˗ˏˋ romanogers oneshots ˎˊ˗

cursing my name

"This is all your fault," Natasha grunts, resisting the shackles holding her down. 

Steve sighs, "I know. I'll make it up to you when we get out of here."

"If," she gently reminds. He sighs again. 

They had been on a mission in Moscow, Russia, attempting, once again, to take down the Red Room. But like all other previous missions, they had failed. The first mission was led by a strike team who came back half beaten and severely wounded, the second with PTSD and the third, well, this was the third. And the two Avengers found themselves stuck together in a holding cell, dark and cold. They had once again underestimated the Russians, assuming that the combined strength and power between them would somehow take it down once and for all. 

"You know, we could do something while being stuck in here for the time being," Steve says with a smirk that Natasha makes out in the dim light. "These shackles are pretty kinky,"

"Of all places and times, right here, right now?" Natasha rolls her eyes, raising her eyebrows at him. 

His smirk fades. "Yeah, horrible timing. Sorry."

Natasha sighs, "Was our timing ever right?"

Their love story had never been one of perfect timing and fate, it was a tragic love in shades if grey and candle lights. They met under high pressure circumstances and were forced to work together to defeat a common enemy. They were than constantly partnered up for various missions but their relationship lacked communication and trust. He was a soldier and she was a spy, and no one would have ever believed that they would work out. But maybe they did for a while, she had let down her guard and trusted him. Their flawed relationship was often balanced out by their perfect partnership at work. This time however, something was different. Emotion was used and as we all know, it was what made them weak. And here they were, captured. 

A shadow in the dark walks into the room. "One of you will not make it out of here," he snarls. "Which one should it be?"

Natasha and Steve look at one another. Each of them wants to sacrifice for the other. Natasha blurts, "Let it be me." 

Steve shakes his head. "I've lost too much. I can't lose you too. Pick me."

Natasha remembers a conversation they had years ago. If it was down to me to save your life, now you be honest with me. Would you trust me to do it? I would now. And I'm always honest. "Do you trust me?"

Steve hesitates. "I trust you,"

Natasha smiles. "Then let me save your life."

Steve is about to protest when the shadow knocks him out cold before grabbing Natasha and dragging her away. 

He wakes up strapped to a chair, opposite a torture contraption of some sort. His hands are restrained by chains that even the strongest of the serum couldn't break. And he was weak. They had done something to him. He sees Natasha getting strapped to the machine. It was only then he realized its use. It involved hanging the victim over a vat of water, with their toes touching the water. The operator would then flick a switch which would send a shock current through the water and up the victim's body. 

"Natasha," he whispers. 

She smiles weakly at him from the machine as her toes are lowered into the vat of water. 

"I love you," she calls out before the switch is flipped. Her body trembles with shock as the electricity pulsates through her. 

"No! Please, stop. Can't you see? You're hurting her. Don't do this. Hurt me instead. Please." Steve begs.

The operator smirks at him through the mask. "She volunteered. Unless you would like to join her and die too? I am a man of my word. I said that one of you will make it out alive. And mark my words, I will make that happen." He then flips the switch to a higher power, before coming to a stop once Natasha's body has gone limp. 

"No!" Steve cries out to his dead lover as he continues to struggle against the chains. He finally breaks free and rushes to her, tears staining his face as he tries to get her entangled from the machine. He finally manages to pull her out of the mess and holds her close to his chest, inhaling the scent of her hair, which smelt of vanilla and cherries, like the shampoo she often used. 

"It should have been me," he sobs as he cradles her body in his arms, cross legged on the floor. "Why did you sacrifice yourself for me Nat, I'm not worth all of this. I can't live without you baby. You promised me something when we got out of here. I was gonna propose when we got out of here. Now, I've lost you forever and I can't get you back. It should have been me." Steve argues as the tears stream down his face, mixing with the blood and staining his cheeks. "Come back to me please, Natasha. I need you."

Her funeral is a pain to watch and every passing moment without her breaks his heart even more. Anger and pain coarses through him with the addition of more and more people coming to give their condolences. They don't know what he's been through, they won't know, they never will. He needs to vent. He needs to scream. He needs to punch something. He needs to feel pain. He needs to shut off the guilt. It's his fault that she's gone. 

As he wraps his hands and gets ready to punch the bag in front of him, he can't help but remember the times they had trained together. He hits the bag and sends it flying across the room on the first hit. With a sigh, he picks up the next one and hangs it up, repeating the process. 

She's gone and he has to move on. But he's afraid that he never will. She was all he had, and now there was nothing left. 

A/N: inspired by an irl's prompt to write this. its once again sad because what do we expect at this point? none of of stories have happy endings anymore. also today is a good day because tswift announced RED and i went to see in the heights. 100% recommend its an amazing movie like i loved every 143 minutes of it!!