UNKNOWN GUEST

#40 Can He Pull Through?

"That guy's got the strangest ideas about nuclear testing," Barton said with a dry chuckle, shaking his head. He added, "When Jason sent me that message about tracking the bug, I knew something was off. Then I heard about Fury's assassination, so I ditched my mission and came back."

Natasha, her face etched with concern, nodded without looking up, her gaze fixed on her clasped hands. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of the day's events. Barton broke it, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Can't believe it all went sideways so quickly. Just a few hours, and everything's a mess."

They fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of the situation pressing on them. Barton broke it again, his voice tentative, "So, Winter Soldier... he actually saved him?"

Natasha shook her head, her expression serious, "No, his friend, Bucky, saved him." It was clear she saw Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes as distinct entities, acknowledging the difference in their roles and identities.

With a dry chuckle, Natasha added, "Clint, when did you start trusting me completely?"

Barton hesitated, then answered slowly, "When I took you to my home, to meet my pregnant wife." His words were sincere, marking a pivotal moment in their relationship.

Natasha nodded, acknowledging the sentiment. "It took nearly five years to build that trust," she said, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and reflection.

She continued, her thoughts drifting to a different person. "There's this guy I've known for over a year. He says he'd trust me with his life." Barton's curiosity was piqued, but Natasha didn't clarify if she was referring to James or Steve. She carried on, contemplating the improbability of their connection. "He's so different from me. He's a soldier, representing a flag. I'm a spy, representing an order. How can we be so compatible?"

Clint carefully chose his words, knowing the sensitivity of the topic. "Well, it's not rocket science. A baby, moments after being born, recognizes its mother's touch. That touch is filled with trust." He paused, then added with a reassuring smile, "Trust is the bridge between people. It connects us. If this guy trusts you that much, I wouldn't let that trust break if I were you."

Natasha looked down at the tiled hospital floor, her expression thoughtful, absorbing Clint's words. Clint placed a reassuring hand on Natasha's shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. "They'll be fine," he said, his tone steady and confident. Natasha managed a shaky breath, nodding in agreement but struggling to calm the turbulent storm inside her.

She was caught in a dilemma, her heart a battlefield of conflicting emotions. Steve, critically injured, was at the forefront of her mind. Despite her best efforts to stay composed, she couldn't shake the worry gnawing at her. She'd never admit it out loud, but the truth was she was deeply concerned about him. His words, the trust he placed in her, echoed in her mind. He had saved her many times, yet now, she felt helpless in the face of his suffering. 

On the other hand, there was Jason. She couldn't believe she was still referring to a 19-year-old as a "kid." To her, he seemed like a child, even though he was legally an adult. His impulsive nature and fearless attitude were traits she associated with youth. He was blunt, taking on multiple opponents with a bravery that bordered on recklessness, yet he had this gentle way about him when he spoke. It was a curious mix that made him come across as both formidable and tender.

Every time she saw him injured, her stomach churned. It wasn't just concern; it was a visceral reaction, a feeling of dread that she couldn't quite shake. Despite the doctors' assurances that his injuries were not severe, she couldn't help but feel uneasy. The sight of him hurt—his youthful face marred by blood and pain—felt like a personal failure. It was as if, despite everything, she was unable to shield him from the dangers that seemed to follow him relentlessly.