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Fury has been given a piece of information, and Natasha is in his presence when he gets it. She decides it would be crueler to keep it from Steve than to let him go oblivious into the coming battle, too cruel that, should they win, he would be rewarded with heartbreak.
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She finds him doodling. It seems he’s taken an impromptu break in the middle of his regiment, and is sitting atop a table off to the side of the workout room, drained bottle of water beside his sweats clad hip, his notebook open on a raised knee, as he makes quick, even strokes with his pencil, his eyebrows furrowed. Such an innocent face, she thinks. So good. So strong, so untouched in his morals by the cruelty the world has shown him. Will this news change that? Will this be what tarnishes this relic of the good old american way?
He looks up when she first steps into the room, and smiles at her, totally carefree, eyes loose, tension free despite the coming battles they face.
"Hey, did you want the room? I’m done for the night."
"No, I got my stress out on Barton earlier, one of these days he’ll be able to pin me."
Her team member, her friend huffs a laugh at her, slowly closing his notebook, setting it aside, as he turns to fully face her, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely together. Ready to listen. Ready to help. Did he have to be so him? Right now?
"So, what can I do you for?"
Natasha hates the hesitation she feels, he’s never fully divulged this part of his life to her, but it’s not hard for a spy, for a person, to fill in the blanks, she cornered Fury too, so that helps.
"Steve….."
She’s not looking at him. She has to look at him, she owes this much to a man she is about to crush.
"Steve, we got some news, through the vine, well Fury did, still has eyes and ears everywhere, despite the shitstorm last year."
He nods slowly, but he’s picked up on her trepidation, and his eyes are dark and focused on her face, his shoulders straightened, tensed, ready for a fight.
"It seems that…it seems that Mrs. Carter, co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D., passed away sometime last night."
Her gut twists in a way she thought she wasn’t capable of, at the way his face changes. His eyes have widened, his mouth has opened, and he has drawn up and away from her, moving down off the table, as if she were an enemy that had suddenly stumbled into the room. His throat works furiously, and it looks like all the color has drained from his face. She looks down, and sees his hands are shaking.
"W-was it, was it peaceful?"
Her gaze shoots back to his face at his words, and his eyes are fixed on her face, there is so much stark pain there, but a desperate determination to know the answer to his question.
"Was she safe?"
She is glad, at least to have this information to offer him. She tries to give him a gentle smile.
"Yeah, Steve, it was peaceful. She was safe. It was okay."
The air whooshes out of him, and suddenly she can see the young boy he must have been when he first became the Captain, the one who must have fallen head over heels for a woman like Peggy Carter. They should have been destined for each other.
He makes an aborted move to the side, turning his face away, but she has seen the tears, and wishes she hadn’t. Of all people, he should not be brought to this. Not this good man.
"Th-thank you, f-for telling me, Natasha. I’m s-sure Fury would have preferred not to inform me."
"I thought it might have been more merciful to not say anything…..but, you’re also my friend Steve, and I’m sorry."
He nods his head rapidly, swallowing convulsively, and she can’t do this. Damnit. Before she has time to fully process what she’s doing, she has her arms wrapped around his waist, and is standing on her toes to brush a kiss against his cheek.
"I’m so sorry мой друг"
Steve is frozen against her for a moment, and then Natasha has warm tree trunks wrapping around her shoulders, a blond head softly pressed into her neck, and a kind giant trembling against her.
"I’m so sorry."