Stages of Grief ~ BUCKY BARNES/WINTERWIDOW

Prologue

Without a fear of death, she jumped from the edge of the helicarrier. Naturally, for Natasha (who even turned a 4,000-meter jump into a light ballet movement), this kind of mission didn't cause any problems. Not for Bucky. Ever since he remembered how his father had died on that parachute mission in his teens, his strong fear of heights seemed to have returned.

"Jump Barnes!" He heard Fury through the transceiver in his ear. Then the headmaster continued with a lighter voice. "The air portals were designed by Mr Fantastic, these are the only way you can sneak into Doom's mansion undetected."

"And are you sure that everything Mr Fantastic makes works perfectly all the time?" Bucky stepped out into the emptiness below him and began to fall.

"I trust Richards' abilities ..." The line went dim.

Bucky saw Natasha not far away in the whistling wind. The agent laughed. It wouldn't be her if she didn't enjoy this task.

The portal slowly approached them, and it absorbed the pair, transporting them in space into the mansion.

Bucky was in grave danger of vomiting as he tried to get up from a rather ungraceful landing. Natasha landed next to him with ease. She was not so bothered by the rapid change of space.

"What is James?" She teased him. "Are you already tired? Do you have the task's details? I help, vomiting is not covered by any of the points."

"Break into Doom's estate." Bucky bounced back. "And stop his project, which the government hasn't allowed."

"Bravo! Now, get yourself together!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

The relationship between the two was deeper than the friendship required at work. Bucky loved Natasha and Natasha loved Bucky. Ever since the Red Room, so it was a logical decision for Fury to send them in pairs for missions. Clint had some objections about that, but he couldn't do anything after all. James, even in his own judgment, was more charming than he was. But not Clint could not complain, he had enough work with Kate Bishop.

Bucky wondered what other traps might be in their way while they were quietly sneaking through the hallways. Heat and pressure sensors (no problem), soldiers (easy), Dr. Doom himself (risky but not impossible. His unknown, illegitimate weapon project - no idea). These reasons were not yet enough to turn them back.

Until the alarm sounded. Natasha paused.

"What have we not noticed?" She asked.

"I do not know." Even the Winter Soldier's confidence was shaken a little. The power of surprise was no longer with them. "We're retreating!"

"No! We are here to finish this mission, not to fail it!"

Not waiting for a response, Natasha started running, followed by her partner, but he was far left behind. Lost in the maze of red-lighted corridors. He could not rely on his hearing in the loud noise of the sirens.

By the time he reached the hall representing the heart of the house, dozens of soldiers lay frozen in the blood behind him.

And Doom was there, with Natasha, who was trapped in his claws. Bucky was expected to arrive, and he was welcomed with more than twenty pistol barrels pointing at him.

"Let her go and we'll leave!" He tried to hit his strongest voice.

"No one is left alive who dears to bother Dr. Doom's house and its people!" Doom's words thundered between the walls. "Agents are being sent to stop me from pursuing my ambitious plans! This is not the day when I will fail! Kill him!" Then he pushed Nathash in front of a group of his soldiers.

"No!" But it was too late. Bucky had never seen fear in her eyes before, yet when the bullets hit her body, she seemed to be scared and alone. Only she existed as if she had been shipwrecked in the middle of the great sea. She even cried out for help, but she had already known there is no hope for her.

At that moment, an explosion shook the room and cracks ripped through the ceiling.

Without thinking, Bucky threw himself at Natasha, screaming because of the impact of the debris hitting his back. His instincts have long told him that his companion, his love, is gone. Even as the dust settled, he curled over her body. He sobbed quietly while still defending Natasha's lifeless form. A firm hand gripped his shoulder.

"Barnes ..." It was Fury. His voice was unusually broken.

"Everything happened so..." Bucky groaned, lifting his weight from the body. Natasha's face was covered with dust, her eyes staring at the ceiling, or rather just in its place.

"... fast. We were already on our way, but it was late."

Fury closed the lifeless eyes forever.

"Hand over the body, soldier!"

"No!" Bucky shouted, clutching Natasha. He stroked the red curls as if like that he can make life return to her.

"No..." He cried. The events were just beginning to materialize in him. "She could not die! Take her, examine her!"

"You can see that she is been fatally wounded. The best we can do..."

"No."

Bucky stood, with his lover's body in his arms.

"I'll take her with you wherever you send her."

"In this case, follow me." Fury led him. Bucky was stricken with severe nausea when he saw his own bloody gown and prosthesis. He didn't own a single drop of that red liquid. Other times he would have been ashamed that others see him cry, but he didn't care now. He let him quell his painful cries resound in the quinjet carrying them...