Diavolo

forty two - I just need a name

"Do you want to talk about it?" Came James's voice. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow and watched as he ate his meal. The burning sensation from the coffee in her hand was soothing in a kind of way. "I think you forget that I know you better than most people."

...or the fact that you can read people like books.

"I don't know where you're going with this Barnes," She muttered narrowing her eyes at him.

"Talk to me. The guilt will kill you one day and that's a really shitty way to die. Especially for you." He pressed, placing his plates and cutlery in the sink.

"It's a good thing I can't be killed then," She countered bringing the mug to her lips whilst he stared daggers into her eyes. 

You could see the love that burns in those eyes, the love and care that he feels for her. He was her first love and she was his, a forbidden love.

"You've been through a lot," He said, setting himself in a chair next to her. "You and me both...but the difference between us is that I've had time to heal and recuperate after the Winter Soldier Programme. You haven't Nat." The redhead continued to caress the mug in her hand, staring at the bubbles that were lying on the surface of the coffee because she knew that the moment she looks at him, she wouldn't be able to hold herself together anymore, "You go from one country to another saving people and protecting them, but the person that needs saving the most is you." Noting her silence and the refusal to make eye contact he continued, "It's okay to feel something."

With a loud sigh, she met his gaze. "It's doesn't work like that James, do you think it's easy for me to just open up and relive the past? To cut myself open and let all the trauma spill out of me?"

"I never said it was going to be easy. But you have to start somewhere right?" He admits, filling her cup with fresh coffee. "I know what it's like. I was programmed to kill for heaven's sake." He uttered gesturing at his vibranium arm.

"It's exhausting isn't it." She admits wrapping her arms around her waist, "I don't even look in the mirror anymore, what's the point when the person looking back is a stranger." His eyes softened while she stares at him with her glazed eyes. "LeToya, Natasha, I don't even know who I am anymore."

"You'll always be Natasha to me. You're going to figure this out and I'm not going anywhere...not that I have a choice anyway." He muttered the last part unable to contain the smirk that was on his face and brings her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her shoulders as if a shield protecting her from the world.

His hand touched the back of her head, "I might've put a bullet in my brain to quiet the ghosts if it wasn't for you." He said, his voice was soft. Before she could attempt to reply, she hurled James's body to the side. He slams into the coffee table with a loud crash. James couldn't process what was happening as she stalked towards a figure they hadn't noticed standing near the corner.

She lifted her right foot and smashes it into the shadow, "Traitor." She claims whilst wrapping her arms around its neck and flipping the body over her small frame with ease. James believed her strength and agility were abnormal as he saw her throw darting punches at the figure.

"I know you're mad." The voice of a male spoke. But she doesn't stop, continuously slamming her fists into his torso and face, as if he's some punching bag. She sends another deadly kick to his stomach which launches him to the other side of the room. At this point, James was questioning whether he should interfere or not. He didn't know who this man was and he couldn't care less. He just wanted to know what he had done to provoke her like this.

"Are you done?" Roman asks, reaching for the cut on his face to check if it was bleeding. Indeed it was. She stalked towards him and hauled him up by the neckline of his t-shirt.

"Who else is here?" She barked. 

"Just me." He groaned, "I just want to talk." 

***

"Is this really necessary?" Roman asks, his body was strapped to a chair with cable ties and ropes. Mutilple ropes. 

"Yes." The two assassins replied in unison. James had pulled her to the side, he noticed how her chest heaved up and down, her hands trembling from the adrenaline. 

"Calm down." He said placing his hands on her shoulder, but she grabs his wrist and twists it with force. James gasped in pain as he brings his vibranium arm down onto her forearm. "Nat, what the fuck?"

She rubbed her temples whilst shaking her head, "I'm sorry," She muttered, "it just— it just happened."

James had never seen her like this. "What have they done with you?" He whispered, his eyebrows creasing as he spoke.

She swallowed at the question and shifted her gaze towards Roman. "I've checked the perimeters, he wasn't lying. It's just him." Turning her attention onto the man who betrayed her, "Did you come back for the knife that you put in my back?"

"I came to explain myself." He said glancing between her eyes and the ground, "I never meant to hurt you L."

"I trusted you with my home, my family, and my past. But you know what's fucked up Rome, it's the fact that you prioritised your job over your own brother." Her voice cracked mid-sentence while his eyes drooped further at the mention of the nickname that she used to call him.

"Miller..." He muttered, "I had fallen in love with you Leti and Miller knew that. He used it against me. I didn't have a choice."

She blinked a few times, trying to register what he said, "You don't betray the people that you love. No matter what there's always another way." 

"Well, there wasn't." He exclaimed. "He wants the mole Leti, I just need a name."

With a scoff, she muttered, "so that's why you're here."

Rome shifted in his seat, hissing at the ropes that are starting to burn his wrists. "We need your help L."

Roman had spotted her peering at the ropes, as if deciding whether or not to remove them, and despite his reluctance to admit it, he had been studying LeToya. Her flawlessly sculpted face had always captivated him, but something was different tonight. Her eyes were darker than normal, almost as lifeless as they had been when he found her in Russia. Her cheeks weren't as red as they usually were, but they were pale, almost white, and her cheekbones were sunken.

"What makes you think I'm going to help you?" She questioned, her face remaining cold.

"Because this isn't about me and you so put all this bullshit aside. You know who's responsible for the incident in Colombia, why not tell us?" 

You'd have to be blind not to see that the two had some sort of past since it was like fighting fire with fire as the scene unfolded in front of James.

"It wasn't an incident. It was a setup." She corrected the agent. "And why would I tell your corrupt Agency shit if you were so sure I was the mole? I'd rather see it disintegrate from the inside out."

"Then don't do it for the Agency." He sternly advised her. "Do it for Quinn."