hiraeth
(n.)
a homesickness for a home you can never return to, or that never was

•••

"i'm a ghost of whoever it is i used to be."

•••

Everything hurt. Her muscles ached and her bones creaked and moaned. Her legs. Her arms. Her stomach. And her head. Especially her head. She was so nauseous.

Natalia's hand flew to her head to maybe relieve some of the pain. She immediately remembered why she was here. Maybe there were was still time to fix this. She had to go see te damage. Maybe James was still here. She sat up in a flash and immediately regret it.

She moaned in pain as the ringing in her ears resumed and headache multiplyed. Sharp tasting acidic vomit shot up her throat and out of her mouth onto the ground to the right of her.

She groaned in pain and laid back onto her back. It was a bad concussion. No big deal. She just had to take it slow. She stood up slowly, holding her head and taking deep breaths.

It even hurt to moved her eyes. But she ignored the pain, turning her head to look down the road. Past the wreckage of the Starks' car, James's motorcycle cycle sped off into the darknesses. She failed. And it felt horrible. He was gone with the serum. Howard and Maria were dead.

But why wasn't she?

She disappeared back into the forest against her throbbing head and covered up her vomit to make sure that if anyone searched, they wouldn't know there was a third party involved.

She checked all her weapons holster to account for everything, but as her fingers brushed over the used, beaten, black leather holster, instead of finding cool metal, there was nothing. Her hip handgun was gone. It was the one she drew on James. But she knew she put it back. She always put it back.

She glanced around the forest floor to see her favorite weapon propped atop of another that was identical to hers. Well, almost identical. It was a lot newer and less used then hers. The cartridge was also removed. It was laid neatly next to the politely stacked weapons. The eight brass bullets that occupied that magazine lay in a straight line next to it.

She stared at it in though for a moment, until it all came to her. She wasn't dead because he had remembered. James came back. He came back to tell her something. But his mission is time sensitive. He couldn't wait. And that was his gun. He put it next to hers to show her that he remembered!

Natalia smiled as she sank to her knees before the art before her. He took the cartridge and bullets out to show her that he could have killed her, but didn't. It was a call for help. James was still there. All he needed was to be saved.

If he can save her, that she was positive that she could save him. She reassembled his gun and took it with her, along with hers, straddling her motorcycle as quickly as possible, and chased after him, determined to get him and that serum back.

She knew that her quickened healing abilities would clear up her head injury in an hour or so. It had already cleared up a bit.

She drove down the road just a bit, slowing down by the wreckage. Everything was just the way she thought it would be. A staged accident. She saw a rigid piece of glass of glass sticking out of a puncture in a back tire. That was how he wrecked it. Used his dagger and planted the glass to hide the murder. The back tire must have lost control and swerved into the tree.

The front bumper and hood of the car was crumpled up like tinfoil and black smoke seeped from the cracks. The windshield and mirrors were busted and the airbags deflated. Inside the car sat the dead bodies of Howard and Maria Stark.

Natalia shook her head as she sped away from the accident. She hoped they had died on impact. But he remembered. James remembered.

And if she was going to find James, she absolutely had to do it before he left America. As soon as he got on a plane whether it be private, self-manned, or commercial, he—and the serum—would be out of her reach forever.

Luckily, she had a good teacher. And she was lucky to know the ways of a good man. As she went down the dim- lit dirt road, she could easily see which tire tracks were the most recent. And those were the ones she followed for a half hour until it came to a crossroads.

One to the city and one father into the country. If he had a private, or self manned aircraft, he would have choses the direction that took him to the country. The tracks he left turned right—to the country. Natalia knew well enough about his tactics to know that he actually went right,  to the city.

He was flying commercial. She turned to go back to DC airport. She grimaced. She'd have to follow him to wherever he is going. She could make a scene there. And certainly not an airplane.

She had to speed as quickly as the machine would allow. She was good at dodging the authorities, so she expected to get there in time. When she arrived at the DC airport, she noticed that her concussion had healed nearly all the way and she was just in time for the only departure for Moscow that week. Of course it was the plane that James would be boarding to travel back to his hellhole prison.

She bought her ticket and hurried onto the plane, wearing a hoodie and jeans with her hair in a ponytail. Hopefully she will be unrecognizable to James. But she had to keep reminding herself that there was a change. He left his gun there for a reason. He left it empty for a reason.

When she boarded the plane and took her seat, she sunk down in the seat as she scanned every corner of the passenger box for the returning assassin.

There was a steady beep in the air around her and the stewardesses walked up and down the aisle, arguing with stubborn passengers. The passengers chattered and rummaged through their bags as frugal women tried their best to stuff their bulging "carry on" bag into the overhead containers. Babies cries and children squealed with excitement.

Old men leaving on business sent out dirty looks as they laid their briefcases on their laps and put earplugs in. And much to Natalia's relief, James was one of them.

He was sitting in the seat in the far left corner at the front of the box wearing a work suit and ear plugs. The briefcase with what Natalia figured was the Super Soldier Serum sat on his lap, just like al the other men's paper-filled briefcases. It was the perfect blend. He was a perfect spy, just as she was.

He sat on the left side by the window sat that no one could accidentally touch his metal arm. He took the persona of an busy, annoyed business man so that no one would bother him or get him to speak. He sat in the very front row the the furtherest side so that the stewardesses wouldn't be inclined to speak to him.

Natalia smirk knowingly to herself. Either of them could take the entire plane right now and no one would ever know what happened to it or the people inside. But that was not why she was here today. She was here to save James from himself and to save the world from the possibility of Hydra having more Winter Soldiers.

She had to hide herself well, knowing that one glance around the box would give her away. She looked over to the seat a couple rows behind him that would for sure keep her out of his peripheral vision to see a middle aged woman who was ordering around three children in the row in front of Natalia. It was perfect.

She stood up, taking her carry on bag that had her suit in it and walked over to the woman.

"Ma'am, are those your children?" asked Natalia.

The woman's face went red and her jaw dropped. "Oh... yes ma'am. I-I am so sorry if they are misbehaving. It's hard to control them from over here."

Natalia held her hand up and smiled invitingly, being sure to position her face in and angle that was facing away from the Winter Soldier. "No ma'am. That's not what I meant. It's just that, I noticed that you were so far away from your kids and I thought you might want to be nearer to them. I thought that maybe you could switch with me. I sit right behind then on that empty seat," Natalia revealed, pointing towards her seat.

The woman frowned. "I was also a bit glad to be away for a bit. If you had kids, you'd understand."

Natalia inwardly frowned. But she could use that information too. "That's the thing. I just found out I'm expecting," she lied. "I'm taking a trip to Moscow to meet my husband and our families. We're taking one last trip before a child takes up all our time."

"Oh," the woman said, shaking her head. "I see. That is a good idea and I hate that I didn't think of that," she laughed.

Natalia smiled and laughed. "Yes ma'am. It was a mother who suggested it to me. And, the thing is," she said with an apprehensive tone, "This is probably the last time I get to come home to Russia. And I really want to see her from above. And my seat has no widow," she finished with a frown.

The mother looked upon Natalia sadly and looked out the window for a bit. "Alright. I hope your pregnancy goes over smoothly," she said standing up and taking her carry on from the top carriage.

Natalia smiled sweetly. "Thank you so much!"

The mother smiled back. "No problem."

Natalia took her seat and trained her eye on James. She figured he'd take a nap on the way, but every time she'd see him nearly nod off, he'd wake himself up again. It wasn't paranoia. He was awake when everyone else slept. When the people slept, he didn't seem as laid back as usual. He sat up straight, he back pressed into the chair. Always looking around the room

Sometimes there were spells that he would fall asleep for 5 minuets or so, then wake up breathing hard, shaking, sweating, and eyes searching frantically. She knew that he knew that no one could see him like that. The on-board doctor would be all over him. She watched in despair as he did his best to take deep, shaky breaths and hugging his arms close to his chest, nearly squeezing his ribs to a break.

He'd hold his head like he was trying to get something out. Or maybe to silence something. It made Natalia physically sick to her stomach. She wished with all her heart to go hold him. To ask him what was wrong and make it right.

But she couldn't. The saying was "sometimes you have to run before you can walk". But that wasn't the case here, Natalia assured herself as she pushed down all her longings for James. If she was even going to come close to success, she was going to have to take very careful steps.

As the daylight came back to them the plane flew over the border of Russia. Ready to land. The winter snow was already so deep and the top of houses and buildings had a thick layer of fluffy snow. The beauty of the colorful establishments never left Natalia's mind for the last few years. It was even more beautiful that she remembered.

She could already feel the frost on her nose and the snow between her toes. She could already feel the coldness of the air and the blizzard wind sweeping through her hair. Here eyes immediately traveled the the Bolshoi. The beautifully built home of ballet.

No matter how many horrible memories she had gained here, this was still her home. She looked over to James who looked more uncomfortable than ever as he looked out the window. He was her home too. He was what made this her home. And he was never even supposed to be here. Her hiraeth.

Sadness washed over her entire body over and back again. Home is something she can never truly have. Russia ruined her. James is taken from her time and time again. But she was going to get him back. No matter what happens, she knows she'll have him back.

Someday.

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