The aftermath of the attack left the SHIELD compound in disarray. Agents scurried around, tending to the wounded, assessing the damage, and securing any remaining threats. You and Natasha worked side by side in silence, the unspoken tension still lingering between you.

Hours later, the situation was under control. The intruders had been captured or neutralized, and the compound was secured. Exhausted, you found yourself in a quiet corner of the building, trying to process everything that had happened. Natasha approached, her expression cautious.

"Y/N, we need to talk," she said softly.

You looked up at her, the anger and hurt still simmering beneath the surface. "What's there to talk about, Natasha? You left me to rot in that cell. You thought I was dead."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know. And I'm sorry. I made mistakes, but I never stopped caring about you."

You stood up, facing her. "Caring about me? You didn't even check on me, not once. Do you know what it's like to feel abandoned by the one person you thought you could trust?"

Her eyes filled with regret. "I was scared, Y/N. Scared of facing you, scared of what I'd see in your eyes. But that doesn't excuse what I did. I should have been there for you."

The weight of her words hung in the air. You wanted to forgive her, but the pain was still too fresh. "I don't know if I can ever forgive you, Natasha. But I do know we have a job to do. Let's focus on that for now."

She nodded, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Agreed. But know that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere this time."

You both spent the next few days helping with the cleanup and reinforcing the compound's defenses. Despite the unresolved tension, you worked well together. It was a reminder of the bond you once shared, a bond that was now strained but not entirely broken.

One evening, as you were finishing up some paperwork in the control room, Bucky walked in. "Hey, you got a minute?"

You looked up, grateful for the distraction. "Sure, what's up?"

He took a seat across from you, his expression serious. "I heard what happened between you and Natasha. I know it's none of my business, but I wanted to say something."

You raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

Bucky leaned forward, his gaze steady. "I've been where you are. Betrayed, abandoned, left to fend for myself. It's not easy to forgive, but holding onto that anger... it eats you alive. Natasha made a mistake, but she's trying to make it right. Maybe give her a chance."

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "It's not that simple, Bucky. She left me when I needed her the most."

"I know," he said quietly. "But people make mistakes. We're all just trying to survive in this messed-up world. If there's even a chance you can rebuild what you had, isn't it worth trying?"

His words struck a chord. You knew he was right, but letting go of the hurt was easier said than done. "I'll think about it," you finally said.

Bucky nodded, standing up. "That's all I ask. Just... don't let the past ruin your future."

After he left, you sat there for a long time, contemplating his words. Maybe it was time to start healing, to start rebuilding. You didn't have all the answers, but you knew one thing: you couldn't keep running from the past forever.

The next morning, you found Natasha in the training room, practicing her moves. She looked up as you entered, a mixture of hope and uncertainty in her eyes.

"Hey," you said, taking a deep breath. "We need to talk. For real this time."

She nodded, setting aside her training. "I'm listening."

And for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

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