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001 just a ghost
Aug. 14th, 2016 12:44 amThe hallmark of a good spy is that the work is done and no one is the wiser. A good spy doesn't leave a footprint, doesn't have a calling card, doesn't have a signature. Natasha knows that she's good, infamous even, but she's not good enough. She's got her ways of dismantling situations as they arise and frequent players in the community know her style. She isn't called the Black Widow for nothing.
She's never been as good as he is. Now that she's met the infamous Winter Soldier and seen him face to face, myth and reality have begun to overlap. He's human in spite of what HYDRA's done to him and Natasha isn't certain she could have handled that much brainwashing and still recognize anyone at all; she's forcibly pushed down everything about her true identity and summoning it to the surface takes a lot of doing. She doesn't have a touchstone like Rogers or a place like Brooklyn that she cares enough about to cling to when she's dissembling. In this, the Winter Soldier has a weakness she'll never have.
(It's a weakness that's been purged out of her, over and over, both by her hand and the hands of others.)
Since they're both fugitives at the moment, Natasha finally has time to examine him up close and to compare the man who gifted her with a round to the abdomen with the man who had once been Captain America's best friend. The differences between the two are stark, the chasm insurmountable. Unraveling who and what he is will take a hell of a lot of time but if there's anything she has at the moment, it's time. It's just the two of them now, the liars and the thieves, and Natasha wonders if the liabilities that Barnes carries will ever balance out. He had started out a good man, a moral man. He'd had a compass that pointed north. All she'd ever had was the will to survive.
There's a rickety table and chairs in the kitchen of this safe house and Natasha sits down, motioning to the other chair.
"You can sit down, you know. It's just a handle. I don't actually bite."
She's never been as good as he is. Now that she's met the infamous Winter Soldier and seen him face to face, myth and reality have begun to overlap. He's human in spite of what HYDRA's done to him and Natasha isn't certain she could have handled that much brainwashing and still recognize anyone at all; she's forcibly pushed down everything about her true identity and summoning it to the surface takes a lot of doing. She doesn't have a touchstone like Rogers or a place like Brooklyn that she cares enough about to cling to when she's dissembling. In this, the Winter Soldier has a weakness she'll never have.
(It's a weakness that's been purged out of her, over and over, both by her hand and the hands of others.)
Since they're both fugitives at the moment, Natasha finally has time to examine him up close and to compare the man who gifted her with a round to the abdomen with the man who had once been Captain America's best friend. The differences between the two are stark, the chasm insurmountable. Unraveling who and what he is will take a hell of a lot of time but if there's anything she has at the moment, it's time. It's just the two of them now, the liars and the thieves, and Natasha wonders if the liabilities that Barnes carries will ever balance out. He had started out a good man, a moral man. He'd had a compass that pointed north. All she'd ever had was the will to survive.
There's a rickety table and chairs in the kitchen of this safe house and Natasha sits down, motioning to the other chair.
"You can sit down, you know. It's just a handle. I don't actually bite."
