Marvel One-Shots

4. Remember Me (Part I) - Winter Widow

NATALIA'S P.O.V.

I glance at the door. They'll realize where I went any second now. I was trained to handle almost any situation in the field, but breaking a former serial killer out of a cryogenic freezing chamber while being chased by numerous governments hasn't really come up before.

With the push of a button, the clear tube that seals the Winter Soldier in cryofreeze lifts, accompanied by a faint hiss. A wave of cold air hits me as I sling his blue backpack over my shoulder. Before he went on the run, Steve packed it for his friend in case we ever needed to unfreeze him in a hurry.

I'm pretty sure this qualifies as a hurry.

The footsteps approaching in the hallway aren't quiet at all, but then, they're probably not a master assassin. I slide open the door, and with a single shot, one of General Ross' soldiers falls to the ground. General Ross himself won't be far behind, though.

At the sound of my gun, the Winter Soldier's eyes snap open. His body sags forward, caught by the strap around his chest. I slip my gun back into its holster. He watches me carefully as I approach him and unbuckle the strap holding him in place. He tumbles forward and I catch him, looping his right arm over my shoulders so he can lean on me.

"Who are you?" he croaks groggily.

"I'm a friend of Steve's," I say. "Call me Nat."

"You were at the airport," he mutters. "You helped me and Steve get away."

"Yeah," I say. Some small part of me wishes he really remembered me, but I push the thought away. "We don't have much time. I'll explain the rest in the car. Can you walk?"

He tries, but ends up leaning on me again. His missing arm is causing him to be really imbalanced and he's still pretty stiff from the ice. Okay, I think, this is going to be slightly harder than I thought. Slightly.

We shuffle awkwardly down the hall towards the staircase. Luckily, the room they froze him in was only two stories above street-level. But General Ross and his men are in the building, and that may complicate things a bit. He leans against the wall as we descend, but keeps his arm over my shoulders for balance.

Everything seems completely normal as we leave the staircase and make our way down the hallway towards the door. However, in the words of Sam Wilson, I'm paranoid. This seems way too easy. Unfortunately for us, I wasn't paranoid enough this time.

In a matter of seconds, we're completely surrounded by at least a dozen soldiers. General Ross blocks our path to the door, smiling arrogantly.

"Well, well, well. We meet again, Agent Romanoff," he says.

"General, if you'll excuse us, we need to get going." I say with a slight smirk.

"You aren't going anywhere, Miss Romanoff, unless you count jail. Now, do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?"

"How about my way?"

Gunfire erupts. In a matter of seconds, I have a gun in each hand and I'm taking down soldier after soldier. The Winter Soldier staggers away and slumps against the wall. I've just taken down the last soldier when I hear the click of a gun.

"Drop it, Romanoff," Ross says coldly. I turn around slowly, but I don't drop my weapons. "Drop them," Ross orders. "You and I both know I have no problem pulling the trigger."

In one quick movement, the Winter Soldier tosses an EMP - one of my EMPs - at Ross. It knocks him out on contact. I turn to face the Winter Soldier. He must have taken it from my pocket when I wasn't paying attention. "Sorry," he says, "but I wasn't gonna kill him."

He leans against me again as we stumble past Ross and out into the glaring sunlight. "Come on," I say. "The car's over here."

A silver pickup waits in the shadows, just like planned. We stop at the passenger side and he slowly climbs in, taking the backpack with him. I cross to the driver's side, climb in, and start the car. It's going to be a long ride.

"What year is it?" he asks.

"Still 2016," I say.

"They should've left me under longer. I'm dangerous," he says.

"So am I," I say. "But we had no choice. They found out where we were and we all had to run."

"Where's T'challa?"

"At a UN meeting. We decided it was best for him to act like nothing was wrong. We just never imagined they'd come so soon."

"And Steve?"

I pause. "Steve...he's with Sam."

I should know better. He's the one who trained me, he always knows when I'm not telling him everything. Or at least, James always knew.

"What's going on, 'Nat'? Is that even your name?" he asks.

I sigh. "Nat is a nickname. Truth is, Steve has been framed to appear as though he is a member of Hydra. The others are wanted for breaking out of a top-security prison."

"And you?"

"The list of things I'm wanted for goes on and on, James," I say with a laugh. Only a split second too late do I realize my mistake.

Something flickers in his eyes. "My name is Bucky," he says quietly. It feels like a punch to the stomach.

"Right. Bucky." The word feels unfamiliar as I say it, because for so many years I've associated his face with the name James.

He starts rummaging through the backpack with his hand. I watch out of the corner of my eye. Clothes, a gun, some notebooks, and, randomly, a few plums. He takes out the notebooks and puts everything else back inside carefully.

"What's in the notebooks?" I ask, keeping my voice as even as possible.

"Basically, my memories."

I take my eyes off of the road and look at him questioningly.

"Whenever I remember something, I write it down. If I'm lucky, I can find a photograph that relates to it."

"How much do you remember?" I ask. I'm treading on very thin ice here.

"Almost everything," he says. "I remember everything up until the '40s, but my memories don't pick up again until I killed the Starks. I only remember the people I killed during that time, nothing else."

I guess whatever they did to him worked, then. They punished us both when they found out about our relationship, but his punishment was much worse than mine. James really is gone.

I stare out the windshield blankly. Now isn't the time to get mixed up in old feelings.

"What about my arm?" he asks uncertainly.

"Don't worry," I say calmly, "I know a guy."

TO BE CONTINUED...