Winter's Widow

Chapter 22

Sorry for the long chapter. I got really into it XD

Natasha's pov:

I'm sitting at my desk, the barrel of my gun pointed at my face. I'm holding the gun to my face, staring at the chambers from the front. Safety off; I don't care. I just want to stare my gun in the face. It's almost thrilling. My finger finds it's way to the trigger...

"What the fuck are you doing." The Winter Soldier on my left scares the shit out of me, I almost pull the trigger.

I quickly turn the safety back on and set it on my desk like nothing happened.

"I don't know. Nothing." I excuse myself.

"Don't ever do that again." He says sternly with a look on his face that says 'wtf'.

"I wasn't going to shoot, jeez." I say.

"Then why was the safety off, and why was your finger on the trigger?" He says that more like a statement than a question.

"I don't know." I try to bullshit him.

"Yeah, you do know." He isn't buying my lies. He knows. Shit.

"I-"

"Don't do that shit again." He says sternly. His blue eyes are burning like dry ice.

He stares at the gun on my desk.

"Buck, chill-" I make a sorry attempt to calm him down.

"No. You just had a gun at your head with the safety off." He snaps.

"Hey, easy soldier." I grin.

He looks at me with that curious, yet emotionless expression. That's the Winter Soldier alright. I think I woke him up.

"...You ok soldier?" I ask.

No response.

"...James?" I try to bring back Bucky.

No response.

"James."

Still no response.

"James!" I wave my hand in front of his face.

"Hm?" He snaps back to reality.

"There you are." I smile softly.

"Did I leave?" He asks knowingly.

"Yes. Are you ok?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." He tells me.

"He's still here. He doesn't want to leave yet." I see the soldier in his eyes.

"I know. He recognizes you."

"Is that goo or bad?" I ask.

"Both." He answers.

"Oh."

"Are you ok?" He asks after a pause.

"Always." I crack a smile.

"How long did it take you to finish the 3 quarters of that bottle of vodka on your desk?" He asks.

"About two days." I answer.

"Oh."

I take another sip from the bottle. He grabs the bottle from my hands and takes a sip, setting it on the desk after.

"Which Bucky am I talking to?" I can't tell anymore.

"James Buchanan Barnes." He answers.

"Good." I rest assured.