Summary: Five years after defecting to SHIELD, James and Natalia are sent on a recon mission at a Hydra base. Predictably, it does not go as planned.

This one-shot takes place in a universe where Bucky and Natasha escape the Red Room/Hydra together.

Italics represent Russian.

There was nothing James liked less than being pulled awake from a lazy morning in by the sound of Nick Fury's voice. While the director of SHIELD could be considered a confidante―a friend, almost, despite the man's insistence on professionalism―in the five years since defecting, James had learned he could get away with a certain disrespect.

Which is why when his phone had rung, shrieking with an all-too-familiar ringtone, he'd sent Fury to voicemail without hesitation. It was his day off and by god, he was going to enjoy it. His phone only rang one more time―a call that also got sent straight to voicemail―before Fury gave up. A moment later, Natalia's phone came to life, shrieking with the same ringtone and making them both groan.

Tucking her face in his shoulder, James barely understood Natalia's muttered, "Answer it," before she curled up in his arms again.

He did as instructed, reaching over her to the nightstand where her phone lay. As he pressed the answer button, he settled back in the bed and grunted into the speaker.

"How is it that you answer your girl's phone, but not your own?" Fury's voice echoed through the receiver.

"Fuck you," James muttered in Russian. He scrubbed his face with his free hand, ignoring Fury's huff of amusement at his curse and demanding, "What do you want?

"You've got a mission," Fury answered, "and I know it's your day off and all, but this one's non-negotiable. You and Romanov both."

"If we're coming in on our day off," James grumbled, glancing down as Natalia whined, "it had better be because of the fucking KGB or goddamn nazi time travel."

He normally wouldn't cuss at the director of SHIELD―a man he very much owed both his and Natalia's lives to―but he was tired and they very rarely got time off. Five years of working independently for the organization and SHIELD still wasn't eager to leave them to their own devices, even if just for twelve hours.

"You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

* * * * *

It wasn't the KGB and it wasn't time travel, but he had not, in fact, been far off with the nazi accusation. Hydra, it turned out, was becoming a problem too large for SHIELD to handle quietly. They'd been growing for years, never fully disappearing even after Natalia and James had led a reconnaissance mission four years ago to destroy their headquarters. Despite SHIELD's intel, their attack had only had minimal impact on the organization that continued to spread and recruit agents. Budapest seemed to be their most recent headquarters.

"At least we were halfway successful," Natalia murmured to him in Russian upon Fury's confirmation that the Red Room was not involved or active.

"As it is," Fury said, cutting in before James could respond, "we need you two to handle this. An information grab and nothing more yet. Do it how you would before; SHIELD will turn a blind eye."

James and Natalia shared a look that did not go unnoticed by Fury.

"Do not make a mess of it," he said sternly, going as far as to threaten disciplinary action if he received a call from the Hungarian government.

Passing over a file that continued all their briefing information, Fury dismissed them. Wordlessly, they navigated their way through the hangar in search of a quinjet, nodding once at Barton as they passed him on his way in from a previous mission. At his confused frown, Natalia paused to murmur an explanation while James reached for their weapons. By the time she returned to his side, he was fully packed.

"Ready?" he asked, his fingers itching for hers.

Her lips twitched downward and before he could stop her, she reached forward and brushed her thumb between his brows. "I should be asking you. This is your fight, not mine."

"It's both of ours." He gently pulled her hand down, passing her the bag of weaponry and gesturing for her to lead the way onto the quinjet. "It will soon be over, though."

* * * * *

They left the jet outside of the city, sending it back to headquarters with the plan to call for extraction when needed. Now on their own with only each other and a bag of weaponry, James could feel his gut twisting with worry.

Hydra was his fight, yes, but Natalia was his concern. While Hydra had abused and manipulated him, they were all too aware of what had transpired between him and Natalia before they both defected. To have them discover her with him now would mean higher risks. The agents and handlers may have changed since his time there, but their methods would not have and he would not be surprised should they choose to target Natalia in an attempt to distract or control him.

Brushing the thoughts aside, he glanced up at Natalia who was standing lookout. Her face was perfectly unreadable.

"Hey." She turned to him. "No mistakes," he said, handing Natalia her guns.

They couldn't afford it; one slip up and they'd be done for, on their own for hours until SHIELD could send a team to retrieve them.

"No mistakes," Natalia echoed. She sealed the promise with a kiss, brushing her lips under his jaw before grabbing his collar and pulling his lips to hers. When she pulled away, breathless and frowning, she murmured, "We'll be okay, Yasha."

He nodded once and after they were both fully supplied, they moved in on the base.

* * * * *

Natalia couldn't help but keep a closer eye on James than usual. While they were both fully capable of doing their jobs, Hydra was a particularly sensitive case for him. Should Hydra get their tentacles on either of them, she knew exactly what their first mode of attack would be. So long as they got out, there would be no risk of them using James's own mind against him. She could still worry in the meantime.

Sweeping the perimeter was easy. Despite Fury's concerns, this base did not appear to be half as well equipped as either the Red Room or the base where James and Natalia had been stored and frozen for so many years. Their security was nothing to scorn, but it was also nothing to fret over. They made it across the base before the first agent had even been relieved of his position.

It wasn't until they were indoors that things became trickier.

Their comms shut off immediately which was fine because they were walking side by side, but it also meant that they had triggered a radio watchdog. The unauthorized radio waves would surely send someone out looking for intruders and seeing as they had been speaking when the comms went silent, Natalia could only hope no agent spoke Russian.

"Drop it," James hissed, crushing his comm underfoot. Natalia was one step ahead of him, a fact that showed her just how preoccupied James's mind already was.

"Breathe, James." She reached for his arm and he nodded sharply. "Get in, get out. We're halfway there."

His lips twisted into a tight smile but a moment later, they were moving forward and James's eyes had cleared a bit. She followed him half a step behind, keeping an eye on their backs and on James's shoulders. As his shoulders pulled up and back, her own gun raised and she was prepared well before he said, "Watch out."

The agent was dead in a breath and as his body fell, the tension in James's shoulders did too.

"We can do this," she reassured him, taking the lead. "No mistakes―" And, seeing as they were no longer on a SHIELD-monitored comm-line, she finished the promise with― "No mercy."

It was a saying they'd echoed hundreds of times before but had not since arriving at SHIELD where mercy was expected and mistakes were covered. With Fury turning a blind eye, however, and no comm-line to hold them accountable, there could be nothing stopping them from partaking in more violence than was authorized by SHIELD.

Where SHIELD agents would disarm and immobilize, she and James would shoot to kill.

"No mercy."

James's echoing grin made her blood thrum, adrenaline coursing through her as they rounded the corner, guns raised and steps as silent as their breath.

Against all odds, they made it into the center of the base with minimal complications. Bodies trailed after them, but Natalia retrieved a drive of information from their computer system and they were able to turn the system's security protocols against itself, promising glorious self-destruction of any data Hydra attempted to hide after they left.

They made it most of the way out of the base before they encountered any agents that made them pause, taking longer than a few minutes to dispose of. Unfortunately, by the time Natalia had taken care of the last one, an alarm had already been raised.

"Go," James urged, pressing Natalia forward as the last agent slumped. "There's a limit on our escape, now."

As a shout echoed behind them, Natalia took the lead. They sprinted through the base, taking the last set of stairs two or even three at a time just to reach the door faster. Upon exiting, however, Natalia was met with a wall of agents all wearing tactical gear. James hadn't even made it through the door before she fired on them, hoping that somehow the bullets would penetrate the thick armor.

She and James separated, but only because they were too large of a target together. James went right, Natalia went left, and somewhere amidst the split, Natalia found herself right in the line of fire.

With a gasp, she tripped over her own feet but didn't fall. Her fingers gingerly reached down and wrapped around the knife now protruding from her ribs, her eyes wide as she stared down at it. Behind them, more agents flooded the scene and more guns continued to fire, but she couldn't bring herself to worry about it. With a gasping and painful breath, she stumbled to her knees and hoped against all odds that James would leave while he still could.

He didn't.

"Natalia."

At his panicked calling, she looked up to find him on his knees in front of her. His own hand dropped to the blade in her ribs and when he pulled back with wide eyes, his fingers were bloodied.

"Go, James," she breathed, pushing him. He didn't so much as waver.

He shook his head fiercely. "Absolutely not. Talk to me."

Her throat tickled, a metallic flavor filling her mouth until―despite her best efforts―she coughed blood over his tac suit. With heaving shoulders and crippling pain in her body, she couldn't stop herself from collapsing against his chest, still spewing blood.

As blood covered his vest, James reached frantically for Natalia. She collapsed into his chest and even as the agents around them demanded that he put his hands up, he didn't.

Tangling his fingers through her hair, he gently lifted her face up until he could see her again. Her eyes were closed tightly in pain and her lips were dripping with blood, and panic filled him like never before. She'd die before they got out, he realized and suddenly he was much more amenable to Hydra's demand.

"I'll do whatever you want," he snarled, turning to them with Natalia still in his arms. "If you save her life, I'll do it. What you want."

"James, no."

He only heard her because her lips were near his ear again, her head having dropped to his shoulder when he'd turned to address Hydra.

"You'll be okay, love," he promised. He pressed a firm kiss to her temple. "We'll both be okay."

She passed out then and with a snarl, James turned his attention back to the agents surrounding them. Their guns were still raised, but they were no longer itching to shoot either of them, it seemed.

"Help her," he demanded, clutching Natalia tighter yet.

A man stepped forward, one James recognized from his own time at Hydra but could not name. For how little he knew about the man in front of him, though, the man seemed to know enough about him.

"We knew you would return to us one day, Asset," he said, a smile pulling on his lips. At his wave, agents stepped forward to pull Natalia from his arms, but James lashed out immediately and instinctively.

"Do not touch her," he snarled, curling away from them.

"If we are to help her, Mr. Barnes," the man said, "then we must take her to the medical wing."

The use of his name did not go unnoticed by him, but James was desperate and willing to overlook such an obvious attempt to win his trust. He was desperate, yes, but not without a sound mind.

"I will take her," James argued fiercely, "and only once I know she is safe will I do what you want."

"Of course," the man hummed. He stepped back. "I'll lead you there."

James got to his feet with Natalia held protectively in his arms even as she groaned. Soundlessly, James followed the man back into the base and the score of agents fell in line behind him. It was with a pain in his chest and panic in his blood that he walked deeper into the base, begging any deity he could think of that Natalia would be alright.

* * * * *

When Natalia awoke, it was with an ache in her chest and the sound of a heartbeat monitor ringing in her ears.

She blinked, trying desperately to place where she was, and immediately knew it wasn't SHIELD. When she tried to sit up, both the pain in her ribs and the straps around her wrists prevented the movement. A single glance down told her all she needed to know. A tentacled skull stared up at her, embroidered in silver on the straps covering her wrists and ankles.

"James," she gasped, her eyes darting toward the door.

His words echoed through her mind, a promise she knew that he never would have made had her life not been at risk. What a stupid, stupid man, she thought with a pang of sadness. They'd escaped―fought tooth and nail to align themselves with SHIELD and five years later, they'd been shoved right back into their old cage.

With fear curling around her lungs, she gave the straps around her wrists another tug. In her current condition, it was a useless endeavor. She wouldn't be escaping anytime soon because every tug pulled at the wound on her chest and breathing hurt, but she could tell enough about the straps to know they wouldn't stand a chance once she did get her strength back.

For a moment, she wondered if the Red Room had ever shared her full file with Hydra; if they knew about the serum that ran through her blood. Then she thought back to the many years of cryo, going back and forth between living and freezing, and figured that they probably did. So why such weak restraints?

She wasn't able to think of an answer before the door was opened and an agent stepped through, a white medical robe pulled over a tactical vest that she would recognize from anywhere. She'd been Hydra's captive slave for decades, after all. It would take more than five years for her to forget the gear their agents wore when around her and James.

"The Black Widow," the agent hummed, glancing over her before moving to the device monitoring her vitals. "They said you would return and here you are, at the mercy of Hydra yet again."

"Where is James?" Natalia demanded. Very intentionally, she avoided tugging at her restraints.

The agent gave her a long look as if weighing his answer before eventually saying, "Contained."

The curse fell from her lips before the agent could smirk, an expression that instantly fell at her harsh Russian.

"Bring him to me," she ordered.

"You forget―" The agent adjusted something in her IV line, drawing Natalia's attention to it sharply― "you are no longer with the Americans. It is us who orders you."

Forgetting about the pain in her chest, Natalia nearly attempted to tear through her restraints and rip into the agent's neck. As she shifted, however, her limbs grew heavy and her eyelids drooped until the agent hovered above her with a smile.

"You will sleep now, Romanova," he said, tilting his head toward the IV bag, "and when you wake, you'll fall into line too."

* * * * *

When Natalia awoke for the second time, it was to the sound of a familiar grunt and a shouted curse in English. Blinking quickly, she searched the room for James only to see him being firmly held down, three agents piled on top of him as another loomed overhead. While three agents would suffice in keeping him down, she could see the fury etched across his face and held in his shoulders. Should he so choose, they wouldn't be enough to stop him.

As the agent had told her earlier, though, they were no longer with the Americans. James would not be half as imprudent as he had become at SHIELD and orders would be heeded with more caution.

Even still, she couldn't stop herself from calling out to him. "James."

His eyes darted up to hers and it was in good judgment that the agents holding him down quickly moved away. He was on his feet a moment later, though Natalia did not miss the look that passed from the first agent to the three that had held James down.

Ever so gently, James's fingers combed through her hair, his hand stopping to rest on her cheek as he stared down at her with a soft smile.

"Hello, love," he murmured.

Behind him, a sharp, "You will speak English, Asset," made James's face cloud over but she could see him file away the command for later. These agents did not speak Russian and that, Natalia knew, was a weakness that she and James could (and would) quickly exploit. For now, however, she would heed it.

"You shouldn't have done this." Her fingers closed around his wrist by her head. "It wasn't worth it, Yasha."

"It was to me," he replied just as softly. Brushing back her hair, he changed the subject. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she breathed in Russian, quickly following it up with, "Sore," in English.

"You'll be alright?" he asked. His eyes dropped to her restraints and she gave a small nod.

"Give me a few weeks," she answered, "and I will be as good as before."

She only needed days and he knew that, but as far as Natalia could tell, this Hydra base did not have access to her files and would not know that. If they did, she would have been further restrained; she would have been given a stronger sedative; and they would have known better than to only bring in four agents.

James was pulled back sharply, arms tugged behind his back. He let them remove him from her side, but his eyes did not stray from hers.

"Just as we agreed, Asset," the first man said, stepping between them. "She is safe. You will comply."

It was with great effort that James did not flinch at the word and with even greater effort that Natalia did not argue on his behalf. Watching from her bed in silence, her eyes followed James and the agents until they were out of sight and the door clicked shut behind them. Unlocked.

* * * * *

He couldn't stop shaking. From cold, from anger, from everything. Since the moment he'd been taken to see Natalia, poorly bandaged and hooked up to an IV line that he was certain contained a sedative rather than nutrients, he hadn't stopped shaking.

They debriefed him, giving him his first mission in years, and James's hands shook when he nodded. They placed an electric collar around his neck for transport, an unnecessary precaution seeing as Natalia was still in their grasp, and his fist clenched to stop his hands from continuing to shake. They loaded him up on a plane and when it shook during takeoff, James hardly noticed the difference in his own shaking.

It wasn't until he disembarked and they echoed the words that he began to feel a spark of hope.

They were wrong; the words were incorrect. Misordered and spoken poorly, they didn't trigger his programming like he had feared they would when they had first started.

These agents weren't contacting their previous handlers, James realized. They were merely going off of stories they'd heard.

It was a mistake made from arrogance and one that would cost them dearly. So long as the agents didn't correct their mistake before Natalia was healed, they wouldn't have such a hard time escaping after all. Until then, however, he would wear the mask of the Winter Soldier and complete the work they ordered him to do. He could only hope it wouldn't cost them their contract with SHIELD.

* * * * *

When Natalia awoke for the third time, it was so unexpected that she couldn't not take advantage of it. The IV line had been removed and an agent was fiddling with something on a countertop, his back to her in what would be a fatal error. He hadn't even finished refilling the IV bag when she snapped his neck, restraints torn and still attached to her bed.

Standing straight hurt and her wound had been stitched and bandaged poorly, but she could rip through restraints again and her head didn't pound. It was more than she could say the last two times she had awoken.

Slipping into the hallway, Natalia warily glanced down either hallway. James had been pulled to the right, she remembered that much, but she had no idea where he had gone after that.

Whether it was fortunate timing or not, she didn't have a moment to decide. She had hardly stepped to the right when a door opened and James, flanked by three agents and led by the same one as before, appeared in front of her. His face was as blank as a stone and a long-forgotten fear gripped her chest when a single command left the leading agent's lips: "Soldier, kill her."

She'd known it was only a matter of time before they wiped James; before they used his words and turned him back into the obedient machine he had once been. She hadn't, however, allowed herself a minute to come up with a plan for when such an event inevitably occurred.

"James, no," she breathed, her eyes carefully tracking his every movement.

"You trust me, love," he said in Russian, though the words were growled and his hand moved for his knife. "Run."

She did. Despite the chill in his voice and the stoniness in his eyes, she did exactly what he said and sprinted in the opposite direction.

His boots pounded down the hall after her followed by a shout of "Bring her back dead, Asset!" that spurred her forward.

When she reached a dead end, forced to turn one way or the other, she wasn't left a moment to think before James shouted "Left!" and she moved on instinct.

Diving to the left, she continued down the hall, half worried that the Winter Soldier was leading her into a trap but too panicked and in pain to care.

Several turns and many stairs later, she was panting hard enough to tear the stitches in her abdomen and James was catching up to her. When she finally felt her stitches give and blood began to soak her suit yet again, she stopped. Of all the enemies she'd faced over time, the Winter Soldier was one that she was willing to die at the hands of, even if the sight of James being her end would hurt so much more.

As she stopped running, slowing down until she was all but curled over in pain as her side protested her desperate sprinting, she wrapped one arm around her side. Taking a shaky breath, she moved to face James but had hardly started to turn when the Soldier went crashing into her, his arm circling her waist.

"James―"

"Don't stop." He hoisted her arm over his shoulder and pressed a gun into her other hand, murmuring a gentle, "They won't catch on soon enough."

The soft look that met her when she blinked up at him almost brought tears to her eyes, but James was insistent: They couldn't stop until they were long clear of the base, and with her stitches torn, they were moving much slower than usual.

"How did you―"

"I'll tell you later." He sealed the promise with a rushed kiss to her temple. "We need to get out first."

She nodded, leveling the gun in her hand as he carried them both out of the base, kicking down doors without wobbling even as she leaned heavily into him. As they made it outside, he hoisted her onto his back, giving a simple "Shoot," and then sprinted across the open space.

Natalia did. She raised the handgun and shot every agent that followed them, a single bullet through the head to stop their chase. When they reached the fence, James didn't even warn her before pushing her up and over. He followed soon after her and although every step hurt, she ran alongside of him and disappeared into the bare woods nearby.

* * * * *

Stumbling into the city, Natalia was all too aware of her bloodied tac suit and James's glittering metal arm. Dusk had fallen and many residents were returning home, too exhausted from the work day to take much notice of either of them, but Natalia could still feel the edge of paranoia as they slipped into a motel for the night.

Neither of them had a phone, but both knew Fury's personal number despite his insistence they didn't need to. After James managed to con a cell phone from the front desk worker and Natalia had snagged a first aid kit, they returned to their dingy room and set up camp in the bathroom, locking both the bedroom and bathroom doors behind them. A handgun sat by Natalia's thigh, resting on the sink countertop as James diligently stitched up her side and she dialed Fury's number.

As the call went through, a soft click was the only sign that he'd picked up.

"We need an extraction," Natalia told him, biting her lip as James tugged on a stitch. He murmured a soft apology and in her ear, Fury's voice finally came through.

"Where the hell have you two been?" he demanded. Although muffled, she heard him shout for someone to have a jet prepped and sent before he finished his call. "It's been days since you went dark."

"Remember that blind eye you promised us?" Natalia asked. "You might need to take that back."

"Talk to me, Romanov." The order was clear, but his voice had gone just a little softer. "And put Barnes on."

She did, setting the phone on the countertop beside the handgun.

"He's here, sir," she said. Impulsively, she reached forward, scratching her fingers through his hair, and he smiled softly up at her. "Here and perfectly unscathed," she breathed.

"What kind of medical prep am I looking at for you?" was Fury's following question, making her grin at just how well he'd learned to read them. "And what am I covering up?"

Between the two of them, they told him. Cutting in when the other paused, they filled in the gaps that SHIELD had since their comm-line had gone dead. By the time they finished―an abridged version, but with everything Fury needed to know―James had bandaged her side and she had a clearer idea of just how foggy James's mind was.

"Extraction will be there in four hours," Fury informed them afterward. "Medical kit will be on board and I'll have the medbay waiting for you at HQ." After a pause, he added, "Both of you."

"Yes, sir," they echoed.

There was no goodbye before the line disconnected, but there was a promise to contact them again when the extraction jet was ready for them followed by "Stay low until then," that was filled with more concern than usual. Despite their previous promise to return the desk worker's phone, they did not.

* * * * *

Returning to SHIELD HQ meant filing a mission report and visiting the medical wing.

With James at her side, they first went to the medbay so that her wound could be checked by a real doctor. After so many years of experience cleaning up each other, though, James's stitches were nothing but perfect and the doctor could find no fault in his treatment of the wound. Once dismissed, they marched up to Fury's office in silence.

"Agents." He gestured to the two seats opposite his desk. "Intel has it that the Winter Soldier was seen operating under Hydra for the first time in years."

Beside her, James's fists clenched under the table and she shifted to cross her ankle over his in comfort. He'd told her about that, of course, and they'd relayed the information to Fury, but having intel hear and report it was much more worrisome.

"They were happy to learn it was for a deep cover mission," Fury continued, "even if his target has yet to be seen again."

"The body is in the Danube," James said monotonously. "North of Budapest."

Fury nodded once. "I'm putting you both on leave."

Natalia didn't have it in her to protest. Between the ache in her ribs and the hollowness in her chest, a few days off felt like a wise call.

"I've assigned Barton to take care of matters," Fury informed them evenly. "When it's handled, he'll let you know. Until then, go home." He gave James a knowing look. "Talk it out."

"Sir―"

"When you're ready, you'll be welcomed back," Fury interrupted. "Budapest will be buried and a Strike team will handle what remains of the base."

They signed the debrief reports, pre-written by Fury with Barton's input added as needed and at Fury's following dismissal, they made their way out of headquarters and into the city. On paper, they lived at headquarters and their probation prevented anything else. Under the table, Fury was aware of a single apartment in a crowded Brooklyn neighborhood that, after rough missions, was occupied for a day or two before they returned to their rooms at SHIELD.

"James?" Natalia watched as he dropped his weapons bag on the floor and moved soundlessly into the bathroom. The door shut firmly behind him.

"I need a minute."

She nodded to herself. Turning to their room, she reached for his duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder with only a grimace.

Their weapons she stuffed in the closet―out of sight, out of mind. Hand over her ribs, she moved slowly over to the dresser where they each kept a few changes of clothes. Reaching for one of James's t-shirts, she pulled it over her head without tearing her stitches and dropped onto their bed.

With no adrenaline coursing through her, she could feel every minor ache and bruise that crisscrossed her body. From the sharpness under her ribs to a bruise on her shoulder, it was everything she could do to lie still and breathe. She had just closed her eyes when James stepped into the room, his footsteps as quiet and familiar as ever.

He paused at the foot of the bed, watching her long enough that she opened her eyes to blink at him.

"Come," she murmured, patting the space beside her.

He did so wordlessly, pulling off his boots and clothes until he was left in naught but his boxers.

"Can I―" He hesitated, propped up on his side as one arm tentatively hovered over her.

In response, Natalia reached for his arm and pulled it over her chest. He gently dropped down beside her, not on top of her, and curled his arm over her as tight as he dared. If it agitated her wound just a little bit, she said nothing.

They'd talked on the flight home, but she knew from the fog in his eyes that it hadn't been enough to clear his head. Even if his words hadn't worked, even though this Hydra base hadn't bothered to contact their previous handlers for better control, he would be stuck in his head for a while now. Their past had the tendency to do that to him―to both of them―and while it hurt Natalia to know that he was blaming himself, that he was running through a million what-ifs in his head, she would not force him to talk just yet.

"I'll be here," she said softly. Her own hand curled over his shoulder to brush through his hair. "Whenever you're ready to talk, I'll be here."

"I know," he breathed in response. He pressed a kiss to her jawline. "I'll let you know when."

They'd talk about it sometime, she knew as much was true, but right now what they both needed was rest; a moment to recover and regroup their thoughts before approaching the topic in conversation.

And so they lay there in silence, save for the sounds of Brooklyn that passed below them, and eventually, Natalia fell asleep to the familiar sound of his breathing and the welcome, soothing warmth of his arm around her.