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Even after they reconnected, Nastasha didn’t tell Steve that she’d known his oldest friend while he was the Winter Soldier. James followed her lead, and they acted like new acquaintances during the strategizing sessions and afterwards while socializing. The only person who seemed to notice something was amiss was T’Challa’s general, who followed Natasha with eagle eyes.
James laughed one night over rich, dark coffee, when Natasha told him she thought the woman might be on to them. “That’s just how she is,” he told her. “Okoye is great, just don’t get on her bad side.”
“Too late,” she muttered, setting James off chuckling again.
It wasn’t that she wanted to keep them a secret, and especially not from Steve, who was James’ best friend and nearly such for Natasha. But after what had gone down last year with Tony- Natasha wanted to keep the fact that she’d been keeping a secret from Steve for years far away from the war that was about to make Earthfall.
“Steve is surprised you want to fight,” Natasha commented on another evening. They were seated on opposite sides of the couch, each holding a cup of tea, their legs tangled together in the middle.
“I told him I didn’t want to fight anymore,” James admitted. “But now… if it were just the planet under attack, I’d leave it to you guys. But Thanos is coming to Wakanda.”
“And this is your home now,” Natasha finished. Something hollow struck inside at the thought.
James noticed. “T’Challa said I’m welcome to stay. But I don’t know. Maybe I like the idea of traveling. Places I want to go. With the people I want to be with.” His big toe nudged Natasha’s instep, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“But they did save me,” he continued. “With those trigger words in my head, with the way my memories were, I don’t know if I’d have ever really gotten better. So yeah, I have to help defend them now.”
“They trust you,” Natasha said. She’d observed it in every strategizing session; been surprised by it, that the infamously closed-off Wakandans had chosen James, with his own infamy, to let in.
James nodded, proud of the fact. “I gotta prove they’re right to.”
They had two weeks, from the day the Avengers landed in Birnin Zana. Two weeks minus all the planning sessions, the time James spent with Steve- that she couldn’t possibly hold against them- and the time they were in view of others, and kept their emotions under wraps. But in private, in the night, they were more free than they ever had been. It might have been the best two weeks of Natasha’s life.
The night before Thanos’ army reached the solar system, they kissed in James’ doorway. It was slow and perfect. When Natasha started to untuck the folds of James’ robe, he caught her hands.
“Not like this,” he said gently. “After.”
They made a silent vow that there would be an after, and Natasha left.
On the first day of the war, they started out next to each other. The first charge was organized, as much as battle could be, but they quickly were pulled in different directions. Natasha caught sight of James fighting alongside Steve, but she had her own mission to carry out, targeting one of the command decks and analyzing their communications and weapons for sabotage.
They rotated off the field a few hours later as fresh fighters went in, sitting across from each other in a hovering Wakandan vehicle with Sam, three of the Dora Milaje, and several other Wakandan warriors. Then it was back to the thick of it for several more hours.
The fighting shifted overnight. Tony and his team from space took over while the ground team got medical attention and as much sleep as possible. Natasha didn’t see James again until the following morning, when she heard a clang behind her and spun to see him battling a four-armed alien that she’d been too tired to sense coming up behind her. His Wakandan arm thrummed with some sort of purple energy, and when he moved the alien was thrown much further than even he could have managed previously, taking out a row of its own side.
“Not bad,” she commented instead of thanking him. James winked before disappearing into the scrum again.
That afternoon, Steve went down, killed by Thanos himself. Natasha didn’t find out until the late evening, when she was cramming meat down her throat with no attention to the rich Wakandan seasoning. A body crashed onto the seat alongside her, and before she could react James had wrapped himself around her like an octopus.
He didn’t say anything, but Sam appeared nearby, his anguished gaze seeking her out, and that was when she knew.
As she sat there and let James hold her, while the nearby fighters tactfully slipped away, a morbid joke occurred to Natasha about walking it off. But Clint was in the wind, Pietro was dead, Bruce had been Hulked out for days, Thor and Tony were somewhere above the planet, and Wanda and Vision were gone on their own private mission. There was no one present from their team, their first team, who would understand. Natasha closed her eyes and let James’ sobs shake her, pretending that she wasn’t crying too.
The fight kept going. By the fourth day, Natasha had been healed of two life-threatening injuries by Wakandan technology, and her reserves were at an all-time low. They’d known it was going to be a battle of attrition, but there was always a chance that the Asgardian contingent or Tony’s space friends could come up with something to save the day. It was just a matter of holding out as long as they could.
On the fourth night, Natasha went to the tent James shared with T’Challa, close to the center of the camp. She didn’t have the energy for much of a greeting, but she nodded respectfully to the king and he nodded back to her. Both of them were resting on their cots, and though she’d intended to ask James to take a walk with her, he looked so comfortable that she couldn’t bring herself to. Instead, drooping with exhaustion, she just stood in the doorway in an awkward silence.
T’Challa sat up slowly, likely aching as much as she was despite his enhancement. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he said.
“You don’t have to,” Natasha said weakly. “I don’t mean to-”
“Of course. But you have reminded me that I should pay a visit to Nakia.” T’Challa gathered a few things, but most everything he needed was already in a bag, ready to move at a moment’s notice. “I don’t think I’ll be returning tonight.”
Natasha stepped aside to let him leave, glaring at his playful, knowing smile.
She dropped to her knees next to James’ cot, and when he lifted the blanket she simply rolled in beside him.
He didn’t speak; he hadn’t spoken much since Steve was killed. But he wrapped his arms around her, and when his breathing evened out into sleep, Natasha was able to sleep, too.
Their numbers were getting low, and what fighters remained were exhausted. It was the sixth day of unending fighting when a massive explosion went off in space, so bright that it could be seen in the light of day. A heavy series of thrumming went through the ground as vibranium in the soil transmitted a message to the fighters: their side had won a different battle, far away. A new wave of energy went through the ground troops.
At the end of the day Natasha dragged herself back to base. She limped to the med tent, where a tired Wakandan doctor silently began calibrating equipment to diagnose and treat her. She dozed off sitting up, too far gone to even notice the presence at her side.
“I hope you hit ‘em back just as hard.”
Natasha’s eyes flew open. “Steve?!”
Steve enveloped her in a huge hug, which saved Natasha from lurching off the table. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said into her hair.
“What about you?” she asked in disbelief.
“Something about the Time Stone,” he answered with an awkward scowl. “Loki and that strange sorcerer didn’t stop to explain.”
“I don’t believe it.” Natasha pinched him, only half joking, and Steve chuckled.
“I swear it’s me. I’m okay.”
“Have you seen James yet?” She held back a wince, cursing her exhaustion for the slip of the tongue.
“He’s with Shuri,” Steve said heavily. His hand on Natasha’s back, steadying her, curled around her waist like he was seeking comfort, and she leaned into him. Princess Shuri took care of the worst of the wounded. It was her concession for letting her brother keep her away from the fighting. “They said he was asking for you,” Steve told her, and Natasha knew he’d figured it out.
She gave him her blank face, but he only sighed. “We’ll talk about it the day after tomorrow,” he said firmly.
“Why then?”
“Stark swore to me now that he’s got the Infinity Gauntlet, he can sort this whole mess out by tomorrow. So I figure, either it’s all over but the shouting, or we’ll all be dead.”
The shock of that sort of joke from Steve set Natasha off laughing more than the joke itself. Steve sat down beside her until her leg was healed, and then they went to find James. In the royal palace, they learned that he would live, given a few days to heal, and they held each other closer in relief.
It was all over but the shouting. The next day was spent chasing off the last of Thanos’ army, who were desperate to escape the galaxy now that their leader was dead. Apparently Tony’s space friends were going to take care of them after that. And the next day, Shuri let James wake up.
The Wakandans saw him first: Bucky was Important People now, Steve joked as they were waiting. Natasha caught General Okoye smiling at James, and didn’t doubt it.
When it was their turn to enter, James blanched at the sight of Steve. He sat up on the medical table, and Steve rushed over so he wouldn’t overwork the delicate healed injuries. Natasha sat down and let them have their reunion.
A few minutes of quiet words later, James reached out his hand in Natasha’s direction, and she went over and took it. Their eyes met for a moment, passing silent assurance, and then Natasha braced herself and looked at Steve.
Her friend’s jaw was clenched as he watched them. He didn’t speak, because he couldn’t; Natasha could read betrayal in his eyes, and he looked back and forth between them like he wasn’t sure who it should be aimed at.
For once, Natasha didn’t know what to say. She didn’t regret not telling Steve about her history with James. It was the right choice for her, and the likelihood that the information would have ever been relevant to Steve’s search was miniscule. But Steve wouldn’t care about that. He would care that she had information about his Bucky, and she had been his friend and kept it from him. It would just be more proof that double-crossing was in her blood, and he wouldn’t forgive her for it this time.
The truth was that, when Steve began his search, Natasha had known that the chance James would ever recover his memories of her had been vanishingly small. Without T’Challa’s support and Wakandan technology, he would probably never have remembered her. Natasha might have had to spend the rest of her life making nice with Steve’s best friend, never reclaiming the first person she’d ever loved, and she had refused to let anyone, even Steve, know about that deepest, most private pain.
Unconsciously, she squeezed James’ hand, tight. He didn’t flinch.
“In Russia, when we knew each other before,” James said to Steve, “they had rules against fraternization. We had to keep everything a secret. And when they found out, they punished us.”
Steve’s anger faded. He looked at Natasha again, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. Right now, after everything, she didn’t want to lie to Steve again. This wasn’t a lie. But it was a misdirection. And it meant the world that James would as good as lie to his best friend, just to protect her.
“Okay,” Steve said at last. “I guess it’s not my business.” He clapped Natasha on the shoulder, patted James’ knee, and stepped back. “I’ve got work to do. Stay as long as you want, Nat, I’ll let the others know you’re indisposed.”
“Thanks,” she rasped, and a moment later she heard the quiet swoosh of the door.
“You okay?” James asked. His blue eyes glinted in the gentle lighting. Natasha resisted the urge to lean down and kiss him.
“I am fine. You’re the one who nearly died on me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said solemnly. He said it like someone who knew loss, and wouldn’t wish it on anyone else. Natasha wondered why she was resisting and kissed him.
James’ metal hand reached up and tangled in her hair, and thank Wakanda that it didn’t catch and snag like it used to. “Don’t do it again,” she whispered against his lips.
“Not if I can help it,” he promised. “You got me as long as I’m here.”
“In that case, I guess I’ve gotta be the one to keep you safe, huh?”
James smiled, forming crinkles at the corner of his eyes that hadn’t been there all those years ago. “You protect me, I’ll protect you. How about that?”
“Sounds like a plan.”