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"We're gonna find her, Buck," Steve promised, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Her and Stark both. They're gonna be okay and we're gonna bring them back." He had no idea how, but Steve trusted Peggy enough to know that she'd be moving heaven and earth to find their lost comrades back in that little town. It might take her a bit, but Steve knew she'd come through, no matter the outcome.

"You didn't have a choice," Steve also reminded him. "Some orders are harder to follow than others, I know, but that's our job. It's rough, but we gotta do it."

Then Dugan whistled, calling out for them to get their asses in a truck before they got left out here in the shitty weather and had to walk back, again.

Bucky knows he didn't have a choice but it doesn't make it feel any better. He'd thought unburdening himself to Steve would make it better, too, but it isn't. Now Steve is just one more person who knows just how much Natalia means to him - and Steve doesn't even know the half of it.

He doesn't know that she only uses Natalie out in public and uses her real name with him. He doesn't know that Natalia wraps herself up in his arms at night and whispers moya zvezda as if he's something to set up in the sky and guide her home. Steve doesn't know about the night they'd spent at their place, frantic and fleeting, and he definitely doesn't know about the ruined dinner or the walk in the rain or him saying he loved her before any man in his right mind would say something like that.

Bucky isn't sure if Natalia loves him or not. She's fond of him, absolutely, but they haven't been together long enough to love. He loves because his brain's been all twisted up by her but he doesn't know if it's quite that strong on her side. He wishes he could have heard it once before losing her forever.

"You look like you're burying her and we haven't looked," Steve points out. Bucky cuts him a sharp look and keeps quiet, turning up the collar of his coat to ostensibly block the wind and his expression from everyone else. When they get back into the village and find Agent Carter, Steve takes the lead asking questions.

"Any idea where our plane might be, Agent Carter?"

Peggy was waiting for them when the convoy rolled up the slushy hill to the small town. She gave them a nod as they pulled up, and also gave directions where they could hide the vehicles and the cargo stacked in them. To Steve, Bucky, and Phillips, she said after pulling them aside, "...in Germany, I'm afraid. Stark managed to keep the plane in the air until they crossed the border, but if the locals are correct, it went down somewhere near Fischingen."

She lowered her voice further, adding, "We're in Rosenau, next to the river. Fischingen is about twenty-three kilometers inside occupied Germany, and there's an enemy garrison encamped just outside the town. If Stark's alive, we can hope his money and influence will get him back across the border, but we don't dare set foot across it to retrieve him."

"I'll go."

It's stark in the room, little room for argument. He might not be the highest ranked officer here or even worth more than just the good eye he has with a gun but there's no way he's letting the possibility of Natalia being alive in occupied Germany go by without him at least trying to save her.

Stark was just a bonus. He's far from the main objective for Bucky but dimly he knows that the man is important to America and the only reason they'll even consider letting him go in after Natalia. Stark has to be rescued no matter what and he'll make sure it happens.

"I'll go by myself. One guy with a rifle is a hell of a lot easier to hide than a whole unit. If I don't see anything, I'll come back."

Phillips grudgingly gave Barnes leave to make the trek, figuring that if he only lost one soldier, that was a damn sight better than the entire damned unit. The fact that it was Rogers' best friend who was so bloody adamant to go wasn't ideal, but there didn't seem to be any way to talk the idiot out of it. Steve had just shaken his head, but hadn't tried to talk Bucky out of it.

Dernier sniffed about and surprisingly found a vehicle making the trip across the border that very night, taking food and other supplies into the border towns just inside Germany, and managed to "buy" Barnes a seat amid cold cabbages and other illegals. "Just keep your American mouth shut," the Frenchman advised him. "Pretend you are a mute, or disabled, something. The truck only goes a short ways inside, so you will have to make your own way after. But good luck, mon frère."

Bucky doesn't know any German but he thinks he can keep quiet enough to not make any waves. He has a rifle with him but he's tucked it under his uniform in such a way that if he holds himself just right, he doesn't look like he has it. His sidearm he's tucked down into one of his cargo pockets. If he can get past the enemy garrison and get close enough to Stark, he can see them out.

It's a short ride, though, and he has to trek the rest of it alone. It's easier this way, alone and in the snow, and he manages to find a vehicle he can steal that will make the way easier. He goes without headlights and hopes for the best; the plane crash site is still smoking in the distance but it doesn't look like it's been picked over yet. The Germans surely must know about it but maybe they don't realize who they have.

He gets close enough to see the back of Howard Stark and he whistles low to get his attention. He doesn't want to suddenly cause an issue where there isn't one so he carefully picks his way up through the wreckage.

"Where's the other two?"

"Barnes!" Howard jerked upright with a startled yelp, but nearly collapsed in relief as he recognized this silent newcomer. He'd been digging through the metal, looking for whatever pieces he could find, and he certainly looked as if he'd been in a plane crash; his fine clothes were ash-stained and torn, stinking of smoke and fuel.

The genius was shivering - it had begun snowing again - and he rubbed his arms for warmth. "Wish I knew. I landed all right, but couldn't stop since the brakes gave out right when we touched down. Jarvis and Natalie were here when I hit my head, but gone when I finally came to. Thank God the Germans haven't found us yet, and how the hell did you make it here?"

He looked around a little wildly. "And where is here? I know we crossed the German border, I saw the river when we flew over. Where's everybody else? Rogers? Peggy?"

"Here is outside Fischingen," Bucky says. "There's German garrison I had to sneak past earlier. Do you think they might have picked up Jarvis and Natalie and thought you were dead?"

Howard Stark is recognizable, sure, but would the average German soldier know who he was? Maybe not, looking the way he is right now. He looks like a man who's risen from the dead, is what he looks like, and so Bucky decides that he has to stay dead for the next little while. He cocks his head at the wreck of the plane.

"Anything you want to salvage out of this? If I have to go break into a German army base, I want it to be the last stop before I get my ass back to Switzerland."

Howard looked more than a little frazzled, but he was at least processing. He rubbed hands through his hair, making it stand on end and giving him the look of a crazed madman, but he turned around to what remained of his plane at Bucky's question, then shook his head.

"Don't think so. Most of the important stuff you guys tossed out of the cargo hold. Speaking of," he added with an increasing note of panic, "did you manage to recover most of it? Please say you did because I'm going to go off my rock--"

"Sir!"

The new voice echoed out of the brush and falling snow, and was tinged with a crisp British accent. Jarvis finally staggered out of the bushes, nearly falling in his haste. But he was burdened by a second figure under his protective arm, staggering along as best as it could.

"Jarvis!" Howard exclaimed, rushing past Barnes. "Natalie! Oh my God, Natalie! What the hell happened, Jarvis!" Howard started babbling in concern as his chauffeur and his secretary collapsed in the slush, the latter with her clothing torn, her curls in complete disarray, and her pale skin covered in dark sticky streaks that weren't dirt or ash.

But she was alive, thankfully, and her left hand tightly gripped a Heckler USP, and Jarvis's eyes were still a little wild. "We're all right, sir. Miss Rushman is...a little disoriented, but...I believe she'll pull through." The Brit's gaze flicked over Howard's head and alighted on Barnes. "Ah, Sergeant, thank God. Have you come to take us home, please?"

What the hell happened is a goddamn understatement. Bucky doesn't care about Stark or Jarvis any longer. What he cares about is Natalia and he rushes to her, kneeling in the snow, and brushes gentle fingertips across bruised and bloodied skin. She's injured but she's alive and that's all that matters to him right now. He could have Adolf Hitler himself ride up to kill them all and Bucky wouldn't care. He's got eyes and ears and hands on his girl and he can make sure she's all right.

"Where does it hurt?" he asks gently, almost too low for the other two to hear. "What's injured, moya lisichka, what can I do to help?"

He hadn't brought any medical supplies with him because he'd wanted to pack light and now he's cursing it because finding the vehicle had been luck he hadn't thought he'd get. It's a civilian truck, though, a farmer's truck, and he doesn't think he's got anything in there to heal these hurts. It's all right. He can get Natasha back over the river and Carter will have something to patch her up with.

"Tell me what I need to do for you."

Jarvis was in the process of reporting details to Howard, who was pacing around in the typical fashion of the useless when in an emergency, but broke off when Sergeant Barnes rushed over to take hold of Natalie. She all but fell into his arms, finally relinquishing her grip on the gun, and Jarvis carefully picked it up. "It's not her blood," the Brit told Barnes. He looked between Howard and the Sergeant.

"We jumped out, sir, right before the impact, as you remember." Howard nodded. "It took me a bit to climb out of that ditch in which I'd landed, but I eventually came across Miss Rushman, unconscious in a thicket, with the gun." His voice hitched, and his eyes went a little wild. "...along with five German soldiers scattered about...all of them...dead."

Howard blinked. Natalia shivered, whimpered, and seemed to rouse from her stupor, blinking several times. Then her eyes widened and she began to shake, but not before throwing her arms around Bucky's neck and clutching him tight. "...James..!" Stark just stared at the three of them, still not processing.

"Sir, Sergeant," Jarvis broke in, apparently used to being the voice of reason, "might I suggest we repair to the vehicle and get out of this cold? The Germans will no doubt be looking for their deceased comrades, and it would be wise to be absent of this place when they finally find them."

Jarvis is right, of course, and Bucky flips him the keys because there's no way he's driving when Natalia seems to need him so much. He's goddamned impressed that she'd managed to kill the German pat without them taking any harm and he wonders if it had been sheer adrenaline or something else. Doesn't matter. What matters is that he's here now and he isn't going to let her go for a while unless Phillips threatens to court-martial him.

"I'm going to carry you," Bucky says, lifting her up in his arms. Maybe it's more for him than it is for her but he wants to make sure she feels safe and warm and all the things she deserves. He's shaken up from the day, more than a little, and he didn't even go through half of what she had. He settles in the back of the truck, thankful it's got a camper top, and tugs Natalia back against his chest.

"I'm sorry I didn't stay. They made me go."

She was shivering almost uncontrollably, her arms wrapped tight around herself even as she huddled into James's chest once the truck began to move. All she could remember was fire, the plane rumbling like a monster as it slammed into the ground, being thrown out of it by Jarvis, and Howard yelling as he followed. Then came flashes of gunfire, angry shouts in German, and next she was waking up to see Jarvis standing over her, trying to get her up out of the snow and broken foliage.

There were dead men all around her.

The next thing she recognized had been her James, his handsome face creased with worry and fear, and she'd wanted to sob with relief because he had come for her. She couldn't have strung two coherent thoughts together if she'd tried, but that was fine because that thought was the only one that mattered at all.

He had come for her.

The truck bounced, making her teeth click together, and Natalia swallowed a brief scream, but she huddled as close as she could to Bucky's solid warmth, feeling as if she'd just gone through the war herself. And in a way, that was dangerously close to the truth.

Bucky unbuttons his coat and slides his arms out of it, tugging it around where he's encircled her with his arms so she can be warmed by both the cloth and his body heat. He knows she must be in shock from both the cold and whatever the hell happened and he wants to ease it, if he can. He wants to take all of her hurts and make them his own.

He kisses the top of her head and rubs her bare arms with his hands. "I got close to being court-martialed a few times but there was no way I wouldn't come for you. I cloaked it in coming for Stark but it was you I needed. I couldn't...I didn't want your last memory of me being that I left you. I didn't want you hurt and afraid and alone. I wish it had been me instead."

He's at least trained for this, been through both basic and the extensive training he'd gotten to be a Howling Commando. She's just a girl who has seen more than she ought to have and Bucky just wants to protect her from it all. "When we get back, I'll get you in a hot shower and a warm bed. I won't leave you."

She couldn't answer him right yet, her teeth were still chattering too loudly. But she gratefully accepted the offered warmth from both his body and the coat, sliding down beneath the heavy fabric to soak up all the comfort that she could. Buried under James's coat and safely away from the rest of the world, Natalia finally let the tears course down her cheeks; she'd had no choice, Stark was her only priority, and if he died, her own life would be forfeit.

And hearing this man, this good man, saying he'd tried to come for her, he'd been so desperate to get back to her, he wished he'd been in her place instead; all of that plus the absolute sincerity in his voice only made her tears come faster, and small snuffled sobs finally emerged from the middle of Bucky's chest, wafting up from beneath his heavy coat. She was hurt, she was so afraid, and she could still feel the weight of the gun in her hand, a coldly comforting weight against the onslaught of those foolish men who'd tried to apprehend her.

They'd never known what had hit them.

And now, James was holding her as if she were made of glass and so precious, cradling her to his chest as if he'd never let her go. Misery sank down on her shoulders like a heavy weight; she was nothing, a weapon, she could never deserve something so pure and good as this tender heart.

"I've got you, lisichka, moy lyubov'," Bucky says tenderly. His Russian still has a layer of Brooklyn over it but his tongue is getting used to the rhythm of it, the shape of the vowels that don't quite exist in English. He's better at it than the French he'd taken in high school and the little bit of German he knows. He's better at it because he cares about it.

"I'm never going to let anyone hurt you again," he promises. "I'm never going to let this happen again. I won't leave you. I didn't want to leave this time and I'm not leaving you again. I don't care if it means I'm insubordinate. You're more important to me than anyone."

The ride is slow so they don't attract attention and the whole time Bucky simply strokes her skin and murmurs sweet nonsense against her hair - sometimes his limited Russian, mostly everything he can think to say in English. By the time they pull up to where the base is set up, he thinks he'll have to carry Natalia to a bed somewhere. He doesn't mind it.

"We're here. Do you need my help to walk?"

Agent Carter had appropriated a small hostel, reimbursing the owners at the Army's expense, and the Commandos and their Captain had been busy setting up a communications center and getting the rest of Stark's cargo stored while Sergeant Barnes had been gone. Howard nearly collapsed in a relieved faint when he was informed that, yes, they did manage to save nearly all of his equipment, and shook off any medical examinations as he hurried out of the truck, but did, at least, make sure that there was a physician on hand to check over his staff before he vanished into the inn's depths.

Steve was there to help Bucky get Natalie out of the truck, handing her back once his best friend clambered out of the bed. Her teeth were still chattering and she was shaking, but not as violently as before. "She okay, Buck?" Peggy didn't wait for an answer, she instead directed Bucky to take her directly inside; a town nurse was waiting to look her over, and she would see to Jarvis while the others went about their duties.

In the office-turned-examination room, Natalia didn't want to let go of James, and the nurse had to veritably pry her fingers loose so she could look the bedraggled woman over. A sprained wrist, several broken ribs, a few rough contusions, and a mild concussion later, the nurse gave her a shot of antibiotics, a small bottle of painkillers, with instructions to the Sergeant about getting her cleaned up, rested, and kept quiet.

"Make sure she doesn't fall asleep for at least six hours, Sergeant," the nurse warned. "Concussion patients who drift off sometimes don't ever wake up. So, the longer you can keep her awake, the better. But get her warm, and into some clean clothes, and don't let her become too chilled."

Bucky nods. He's not going to let anything happen to Natalia under his care and he gently guides her back to the room he's decided they're going to share. It outs them to everyone but he imagines that had already been evident, considering his concern for her, and he doesn't really care. He cares about her. He settles her on the bed before going to the bathroom on this floor.

He goes and gets a washcloth and a basin with warm water to help and clean her and once he's back in the room, he shuts the door and locks it. "I'm going to clean you up a little, lisichka. Tell me if anything hurts."

Bucky puts the basin on the little night table and starts unbuttoning her shirt, careful as he pulls it away. "When you're washed off, I have some of my clothes you can wear. I thought that might make you feel better."

Her clothes felt disgusting, stained with dirt, snow, and blood as they were. She didn't protest as James began to undress her, even helping him by sliding her arms out of her blouse and tossing it aside. Natalia just nodded to everything he said, trying to corral her shivering and remain upright on the edge of the bed. The blood on her hands had dried to a dull brown, dark smears that made her stomach lurch just to look at.

She'd lost her shoes somewhere back in the German forest, and her feet were sported small cuts and scratches from their numb trek; she thought she might even have frostbite in a few toes. But she accepted the warm cloth gratefully, almost burrowing into it wherever it touched. The room had spavined heating, and being naked and damp wasn't exactly pleasant, but she wanted to get clean more than anything at all.

Her teeth finally stopped chattering long enough for her to speak, although her voice was cracked, rough. "...i-it all h-hurts, J-James."

The sound of gunfire echoed in her ears, coupled with the screams of dying men, and her knees suddenly went weak, and she whimpered in pain as she crumpled, her shaking beginning all over again.

"I know, darlin', I know," Bucky says. He keeps bathing her off, getting her clean, and once he has he gets a soft towel and dries her off as gently as he can. He's got some of his personal clothes along with army issue and he has a set of his own flannel pajamas from back home. He rarely wears them unless it's damned cold in winter but he's glad he's brought them.

It's a little awkward to dress her but he manages and he hopes he hasn't jostled her hurts too much. When she's dressed, he stands and shucks his uniform, leaving it on the floor, and slides behind her in the bed so she can lay against his bare chest.

"You have to stay awake for a little while and I know that's hard," he murmurs. "But I'm right here and I'm going to take care of you."

Natalia let James dress her without complaint; the fabric was wonderfully comfortable against her abused skin. Then he was tucking her into bed before shucking his own bedraggled clothing, and she shivered in bliss this time when he slid into bed behind her.

She wanted to turn around in his arms and cuddle close, but settled for his arms coming around her, pulling her back against his wonderfully solid chest instead. Putting her arms over his, she angled her head to fit it beneath his chin, breathing him in deep.

"...I have a concussion, don't I." More of a statement than a question. She'd dimly heard the nurse say something along those lines, but her wits had still been a little scattered during the examination. "...won't you get in trouble with Colonel Phillips, for being in here with me?"

"You have a concussion and I don't care what Colonel Phillips wants," Bucky says softly. "I have to keep you awake for a couple hours, lisichka, but then I'll let you sleep. I just want to make sure you're all right before I let you fall asleep on me."

Bucky keeps stroking her skin wherever he can touch it, soft touches against her face and neck and along her hands. He'd wanted her to be warm so she's wearing long sleeves but he wishes he could brush his fingertips all over her soft, pale skin and make her feel real to him again.

"I'm all yours tonight. Door's locked and everything I have is for you. Nobody is going to bother us and if they do, I'll shoot them."

She sighed, disconsolate, at the verification that she did, indeed, have a concussion. The headache certainly made it seem so. And she could feel the pull of lethargy, sucking at her like quicksand, wanting her to dive beneath its slumber and just rest in his arms. The brushes of rough fingertips over her exposed skin wasn't helping her stay awake, either. But at least they brought warmth, so she nestled closer and closed her eyes, just trying to breathe without panicking.

"...I killed them," Natalia suddenly heard herself say. "All of them." Five German soldiers. "They were going to find us, they were going to capture us and take us back and interrogate us and they'd have sold Howard off to the highest bidder and used Jarvis for their sick games and-and-" She suddenly bit her tongue, digging her fingernails into Bucky's forearms as she tried not to hyperventilate.

Trained though she might be, hardened to the world as she was, there was nevertheless something unsettling about purposeful murder, and the shock of recent events was taking its toll.

"You were brave," Bucky says. "You did something I couldn't even do and I don't know how the hell you did it. You're a strong woman, that's all, and you take care of yourself. You did what you needed to do to protect yourself and the people you cared about. There's nothing wrong with that."

Bucky thinks he'd have killed five times more Germans to get to Natalia if he had to. He kisses her neck, more comfort than trying to start anything, and leaves his lips there when he speaks again. His voice is low to keep from bothering her headache and right now he feels painfully intimate with her.

"They all know you're mine," he murmurs. "And that'd I'd do anything to keep you safe. I'm sorry if you wanted to keep it hidden but there was nothing keeping me from saving you, sweetheart. Nothing would keep me from you. Just breathe with me for a little while, all right?"

She let his words wash over her; not so much as what he actually said, but more the sound of his voice, the rumble of it down in his chest, that more than anything was what soothed her, helped to bring her back from that manic edge of fear. Natalia knew exactly how she'd done it - she'd let go and let her muscles take over, let her years of training transform her from a pretty legal secretary to a black widow spider, beautiful and deadly.

And she was his. It was surely no secret any longer, not with the way he'd come for her, cared for her, risked his entire military career for her. And if she were again honest with herself, being his girl didn't really seem like all that bad of a thing. It would help cement her cover, to be sure, and would also keep her in relatively close proximity to Captain Rogers and his elite unit.

Although privately, she admitted that being James Barnes' girl was just...something she wanted for herself.

It took a bit of doing, and she was again exhausted by the time she managed it, but Natalia slowly wiggled around in Bucky's arms, slid her own around his waist, and leaned up to press a shaky kiss to his soft, warm lips, inhaling his breath as she rested against him.

"Moya zvezda," she whispered, kissing him again, soft. "...thank you. ...for coming for me."

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