AN: Just a quick note that this was originally written in 2014, and even though I am currently rewriting it, it's set completely after Winter Soldier.

They were all covered in dirt and blood. Gunshots were painting the sky an ugly gray, which was a shame, the sky had just reached the time when pink and orange danced around the sun. It was Steve's favorite time of the day, and it was possibly his last time seeing it. Even if it was a mutated gray, Steve's eyes were glued to the sight as it slowly dissolved into night.

After the stars started twinkling in the sky, he tore his gaze away. For about the fifth time that day he took in his surroundings: multiple SHIELD agents he didn't know, in some dirty cellar with a gaping hole in the top, more of a ditch if anything. He was sure there a was a building above it at some point, but it had long been wrecked in the war zone they were in. It was stable enough to take refuge in though, and he had directed his team to it when things went south. Natasha was next to him, her foot tucked under her other leg as it stretched out. She didn't seem to mind that her leg was touching his, that they were so close that they were basically in the same space. In fact, she never seemed to care about personal space around him. Not when she held him tight while on his motorcycle, or when she would prop her legs on him when they were gathered on the couches in Stark Tower. Or even when she had kissed him for the first time.

He guessed their first kiss could be considered when they were undercover in the mall, dressed in strange clothes and trying to blend in while on the run. When she had pulled him down to her and pressed her lips to his before he could even register what was happening. But that was a chaste kiss, it held no meaning behind it, not like when she kissed him again not too long after. He had a good feeling about Sam, and he was right to trust his gut when he had openly welcomed Steve and Natasha into his home. Things shifted between him and Nat in that guest room. He didn't exactly understand why his trust specifically held so much meaning to her, but she had allowed him to get close to her after that. There was still a wall between them, but Steve felt as if he was slowly breaking it down. Had felt that way since she had slipped into his lap and kissed him in that guest bedroom. She had leaned in first, had told him to trust her when he showed hesitation. His hands had found her hips, and he pulled her close. Then his eyes fluttered close as he waited to feel her lips on his, but instead he felt a kiss on his jaw, and a hand on his cheek. Impatiently and completely unlike himself, he gently grasped her chin and tilted her head towards him. He surprised himself when he was the one who leaned in first, a sigh of relief escaped him when he tasted her lips. He had kissed a good number of people in his life, a few showgirls who would flirt with him and giggle to each other as he got flustered, a few women attending that ridiculous war bond tour when they had lingered and caught him backstage, and Peggy. But kissing Natasha... it was different. For starters, she was a damn good kisser, but that wasn't it. It was the first time he had kissed someone and thought to himself that it might lead to something. Had given him a sense of hope for something more than a rushed romance that would never lead to anything. He was so lost in the thought and kiss that Sam opening the door had startled him, he remained frozen in place even as Natasha calmly slipped out of his arms and thanked Sam for making breakfast. He was still dazed as she had teasingly whispered, "A little more practice, and you won't be half bad."

Though the thoughts were proved unnecessary. When they returned to New York she showed no sign of wanting anything with him, and she never even mentioned the kiss. Steve wanted to. Wanted to ask her out on a proper date, wanted to see where it could go. He had never been a coward, had never backed down even when every logical part of him told him to. But with Natasha? He couldn't face the rejection or losing her in his life. So he would remain her friend, and maybe one day he'll finally be convinced that it was enough.

"Steve." Her voice pulled him back into his current situation, and grabbed his attention. He looked at her, she really was beautiful, even with her hair in tangled curls and covered in dirt. Then he looked at her eyes, and how green they were. "Steve," She repeated, annoyed.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't listening," he said, his face flushing a little at being caught.

If she noticed him staring at her, she didn't say anything. "We can't contact anyone, we're stuck here."

Steve closed his eyes, and exhaled. He had to focus. "We tried everything?"

"Everything." She confirmed.

His eyes opened, and he tilted his head back to rest it against the wall. It all felt like too much sometimes. Sure he was ahead of the game in the forties, but that was when the most advanced thing ever created was him. Nowadays everything was so high tech and way out of his understanding. War had changed, and Steve never felt like he had any time to catch up. Those damn communication systems never seemed to work when they needed them the most, and while Steve hated to admit it, he was sure Tony could figure out a way to upgrade the outdated tech. Though it's not really his place to decide on what's outdated. All the new equipment seemed to cause more trouble than help.

"The only thing we can do is wait all the gunshots out," he decided.

"That's a terrible idea."

"Well maybe if you kept your attention on the actual mission instead of the side job Fury gave you, we wouldn't of had to run after you and waste all our ammo!" He snapped. It was rare that he lost his temper, he felt too much like his Father whenever that horrible anger coursed through him, and he tried to avoid it. But sometimes he felt like it was the same bullshit every mission. He got told one thing while SHIELD's intentions are completely different.

She crossed her arms, and Steve could swear he felt that damn wall between them get higher. "I had it handled. I told you I didn't need backup, it was a waste of resources and time," She snapped at him. She turned her head away from him. "If you want an apology," she muttered, "you're not getting one."

It was the same fight they had earlier, and Steve preferred not to relive it. The room was in a tense silence, the other agents were whispering among themselves, but Steve couldn't understand a word. He had heard his fair share of gossip around SHIELD. About the other avengers, about him, about Natasha, about him and Natasha together. He ignored it, choosing to make his presence known instead of listening in on whatever they had to say. He could see it now, the looks sent their way. Had faintly heard the complaints that he favored Natasha, and risked all their lives for her. He couldn't deny that Natasha was a main concern of his, if she refused to put her own life above her mission then Steve would do it for her. He'd do the same for the rest of his team, he lost count of how many times he had carried Tony to a bed when he had fallen asleep in his lab. Or sat quietly by Bruce to comfort him after he had turned green, or had sparred with Thor when he had needed to blow off steam. He had even tried his hand at archery with Clint, knowing the other man had a confidence boost when he had to step in and show Steve how it was done. But Natasha never really needed him, he had learned that she favored solitude in her low times. Watching her back on the field was a way to show that he cared, that while she looked after everyone else he was the one to take care of her. It backfired that night though, and even if his heart was in the right place, he really should have used his head instead. Not that he was ever good at that in the first place.

"Natasha," he said gently. She ignored him, and it felt like she was a million miles away despite her being right next to him. "Nat," he tried again. That time she looked at him, her face still impassive. "Look, we could die tonight, I don't want to die mad at each other." Her arms fell into her lap, and her face relaxed, and he took it as a sign that they were okay.

Steve had become numb to the idea of death, he figured nothing could be worse than crashing that plane into the ocean. In the end the serum had saved his life, but it also kept him conscious longer than anyone could stand in those waters. When he was a child and had asthma, his attacks would come with no warning. He would stand by as his chest seized painfully, every minute passing slowly as he waited for his breath to return to him. It was not too different, the icy water filling his lungs as he shut his eyes and willed his mind to shut off in those last few moments. He figured any way that he'll actually go will be better than that. So even as tensions ran high and the battle was not too far away from them, Steve felt strangely calm. At peace, he guessed, he had his fair share of time even if it never really felt like it. But looking at Natasha, he felt a strong need to know one thing. And if it was his time, he decided he might as well ask. "Why did you kiss me?"

"We were undercover, Steve. It was a distraction," she said.

"You know that's not what I'm talking about," he prodded gently.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I don't know," she said simply.

"Have you ever wondered if, if maybe there was something that could have happened between us?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," he started, "there was a reason you kissed me. I just wish we got a chance-" His ears picked it up before anyone else's. Footsteps. Above them, not too far away either. He motioned for everyone to hide, and pressed a finger to his lips in an order to remain silent. Without thinking, he was gently pulling Natasha into a dark corner. Concealing her body with his own as she curled up next to him,

"Nat, there's a big chance that we're going to die," he whispered into her ear, the strands of her hair tickling his face.

She didn't say anything, probably for the better given their situation. But she reached up and captured his lips in a kiss. It felt like a goodbye, Steve's kiss with Peggy had already taught him what that felt like. They shared a look when they parted, one of understanding before they quickly pulled back into the shadows. If they never got their time together, then he had to say it. At least once.

"Natasha, I love you."

Situation be damned, she turned to him, eyes wide in shock. His eyes widened too, as the realization fully set in of the weight of his words. The footsteps got louder, and it effectively captured his attention. If he could just see how many there were, he was sure he could take them down on his own. Keep everyone else and Natasha safe.

Feet landed soundly in front of them as someone dropped down to their level. One. He could take one person. He was already rising, reaching for his shield, but so was Natasha. He gave her a warning look, hoping she understood that he was doing this alone. If she did then she ignored him, already to her feet and reaching for her widow bites. But then the intruder turned around, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief when Maria's face came into the light.

The backup had handled their mission. And Steve tried not to let that bother him so much as they returned to the quinjets. Natasha was quiet, falling behind and walking alone. He wanted to say something to her, take it back or explain himself to her somehow, but he figured it wasn't the time. Although as he thought about it, he didn't want to take it back and he sure as hell couldn't explain why. So he kept to himself, and tried not to think about what Natasha must have thought about his words. Maria fell into step besides him. "What happened this time?" She asked as they stood by and watched everyone board the quinjets.

"Don't want to talk about it," Steve dismissed, gesturing for Maria to enter before him.

The agents already in their seats did not seem pleased with him, and he knew he messed up. But as his eyes landed on Natasha, suddenly he didn't care. If something had happened to her- Well then he didn't know what he'd do. And he didn't really want to think about it either.

The only seat available was besides Natasha. Not a surprise, he always sat next to her anyway, he didn't think anyone else would bother to take it from him. But the usual comfortable silence between them was replaced with a tense silence that Steve found himself hating. Steve never understood how people avoided confrontation, how can anyone stand to always have something hanging above their heads? He guessed some people are able to drop things, to move on and forget. But that's not Steve, and it's not Natasha either. "I hope I didn't scare you with what I said earlier," he said.

"You didn't," she insisted, but she refused to look at him.

"Something's telling me that I did," he pushed.

"Steve," she said firmly. "It's fine."

It didn't feel fine. But he relented, and he sat back in his chair as he tried not to think about how he screwed up his chance with her. If there was a chance to even begin with.

But then a hand slipped into his, and he felt as she squeezed his hand in a comforting manner. She was hiding a smile when he looked at her, fighting the muscles in her face as she tried to keep her face blank. They said nothing all throughout the flight, but having her hand in his was enough. It meant that whatever he was feeling, that there was a small chance that she felt it too. They landed quickly and they remained seated as the rest of the agents departed. There would be a debriefing meeting in the morning, and he wouldn't be surprised if Fury himself had a few things to say to him. But he didn't care about any of that, all he cared about was that although Natasha left without a word, he could still feel the warmth of her hand in his.

AN: I've been rewriting a few of my old fics, and this one had always been a favorite of mine. I thought it deserved to be expanded on and I hope old readers can agree with me. Let me know how I'm doing and leave a review please!