Into The Red

.No turning back.

Chapter 11.

The hum of the helicarrier's engines was deafening, filling the sterile, metallic space with a constant vibration. For Natasha, the noise was just another layer of the fog in her mind as she moved through the cold corridors. She had never felt more disconnected from everything around her. It was as if her body was there, moving on autopilot, but her mind was somewhere else—somewhere far away, lingering on what had happened between her and Bucky. That kiss. That fire. It was still there, burning beneath her skin.

She was trying to focus, trying to push away the thoughts of him, but it was impossible. The sting of his hands on her, the heat of his body against hers, his words—the truth of what they'd become—it was all still fresh. She hadn't expected it to feel like this, like a wound that wouldn't heal, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.

The door to the briefing room slid open, and Natasha entered, already knowing that something was off. She felt the eyes on her as soon as she stepped inside—the silent, disapproving stares from the higher-ups, the ones who knew what she'd been up to. They had always been watching, always waiting for a reason to tear her down. But this time was different. This time, it wasn't just her reputation on the line. It was more than that.

"Romanoff," Fury's voice broke through her thoughts, sharp and cold as ever. "Sit down."

She complied without a word, taking the seat that was motioned to her, but she didn't look up. She kept her head down, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, knowing that the storm was coming. She could feel it in the air—the thick, suffocating tension.

Behind her, the door slid open again, and the last person she wanted to see stepped into the room. Bucky.

He was walking like he didn't belong there, like he knew his time was running out. His face was as hard as ever, unreadable, but she could see the way his jaw was clenched tight. There was a slight tension in the set of his shoulders, a quiet wariness in his movements. He wasn't looking at her, but she could feel him—his presence, like a shadow at her back. He might not know it yet, but they both knew this moment had been coming. It was inevitable.

Fury's eyes flicked between them, his expression tight with barely contained anger. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating. Finally, he spoke.

"We have a problem."

Natasha kept her gaze fixed on the table, not trusting herself to look at Bucky. She could feel the heat between them, the unbearable weight of what they'd done, hanging in the air like a heavy cloud. They had broken every rule. They had crossed every line, and now, the consequences were coming.

"I should've known better," Fury continued, his voice a low growl. "I should've seen it sooner. I warned you both—this is exactly why I don't trust you two together. I trusted you, Romanoff, to keep things professional, but you couldn't even do that. And Barnes..." His voice turned steely. "You're supposed to be our soldier, not some... some liability."

Bucky didn't flinch at Fury's words, but Natasha could see the way his fists tightened at his sides. His anger was simmering just below the surface, barely contained. He knew it was coming, but that didn't mean he was ready to take the punishment. Neither of them were.

Fury's voice lowered as he turned his attention to Bucky. "You're being reassigned, Barnes. Effective immediately. Your mission with Romanoff is over."

Natasha's heart skipped a beat, but she kept her gaze fixed. She couldn't let Fury see the panic building inside of her. The idea of losing him—of being without him again—was unbearable. But she couldn't show weakness. Not now.

Bucky's jaw tightened. "I'm not going anywhere," he said quietly, his voice calm but deadly. "You don't get to decide that."

Fury didn't flinch. "Oh, I do. And you'll comply. You've broken protocol, Barnes. This—this thing with Romanoff—it's not just a problem for you. It's a problem for everyone. You've put us all at risk."

Natasha's eyes flicked toward Bucky then, catching the pain in his expression for the briefest of moments. It was gone in an instant, but she saw it—he knew it, too. He understood the consequences. They both did.

Fury's eyes locked onto hers, and Natasha stiffened. "As for you, Romanoff... I'm disappointed. You've always been one of my best agents, but this—this was reckless. We gave you a mission, and you failed. You let your emotions get in the way. You're lucky I'm not throwing you into the brig. But don't think this is over. You're not off the hook."

There it was—the final blow. Her heart sank, but she forced herself to stand tall, to hold her ground. She wasn't going to let them see how badly this hurt. She wasn't going to break. Not here, not now.

"I'll take my punishment," she said flatly, her voice steady, betraying none of the fury and regret that burned inside her.

Fury nodded, a hard smile creeping across his face. "Good. You're dismissed."

But as Natasha turned to leave, she couldn't help but glance at Bucky once more. He was watching her now, his eyes dark, filled with something she couldn't quite place. He wasn't angry at her—not like Fury was. But there was something else there, something deeper, something that she didn't know how to deal with.

She turned away before she could get caught in it, her steps quick and purposeful as she left the room, her heart heavy with what had just happened.

Back in the training facility, Natasha was pushed through the motions as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed. She could feel the weight of it in the pit of her stomach, gnawing at her, making it impossible to focus. They had crossed a line that couldn't be uncrossed. She couldn't pretend it hadn't happened.

And then there was Bucky.

Her body ached from the tension. She hadn't seen him since that meeting with Fury. He hadn't said a word to her, hadn't even looked at her. But she knew he was feeling the same unbearable pull. He couldn't stop it either, no matter how hard he tried.

She was walking the fine line between being punished and finding herself once more in the grasp of everything they'd been holding back. It was a dangerous place to be.

Hours later, after another long day of grueling training, Natasha found herself alone in the gym, her fists pounding the heavy bag. Sweat dripped down her face, her muscles burning with exhaustion. But it wasn't enough. Nothing would be enough. She couldn't outrun the consequences, and she couldn't outrun what had happened between her and Bucky.

Her mind flashed back to their last moments together—the kiss, the heat, the violence. She hadn't been able to stop it then. She couldn't stop it now.

But maybe that was the point.

She stood there, breathless, alone in the silence, as the realization hit her. No matter how hard she fought, no matter how much she trained, the past would always follow her. And Bucky—Bucky would always be there, like a shadow in her heart.

And somehow, that felt like the only truth she had left.