Winter Widow One Shots

Grief and Pain part 2

Step Six - Revenge

It had taken six months for her first real lead to come through. A lead that shattered the walls of her closed-off existence. It forced her to trust again, to rely on others. To find a purpose. She had to finish what he started. The Kronos corporation would fall, but more importantly?

Boris Morozova would die and she would be the one to pull the trigger.

But first she had to find him.

Boris kept himself heavily protected. Buried behind layers of security. It took another four months to work up the chain, to track down exactly who she needed. To dismantle the pieces of Morozova's operation and uncover where exactly he hid. Unmasking the monster bit by bit.

Through it all Clint had been beside her through every one of them. He'd been a steady and reliable presence, even when he should have been home with his wife. Laura's belly was growing larger every day.

But still he had stayed with her to track Boris down to this very moment.

She couldn't bring James back, but she could honor him. She could make him proud.

Natasha placed James' old riffle on the edge of the roof top and settled behind it, aligning her sights. If she couldn't kill Boris face-to-face, then using James' gun felt fitting - a poetic justice.

She closed her left eye and watched the room waiting for the target to enter. Boris would die today. No hesitation, he would receive a bullet to his head, to match the one he had commanded his men to give James.

Two men entered the room.

Boris led with his unmistakable blond hair. Behind him-

Her breath caught. 

The second man was darker-haired. Broader. Clad in a leather jacket.

A leather jacket missing the left sleeve.

Exposing a metal arm.

With a red star.

Impossible.

She slowly shifted the scope. Tilted it. Focused.

His hair was longer. Messier. But the face...

It was him.It was James.

"Tasha, Boris just entered, take the shot." Clint's voice echoed through her earpiece, tense with urgency.

She froze, it couldn't be. James couldn't be alive. She had seen his body. She had buried him.

"Take the shot Tasha. We are running out of time."

"C-Clint..." She whispered, her voice shaking. "It's James."

"That's not possible."

"It's him, I swear-"

"The emotions are getting to you." Clint's voice was frantic as he tried to get her to follow through. Take the shot! We won't get another chance like this."

She took a deep breath and hesitated, trying to regain her focus. Her hands trembled as she readied the shot but it was too late. Boris was exiting the room, James trailing behind him.

"Last chance Tasha, take the shot!"

"I-I can't, I'll hit him!"

Her finger slipped from the trigger.

She watched helplessly as Boris exited the room, James trailing behind like a loyal soldier.

Gone.

Just like that.

She exhaled shakily, pulse thundering in her ears. She'd had him. Both of them.
And she'd let them go.

Slowly, she packed away James' gun back into it's case. Her hands were stiff and uncertain. Had she just exchanged her chance to kill Boris, for a chance to find James? And at what cost?