he recognised, ones that almost made him recoil there and then. The unmistakable smells of antiseptic, of chemicals and disinfectants. It was the scent of their research laboratories, the smell of their medical facilities, it was the stuff of memory and nightmare and he stopped dead for a couple of seconds as he surveyed the short hallway before him, a door at the end under which bright light showed. There were no other exits, just that one door. And as any chance of escape from where he had come from was nonexistent he knew that the only way that he could go was forward, could only press onwards and trust his gut feeling that told him there was a secondary way out of there, that those he’d seen descend through the trap door before him were not simply incarcerating themselves below the ground.

He waited by the door, listening to try and gauge how many, if any, people were in the room beyond. He could pick out a couple of low voices, although not exactly what they were saying. He took a moment, shaking his head again, trying to get through the fogginess that was making it hard to concentrate, to think.

He made a mental inventory of what weaponry he still had on his person, unimpressed by the list once he had finished. It wasn’t great, but it would have to suffice. He could almost imagine Natasha’s voice in his head: Well it looks like you’ll just have to get creative doesn’t it?

It was the work of a moment to grasp the handle to the door, tearing it back, moving through. There was no time for hesitation, no time to reconsider. His only advantage was the element of surprise. Beyond that, he was at the mercy of whatever lay on the other side of the doors.

Bright lights on gleaming white tile. A series of scientists talking in urgent low tones to the suited men that he had followed. A sudden silence broken by the sound of gunshots followed by sprays of blood as his first bullets hit home. That was the advantage gone.

Alarms sounded.

Below ground base alerted.

Booted feet running down corridors.

A laugh as his world went black.

#Most wonderful time of the year #howlingwintercommando #thisisjustlikebudapest

Natasha hit the ground, the powdery upper layer of snow giving way beneath her boots, parachute drifting down behind her with a silken rustle. She impatiently shrugged her way out of the harness, letting it drop to the ground, moving swiftly forward through the snow, skirting around, keeping her eyes on the smoking ruins, scanning around for any signs of life, hostile or otherwise.

Everything was still. Above the sky was dark and clear, the snow clouds of earlier having rolled away with the biting wind that whistled across the landscape. The moon and stars shone with silver light onto the snow beneath, lighting the landscape. Natasha lightly tapped her comm three times in a signal that she had made a safe landing before she continued forward, looking at the lie of the land, watching for anything out of the ordinary.

It was stark and bleak, a dead land with only the crumbled ruins of the base and the acrid tang of smoke that came to her on the breeze the only signs that there had been life there, brutally extinguished. It was a barren place, and she could feel the deadly cold sinking into her, going down through the clothes that she was wearing. She clenched and released her fists, keeping the blood flowing through her fingers, keeping herself moving as she approached the destruction site.

There was no sign of life. Nothing. The building was nothing but a heap of rubble, jagged metal from the cores of the concrete pillars that had held it up thrusting skyward amidst the devastation. “No signs of life. Approaching the site.” She stated over the comm to her handler, keeping him updated as she went to the site, removing the small scanning device that she carried, confirming that there were no residual life signs there. There were many heat patches, concentrated areas where fire still undoubtedly smouldered beneath the surface, but there were no biological lifesigns, something that made her throat clench painfully, chest feeling as though there was a sudden weight pressing down on it.

At the same time however there were no signs that anybody had left the base. There were no signs that anybody had escaped alive. No footprints, nothing. It didn’t stack up. Didn’t make sense. If the place had been rigged to blow she was thoroughly confident in her assessment that those of higher standing would have made sure that they had an out. That they were able to escape before the place went up. There should have been signs that more than one person had made it out. And yet there was nothing.

She paused, scanning the landscape once again, noting a dip in the snow, one that without the full moon shining down would have been almost impossible to pick out. With the light as it was however, it made the lip of the slight indentation show enough shadow to make it appear to her. A slow smile curved her lips and she crossed the distance to it, moving slowly, ever watchful, forcing herself to remain entirely alert, not rushing. Getting herself killed would not help if James was still alive.

When she reached the depression she tested it out, finding beneath the layers of snow and ice as she dug them away a door sunk into the ground. There was a metal panel beneath her fingers and she bared her teeth in a savage smile as she found it, feeling a flicker of hope. There was more to the place. Something deeper. She found the panel that would give access, scanning it swiftly, noting that it was the same tech that she’d encountered on a previous mission, one that she would be able to counteract and gain entry.

There was a pause and she worked methodically until she was in, until she was pulling back the cover and after pulling on her night vision goggles descended down into the darkness beneath.

Silently she moved through the narrow corridors, shedding her snow camo, moving like a shadow, drifting through, mentally mapping the place out, exploring, waiting to find some sign of occupation. Then she heard it. The unmistakable sound of voices, could see lights at the end of the corridor. She adjusted her weapons, adrenaline flowing through her, ready for whatever was ahead.

Pausing at the final doors she could hear unfamiliar voices, the words in a mixture of German and Russian, followed by the sound of James’ voice, hoarse and snarling back in Russian. There was the sound of metal meeting flesh and a spill of foul invectives from James and she smiled a savage smile as she drew in a slow, deep breath before thrusting the doors open, taking in the scene at a glance.

He was there, strapped to a table, bleeding, but alive.

The men in the room had turned to look at her as she came in and without hesitating she dropped the first two with headshots.

The world shrank after that moment.

There was nothing but movement and blood and death and in those moments she realised once again what she was, what they had made her for and she revelled in every bloody moment of vengeance.

natashas

fuckyeahbuckynatasha’s secret santa → my gift for @coffeebean87.

Prompt: Bucky and Natasha are on a mission where they have to travel to the place Bucky fell from the train, and Bucky’s a bit scared to go back.

“Almost ready?” Bucky asked, grabbing the last of his gear.

Natasha nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah. Just give me a minute.” She paused to power up her Widow’s Bites, then confirmed, “There. All set.” She glanced over at him as he stuffed some more supplies into his pack. “What about you? Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“I’ll… I’ll be fine, Nat,” he assured her, faltering when the memory of falling suddenly flashed to the forefront of his mind, and most likely cost him any chance at convincing her. Still, despite the unpleasant visions plaguing him, he continued, “Don’t worry about me, alright?”

She saw straight through him, as always. “James, we don’t have to do this.”

“I know. I want to. I promise.” And that was the truth. He refused to let his fears stop him from finishing this mission.

“Okay, okay…” she conceded with a small smile, amused by his stubbornness. “Just remember: I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

“Thanks, Nat.”

#howlingwintercommando #thisisjustlikebudapest #gifs

Most wonderful time of the year | Natasha and Bucky

The air stank of explosives, of smoke, of concrete dust, the bitter taint of ash on his tongue. Bucky coughed, wincing at the pain it caused. He blinked, shifting slightly to get a read on where he was, how much space he had, what kind of shape he was in.

He swallowed, tasting the metallic tang of blood as he paused. Still functional. Mentally he ran through the situation. The blast had forced him forwards, sending him into the side of the room, and the resulting destruction had left him with what amounted to a crawl space around him, something that he could map out easily as he pulled a small flashlight from his belt.

Getting out though was something that he was not looking forward to. He had been in the lowest level of the compound which meant that the likelihood of scanners picking up on life signs were extremely limited. It also meant that digging his own way out simply wasn’t a viable option while the blast had knocked out the comm link he’d had.

He shifted again, gritting his teeth as he did, rubbing his right hand over his face, thankful for the mask and goggles that had protected him from the worst of the dust and debris. “She’s gonna fuckin’ kill me…” He muttered under his breath.

There was, he knew, only so much oxygen which meant that staying put was certain death. The only option left as a potential opening was the trapdoor where the target and his associates had disappeared. He moved again, re-positioning himself as best he could and started to systematically move chunks of debris to widen the space to allow him access to further into the room, joining air pockets and spaces together, pausing as he did to make sure that he wasn’t going to cause a further cave in. It was slow, laborious work, and he could feel sweat mingling with blood, stinging as it trickled across his skin, could feel his body screaming at him as he pushed onwards.

When he felt the metal edges of the trapdoor he felt an overwhelming relief, fingers raw from tugging at the concrete and debris. He reached out, digging the metal fingers of his left hand into the buckled edge of the metal, taking as deep a breath as he could before he wrenched it hard, tearing it open, leaving a yawning hole, and a sudden rush of cold air that was like an elixir after the close, stinking air that he’d been surrounded by.

Without hesitating he wriggled forward until he could drop down through the hole, feet finding the stone stairway, lit by sickly neon lights beneath. He began making his way down, feeling an absolute determination to get out of there, to find his way home once again.

#most wonderful time of the year #howlingwintercommando #thisisjustlikebudapest

The flight seemed overly long, every second stretching impossibly into minutes that seemed more like hours. Natasha stood in the cockpit behind the pilot, her gaze fixed on the horizon, not speaking, arms crossed over her chest. She flicked her eyes briefly to the instrument panel, noting the readouts before she narrowed her eyes and looked to the pilot. “Push it harder. You can get more out of her than this.” She stated, words clipped and harsh. “If you do not think that is an option then you can leave your position and I will take over.”

He looked up at her for a second and she returned his look with a frosty stare, not inviting question or further conversation, waiting until he gave the plane more throttle, forcing more speed from the craft. She pulled her phone from the inner pocket of her jacket, sending a quick message.

Steve. It’s Nat. James’ mission went south and he’s been declared MIA. The building was destroyed. I’m headed in now. Will keep you updated.

She kept any form of emotion from it, not wanting to delve to deeply into her own feelings at that moment. It wasn’t the time. Wouldn’t help the situation or change anything. She needed rather to keep her head clear, to focus on what needed to be done.

As they neared the co-ordinates she moved to the back of the plane, strapping on her chute, getting ready to make the jump. It was something that she had done countless times before, and yet as she opened the door ready to jump she still felt that same buzz as the wind whipped past, stealing her breath away.

“Just make sure you’re alive when I get there.” She muttered under her breath before she launched from the plane, free falling, feeling air rushing past, heading down towards the snow covered ground below. She could see the base where Bucky had been, the dark smoke rising something that made her grit her teeth, another wave of anger rising within her, a dark fury that she harnessed, something she could use.

elvenking

Some stuff you leave there, other stuff you bring back. It’s our job to figure out how to carry it.

#howlingwintercommando #thisisjustlikebudapest #gifs

antthonystark

what did you bury before those hands pulled me from the earth?

#thisisjustlikebudapest #howlingwintercommando #gifs

a-man-outof-time

It Comes Together // Steve, Natasha, Darcy, Hank, Kitty

hankphilipmccoy

Hank was busy searching for any more relevant data he could find when he looked over at Darcy’s station and saw she had an incoming transmission. He wasn’t paying attention much to anyone elses comms, but this one made his ears perk up. It was from Thor, and he said:

Darcy, Steve, tell the others to keep the aliens at bay for as long as they can. They are protecting an Infinity Stone.

He remembered that fateful day on Asgard. Hank was called in for science and ended up covered in bug guts in what Asgardians perceived to be the center of the universe. He felt a little sick, recalling that god-awful smell that saturated his clothes so badly he had to repurchase an all new wardrobe. And come to think of it…no one in that room was there that day. Susan, Betty, Jane, Tony, Pym, and Stephen were all on the battlefield. Strange…nearly that entire team was present, except Bruce. Hank felt like on the battlefield they were well prepared, but the ‘home team’ couldn’t prepare for the worst if they didn’t know what the worst was.

“I’m not sure if you recall, but on Asgard a year ago, an Infinity Stone was the cause of the sickness that spread across the universe. Or, at least all the words that were connected by that tree.” Yggdrasil, he corrected in his mind. He didn’t want to sound too nerdy out loud. “Everyone should be on guard. If one stone was capable of that much destruction, who knows what another could possibly do…”

a-man-outof-time

Steve still had his ear to the phone, but Hank got his attention pretty quickly by mentioning an Infinity Stone. Steve was pretty familiar with them by now – first the Tesseract, then Loki’s scepter, then the Soul Gem that Galactus had hidden in the magic tree – which meant an already high-risk, high-priority mission had essentially become a DEFCON 1 situation.

He nodded to Hank to indicate that he’d heard the Infinity Stone announcement, then wrapped up his call. Before dialing the next number, he took a minute to check in with Bucky and confirm that an Infinity Stone was in play, then set about dialing the next government entity to recommend an evac. The Winter Squadron seemed to be doing fine – they were outside now, holding the line with the Avengers – but Steve nevertheless kept his comm in his hand even as he made his calls.

Bucky could handle this. They all could. Steve was having some reservations about the Young Avengers, but there wasn’t much he could do about them until everyone came home, anyway. And if there was anything that chapped his ass more than sending kids to fight HYDRA and aliens, it was electing to stay behind. He’d thought he could handle the behind-the-scenes stuff, and technically, everything was going fine, but he was painfully anxious about sitting on the sidelines. He’d ended up in the superhero business because he’d refused to sit down, and now he knew for certain that he couldn’t start now.

The fact that there was now and Infinity Stone added to the mix made Natasha frown, narrowing her eyes at the thought of it, knowing exactly what that meant if their other brushes with the Stones were anything to go by. It had changed things up from simply being a difficult and dangerous mission to being something far beyond that.

There was nothing that they could do about it at that point. Missions changed and evolved and the only way to get through it was to deal with the problems as they arose, work with what they had. Orders had been given, the Avengers were holding things off, working alongside the Winter Squadron, and she knew well that they knew precisely what they were doing and what they needed to do. She had no qualms about her team members, simply kept monitoring them, listening to conversation over the comm link as she continued to contact nearby towns and agencies to help co-ordinate an evacuation.

It wasn’t enough to assuage that energy that she could feel pulsing through her, that buzz of adrenaline that made her knuckles white where her hand that was not holding the phone pressed against the table before her. Wasn’t enough to stop that need to be out there, to be part of it, to work with the people she cared about. She had been made to be a weapon, not to be a controller and she could feel the distance and the role that had been forced upon her beginning to get to her, fraying her temper round the edges, held carefully in check.

#it comes together

Most wonderful time of the year | Natasha and Bucky

Bucky paused, crouching down a short distance from the base, using a dip in the terrain to conceal his presence.

It felt off.

He let out a slow breath, frowning as he tallied the guards once again, his gaze running across the scene, searching for something that was out of place, something that hinted at it not being all that it seemed. There was nothing that gave any indication that there was anything wrong. He paused for another couple of beats before moving in closer, waiting again as he surveyed the area once more.

There was no reason to pull back save for gut instinct. He frowned and bit the inside of his lip before querying it with the mission handler. The response was a curt negative to any further intelligence and an order to wait while they ran a few checks on the original information.

He felt his phone vibrate against his side, someone leaving a message. With a sigh he pulled it out, briefly checking who it was from.

Steve.

Who knew that he and Natasha were on a mission which meant that it could only be something vital, something that needed to be heard. The message was brief and to the point but it felt like a punch in the gut. “Jesus Stevie…” He breathed softly, knowing just how much Peggy had meant to him. He cursed softly under his breath, typing out a quick message.

Shit, punk…I’m sorry. She was a good woman, but you know that. Let me know if you need anything. Should hopefully be back tomorrow latest. I don’t know what to say, not really, except whatever you need, you got it okay?

He hit send and shoved his phone away again, pushing back those thoughts, dragging his head back into the mission as he got the go ahead to proceed once more.

There was no more time to think about anything external to the mission, not Steve, not Natasha, none of it. He dispatched the guards on the gates, knowing that it was from that point just a matter of getting through there and surviving.

The world shrank down in those moments as he moved through the base, a cacophony of noise and motion, everything hyper-real, crystal cut clarity that made it seem as if everything had slowed down. It was what he had been made for, and what he knew he did well. He followed down into the depths of the base, ignoring the alarms that were going off, time was of the essence to get to the target, and the man who had come to join him.

As he reached the epicentre of the building he wrenched the door open to see the target and three other suited men disappearing through a trapdoor built into the floor.

In that split second there was an almighty explosion, rumbling through the building, a bright flash of light, of fire and flame as the building came down.