Chapter Text
Natasha would never admit it but she hated that Bucky was back. She hated that the past she tried so deeply to forget about was now living in the same building as her. The redhead had spent years trying to be Natasha Romanoff, the avenger, and let Natalia Romanova, the Red Room's best assassin disappear into thin air.
And she was getting pretty damn good at it until James Buchanan Barnes found his way back into her life. She had been sure he was dead and gone, a ghost from her past life just as so many before and after him. Hell, Natasha searched for him when she got out. A small amount of hope in her veins, telling her that maybe there was a small chance, a small one, that he'd made it out as well. But after years of searching she stopped, and that hope died within her.
All until her friend and coworker, Steve Rogers, began to search for his long lost friend, Bucky Barnes...and found him.
And even so, she didn't reveal to anyone her history with him. She kept her distance from the man and began a mantra in her head.
"He's not your James, he's Bucky,"
It was the truth. He was no longer James and with the way they wiped his memory, he probably didn't remember her much. If he did..he didn't make it known. Bucky was trying his hardest to get his memories back along with getting Hydra out of his head, she wasn't going to set him back. She couldn't do that to him.
So over the course of this year, she kept her distance and began to think about other things. Like how Wanda and Vision struggle to hide their obvious love for each other. Like how Tony and Stephen's "hate" for each other was a facade for the growing feelings they felt for one another. Like how Peter, her baby spider, was now living in the tower and brought a new light into her life.
Like how he reminded her of the boy she never got to raise.
There were so many things to think about and yet she was always brought back. Always inside, the young Natalia Romanova.
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Bucky would never say it out loud, but there was something off about Natasha. He noticed how she glanced at him from a distance, a sort of longing in her gaze before she averted her eyes elsewhere. He noticed how when he was awake from a nightmare, she was wide awake with him staring into the distance, a small hand caressing her stomach. He noticed how she slipped up and called him James when she thought he could not hear her.
But most of all, he noticed how he got flashes of her in his memories at times. They were all scattered and hard to distinguish but it was her. A younger version of her and a small boy. He heard her voice at night in his nightmares.
"This isn't fair to him,"
"They'll break him before he can even speak,"
Who was he? Why was she crying? What didn't he know? Was this why she was so distant to him? Because they had some type of history.
Was this why she barely spoke to him unless they were on a mission? Why those nights when they're both wide awake, she lowly sings Russian lullabies he swears he's heard before? Why she feels so familiar?
He hadn't got his answer yet, and he was sure she wouldn't reveal anything any time soon. No, Natasha was very strict on her choice of keeping their relationship as a work thing. She was very strict in only slipping up when she thought he wasn't around.
So over the course of the year, he focused on remembering more and trying to think about other things. Like how much he'd miss Steve. Like how to get into Sark's good graces. Like how he was sure the robot and Wanda were crushing on each other. Like how the sorcerer and Stark were obviously hiding their feelings with their constant bickering. Like how the spider kid sometimes was the only thing capable of making him smile.
Like how he got a guilty feeling inside whenever he hung out with the kid. Like something inside was trying to give him some sort of message... A message he was sure Nat could deliver.
Thousands of things to think about and yet he was always brought back. Back to her and the mystery she continued to leave unveiled.