Warning: darker and possibly triggering.
It had been years. Years since the death of sergeant James Buchanan (Bucky) Barnes. Little Anya had been raised by mostly her aunt and uncle although her mother tried her hardest. She was now 7 years old. Her mother disappeared for long hours of the day, trying to support them with her husband's income gone. She returns bone tired late at night, so late that Anya often stays at Peggy's house.
Steve suffers from PTSD and nightmares. Sometimes he and Nat will seek solace in each other and drink until the bartender kicks them out. Well, Steve'll drink but Natasha can't afford to. The worst is the advancements. She's now the most eligible widow in Brooklyn and unfortunately several people have tried to take advantage of that. Steve and Peggy usually help her but sometimes she has to face them alone. Like tonight.
It's coming close to the anniversary of his death and she feels the depression trying to pull her down. She's walking home late at night, late enough to know that Anya will be sound asleep in her aunt's bed. Her trench coat is wrapped tightly around her. Exhaustion has hollowed out her face and so her lips and cheek bones stick out prominently in the dwindling lamp light. Another rejection letter is clutched in her hand, the boss only accepting those who'll sleep with him.
It's all very scandalous but since the men came back from the war women have lost the footholds that they'd gained in their absence. It was back to square one.
Anyway, it was on her way home when she encountered the two rather intoxicated men. They staggered into her path and she tried to politely move around them. Unfortunately it wasn't as easy as that. One pushed her roughly against the wall. She squirmed out of his grasp. She recognised him as Alexei, the most eager to fill in James's place. "Come on baby, let me show you some fun."
"You're drunk."
"I'm sober enough to know I'm getting what I want tonight, one way or another." He grabbed her roughly but she slapped him across the face.
His head swung to the side and when he turned to look at her he bared his teeth in a malicious grin. "So that's how it's gonna be." He pressed even close to her than he already was and clawed at her tights. His other hand gripping her firmly by the waist. She raked her nails along his cheek but if anything that seemed to make him more eager. She felt the material rip before she curled her hand into a fist and flung it in wild desperation. It landed solidly on his nose and created an audible crack.
He staggered back and she took the opportunity to run. However the second goon caught her by the cost and swung her round, flinging her to the floor. Her head connected with the concrete and everything became disorientated. Her vision blurred and swayed and she was dimly aware of hot blood running into her eye.
A heavy weight sat on her legs and she tried to shift it. Nothing was making sense, everything was slow, her thoughts were jumbled. She heard a grunt and the second goon dropped to the floor like a sack of flour. The figure on top of her suddenly disappeared and she tried pushing herself into an upright position. Another dark shape stood in front of her. She flinched back.
"Nat? Nat can you hear me? Peggy sent me to come find you." Steve's voice filled her ears and she finally made out his concerned face hovering above her. He helped her up and she just started sobbing. He held her to him and whispered soothing words.
Slowly they started to make their way home. "You gonna be ok?" She nodded.
"Thank you Steve." Her voice was hoarse.
"Anything for family right?" She nodded again.
"Take care of Anya will you?"
"Of course Nat, she's at our house safe and sound." She smiled and nodded.
"Good, good. Take care of Anya." She detached herself from him and wobbled up the stairs. She fumbled with the keys before unlocking the door and stepping inside.
She shut it behind her and stumbled into the kitchen. She sat by the stove and cried. The cold stone soothed the open cuts on her legs. They were going to get infected but she couldn't care less. Thoughts swirled around her head, all in disarray but holding the same meaning. "Come back to me James. Please."
It was early morning and dawn was just peeking through the little gap in the curtains. Natasha hadn't moved from her position. Knowing Anya was well loved and taken care of, she'd been entertaining the idea of joining her late husband. Not here in the house, she couldn't do that to Steve or Peggy and definitely not Anya. Ever since Peggy had had a miscarriage Anya had practically become their child. Not that she minded, it just made this easier. Taking in a deep breath she lifted herself off the floor and headed towards the door.
No one should be up at this time of the morning and there was really no need for a coat. The Brooklyn bridge should do it.
"Natalia." The voice of James stopped her.
"Don't do this James, don't try and stop me."
"Stop you?"
"I want to be with you again. I can't do this anymore, I've tried I really have. Anya is safe and loved with the Rogers family. That's something I can't provide her with."
"You can't love her?"
"I love her, of course I love her but I don't have time to spend with her. I'm too busy trying to support us. At least with the Rogers she doesn't have to worry whether her mamma will be coming home tonight or not."
"How did this happen?"
"Just stop James! You're dead. You're dead and I might as well be. If it weren't for Anya I would have thrown myself off a bridge the moment I heard the news. Now Anya's ok I don't have to worry anymore."
"Natalia." Tears were streaming down her face but she turned towards the voice. Usually she saw his form in her most broken and fragile states. Today was no different. He stood there, as real as if he were living.
The only different part was when he touched her. His warm hard brushed the tears from her cheeks as he stared into her eyes sadly. "What happened to you?" He took in the ripped stockings and gash through her brow.
"Who did this?"
"James?" She dared not believe it.
"Yes Natalia, I'm home."
"But how?"
"The government needed a test subject, luckily their experiment worked." He lifted up his sleeve and showed her an artificial arm that glinted in the low light.
"You're really here?"
"I'm here." That was all she needed. She threw herself into his arms and they embraced. He captured her lips with his own and they shared a tender moment. She clutched him as close to her as she could, afraid that if she let go he would vanish.
"You're real?"
"Every bit of me." She sobbed as he cradled her to him. They ended up sinking to the floor and crying. He rocked her back and forth gently and kissed her hair.
Between tears and choked breaths they exchanged stories. James was furious at himself for leaving her but not as furious as he was at those men. "Where are they?"
"Gone James. And besides, it doesn't really matter."
"Of course it does doll, they assaulted you."
"They weren't the first James. Please just enjoy this. We're together again."
"Yes we are. Now where's my little girl?" She cracked a watery smile.
"Not so little anymore."
