Winter Widow One Shots

We go Together

The evac engines screamed overhead, kicking up wind and ash as the transport began its ascent from the splintering rooftop. The quinjet's rear ramp was still lowering, groaning under strain, but time was slipping through their fingers.

Bucky's boots skidded across blood-slick concrete, his breath ragged, lungs burning from smoke. He didn't slow. Didn't think. Just ran.

He sprinted for the edge, the rooftop groaning beneath him. A chunk of rebar speared the air beside him, but he leapt—arms out, caught the edge of the ramp with both hands.

Pain tore through his shoulder as it yanked hard in the socket, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it. He swung his legs up and dragged himself inside, boots hitting the steel floor with a hollow thud. His chest heaved, vision swimming with soot and adrenaline. But there wasn't time to rest.

"Natalia—!" His voice cracked.

There—she emerged from the smoke like a ghost, sprinting across the collapsing rooftop, her braid was coming undone, half her face smeared with soot and blood. Her eyes locked on his.

Run, Nat, run.

The rooftop fractured behind her, a section caving inward with a terrifying groan, but she didn't stop. She didn't even flinch. The woman had always been fearless—suicidally so—but now, now it was for him.

The quinjet was lifting too fast. Too far.

Bucky dropped flat to the edge of the ramp, stomach scraping the steel, arm outstretched.

"Natalia!"

She leapt, the jump was wild and desperate.

Their hands met.

Fingers caught.

He clenched. Pulled. Muscles strained as he tried to haul her weight upward.

"Hold on!" he gasped.

For a split second, just one, he thought they had it. That impossible, fleeting moment of hope.

And then her fingers slipped.

He stared at his hand, where her fingers had just been.

Time shattered.

She fell.

His hand reached after her too late, clutching nothing but air.

The scream left her lips and was instantly devoured by the wind and flame.

"No—" The first word escaped him in disbelief, barely a breath. But the second ripped out of him like a wound tearing open.

"NO!"

He reached again, blindly, desperately, but she was gone. Swallowed by smoke and fire, her scream lost in the chaos.

He lunged forward, tried to dive after her, but strong arms closed around his chest, dragging him back inside.

"LET ME GO!" he roared, thrashing against the grip like a rabid animal.

"Bucky!" Sam shouted over the whine of the engines, yanking him back from the edge. "She's gone, I'm sorry Buck, but we have to go!"

"No. No!" He fought Sam's grip, heart hammering like a war drum. "She was right there, I had her! We have to go back!"

The evac shuddered, rising higher, tilting.

Below, the building was caving in, sending clouds of debris into the sky.

"Bucky, listen to me!" Sam's voice was firm, commanding. "That whole rooftop's coming down. If you go back down there, you won't make it. We already lost her, her vitals went dead. Please don't make it worse."