look after you × winterwidow & oc

III. do you remember her?

After stroking his hair one more time Natasha slowly pulled back, much to James' displeasure. He wasn't planning on letting her go, so instead of taking a step back, all she managed to do was make him move his head from her shoulder to her forehead, putting his own against hers. She let out a chuckle and send him a gentle smile.

"I need to ask you a question," she whispered, trying not to break the magic of the moment. "But to do so I also need to show you something so you have to let me move."

He muttered something under his breath and let her go reluctantly. Natasha reached inside her jacket, to the pocket which contents felt weirdly heavy for the past half an hour. She unfolded the plastic bag first and then took the top photograph out, leaving the rest inside, for now, hoping she'll get to take them out later.

After all, Natasha had no idea what she was about to hear. To be honest she didn't even consider the possibility of James saying "no". If he remembered her, how could he forget his daughter? She looked at the small polaroid picture in her hand. It was the oldest one she had, the girl looked the most similar to the way she did the last time he saw her.

It was taken a few months after she joined S.H.I.E.L.D. The change was already visible, she put on some weight and wasn't as terrifyingly skinny as she used to be, but still was petite. Her hair finally had a chance to grow a bit after years of being cut short in a very boyish way. But what was most important, she was smiling in this photo. The smile didn't quite reach her eyes yet but the constant fear in them was very slowly starting to fade away. And back then it was the most sincere smile Natasha had ever seen on that face.

She looked around the tiny apartment and her eyes stopped at the worn-out couch. She came closer and took off her jacket before throwing it over the backrest. She sat down and waited for James to join her, ignoring his puzzled look. He sat close to her, their legs almost brushing. Natasha exhaled loudly, hoping everything will go according to plan, and handed him the photograph.

"Do you remember her?" she asked when he gently took the picture from between her fingers.

He looked at it for quite a while, in complete silence, holding it in both hands. Natasha was staring at his side profile, waiting for his reaction. Any glimpse of recognition on his face, anything. For a long time, his expression was completely neutral, maybe a bit confused. But then his finger skimmed over the paper, where the girl's face was, almost like he wanted to stroke her hair.

"You did it." he finally muttered "You saved her."

He took his gaze off the picture and his eyes met Natasha's. In them was the most grateful look she has ever seen. And they were glistening. With tears.

"I made you a promise, didn't I?" she reminded. That promise was like a sacred oath to her. She would save that girl and get her out or die trying. "Her name is Ekaterina. Ekaterina Yakovlyevna Romanova, but everyone calls her Katya. I couldn't give her your last name so the first of your choice and the middle one after you is all I could do."

James' breath caught in his throat. He shook his head in disbelief and glanced at the picture once again.

"How am I supposed to ever repay you for everything you did for her?" his arms started shaking, his breath quickened, and then Natasha realized he was trying to stop himself from crying. She reached out to stroke his back, trying to offer some comfort.

"You don't have ever to repay me for anything," she said softly. "I'm not here to collect a debt, Yasha. I wanted you to see your daughter and if anyone has any thanking to do, it's me that should be thanking you for trusting me with her."