The Witch or the Widow: Old Wounds

Chapter Four: Confessions

(Natasha's POV):

As soon as I heard footsteps approaching, I pulled away from Kat, retreating a few paces. I looked away, and she moved off down the hall. I sighed, my hands wresting on my hips before shaking my head and walking off towards my room. A hand grabbed my shoulder mid-stride, and I spun to find Steve facing me with an amused expression on his face.

"I thought you were going to pin me like Bex got Barton," he said with a low chuckle. I smirked.

"I would know that heavy walk anywhere, Rogers, you're not a threat." He chuckled before leaning up against the wall beside me.

"What's going on, Natasha?" I frowned, tilting my head slightly, looking at him.

"What do you mean?" He chuckled again and shook his head.

"There's something between you and Bex." My breath caught in my throat, and I stared down at the floor.

"It's nothing," I murmured. I didn't want to talk to him about this right now. To be honest, I didn't want to talk to anyone about this right now – or at all.

"It doesn't look like nothing." I sighed.

"Can we go back to talking about your love life?" I smirked. He raised his eyebrows.

"So, it's your love life, huh?" I rolled my eyes. I did an about-face, heading away from the living quarters towards the kitchen, and he fell into step beside me.

"Kat.." I stopped myself, forcing myself to get used to the new name despite my distaste for it "Bex and I have a history."

"In the category of obvious statements," he teased me. I shoved him lightly in the shoulder.

"Watch it, Rogers." He raised his hands in mock surrender before gesturing for me to continue.

"We knew each other in Budapest," I began. He nodded. "We knew each other...well." He raised a single eyebrow at the admission, but – to his credit – didn't bat an eyelash. "When Clint was helping me get out, we had to eliminate Dreykov – by blowing up a building." Steve glanced down at the floor. He knew a little bit about my past, and was more than willing to look past it to see the person I am now, it can't be easy for him to have some of those details confirmed. Afterwards, I went back to my apartment to go find Kat, but she wasn't there. One of our contacts reached out and told me that Kat's backpack had been found in the explosion, that she had to have been in the building." My voice caught in my throat and I paused for a minute before I trusted myself to continue. So that's when I finally agreed to join shield." Steve was staring at me openly now, hanging on every word.

"You agreed to come here because your...she.... Bex was dead?" He asked lowly. I nodded, fighting back the threat of tears in my eyes.

"How does she fight like that?" He asked. We sat across from each other at the kitchen table. I clasped my hands in front of me, shaking my head.

"I have no idea." Steve frowned, not following. I sighed.

"The Bex that's here now – that's not the same woman I knew. She wasn't a fighter; she was an academic. She was one of the smartest people I ever knew. Her colleagues at the college where she taught even teased her about her memory." Steve leaned forward slightly.

"What about her memory?" I smirked, remembering how annoying it used to be.

"It's Eidetic. She remembers everything she sees." Steve frowned.

"Like different fighting styles?" My eyes opened wide.

"I suppose."

"That doesn't explain how she seems to always be a single step ahead of every move, regardless of opponent." He shook his head. "Honestly, Nat it's uncanny." He wasn't wrong.

"I don't know how she got like this, but it's my fault." I choked on the last part of the sentence, recognizing the truth of it. Steve leaned forward, covering one of my small hands in his large, warm ones.

"Nat, don't think like that," he said softly. I shrugged slightly.

"What else am I supposed to think?" He sighed deeply.

"If you had gotten to your apartment and found...Kat...there – would you have left with Clint?" I bit on the inside of my bottom lip slightly at the question. All of the feelings from then came crashing back – the loss, the grief, the determination to do better.

"I don't know," I admitted, softly. He nodded, processing the information. His next question was barely above a whisper.

"What does she think happened?" My eyes snapped up to his, threatening to water over.

"She thinks I left her there." Saying it out loud had a sense of finality to it that broke my heart, and my tears finally fell, spilling down my cheeks. Steve slid his chair next to mine, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his warm chest." I let him for a moment, before pulling away. "I'm fine," I nodded, willing myself to believe it.

"Really, cause you look pretty miserable," he smirked. "You need to tell her, Natasha." As soon as the words came out of his mouth, I was shaking my head.

"No. At this point, it will only sound like an excuse." I sighed. "I hid her from Clint while we were negotiating. I hid Clint and shield from her, waiting until I thought I knew she could be safe. I made a lot of mistakes, and I've got to own up to that."

"Owning up to it means talking about it," he said gently.

"When did you become the expert on relationships, Steve?" I smirked at him, turning the attention back on him. He blushed.

"I'm 105, I'm not dead." He deadpanned.

"So, is there anyone special Rogers?" I poked him in the ribs and he squirmed away, the blush spreading up his face brightly. I followed his eyes as he glanced out the window, noting Bucky sitting in the living room across from us. I smirked. About time.

"I'll tell her if you tell him," I said softly, gesturing towards Bucky. I didn't know that Steve Rogers could turn that color.

"Watch it," he muttered. I giggled, leaning into his shoulder. Within a moment he was laughing with me.

"I always thought we were the cool ones, you know?" He grinned and kissed the top of my head like a big brother.

"I am. I don't know what you are." He smirked. Captain America was really getting his sarcasm game down. I think I was a bad influence on him.