Four weeks on the run, seventeen attempts on his life, and forty-two motels.

Steve was sick of it.

After all he'd done to practically save the world from a terrorist organization, one would think that the universe would help a guy out. Sadly, the universe doesn't work that way.

Defeating HYDRA had painted a big fat target on his chest while also opening his mind to so many unanswered questions. Bucky was alive, yet dead. Director Fury was dead, yet alive.

Steve's mind could barely comprehend it all.

He had just gotten used to the world he was living in, then it all came crashing down.

If Steve was honest with himself, he'd want nothing more than to disappear into the shadows and live a normal life. But that wasn't possible, and he had to keep moving on with the sorry excuse of a life he had left.

It wasn't until the eighteenth attempt on his life when he finally decided to throw in the towel.

He and Sam were staying at a small motel somewhere outside of St. Louis when they received another package from their friendly neighborhood HYDRA agents.

After it was successfully throw into the pool before detonation, Steve and Sam packed up and hit the road again, paying the Motel owner for the damages.

It was during that car ride to who knows where when Sam finally brought up the topic of going into hiding.

"Hey Cap?"

"Hmm?"

"Why you still doing this?"

"Still doing what?" Steve asked.

"Being on the run," Sam replied.

Steve sighed, "We'll I can't exactly stop."

"Sure you can."

"Really? How so?"

"Go into hiding, ya know. Like Witness Protection Program or something."

Steve scoffed, "Yeah right. Good luck keeping that under wraps. Some poor intern would probably spill or something."

"Valid point," Sam replied.

The car ride continued on in silence before Sam spoke again.

"But still, man. This has got to be taking a toll on you."

Steve nodded in response.

"Besides, there has got to be a place where you can hide out for a while."

"Not anywhere in the States. HYDRA is everywhere," Steve commented.

"Really? Even in remote places?" Sam questioned.

Steve nodded.

"So there's a Hydra base in Alaska?"

Steve faltered in his response, having to think about it.

"I… I don't know."

Sam grinned in triumph.

"Well let me call up one of my Paratrooper buddies who lives out there. She now works for the Coast Guard as a helicopter pilot and she may know something."

Steve shrugged, "Knock yourself out."

Two days later in the outskirts of Omaha, Natasha found herself in a bit of a situation.

She was moonlighting at a bar for some extra cash when one of the patrons recognized her, her short bottle blonde locks not phasing him at all. Word got around the bar and eventually she got kicked out as people spat and cursed at her. Venomous glares stabbed her back as she left, and four or so large men followed her out into the alleyway.

In the alleyway, Natasha turned towards the brutes that had followed her out.

"Thank you boys for the escort, but I can take it from here," she remarked, fiddling with her bag.

"You're crazy if you think you can get away with all you did," Brute Number 1 growled as the other three nodded their heads.

"Look boys, I really don't wanna fight. Can't we just carry on and forget about this little encounter?"

"Don't think so sweetheart," Brute Number 2 snarled.

Natasha huffed, "Well let's at least even the playing field just a bit."

The brutes chuckled and shook their heads.

"No can do sweetie," Brute Number 1 remarked.

"Oh no. I wasn't talking about you," Natasha replied, gently stepping out of her heels.

"There. Now it's even."

The men snarled like savages at her, cracking their knuckles viciously as to show their potential power. Any other petite woman of her stature would've been terrified, but Natasha was not any other woman. She huffed and placed her bag next to her heels before turning to face the men, secretly enjoying the rush it gave her.

Her tauntings were not taken lightly by the men, and in their bull-headedness, they had seemingly forgotten just how skilled their opponent could be. But even in her skill, Natasha could easily make rookie mistakes.

The fight started with Brute 1 and 2 coming after her, their clumsy arms attempting to catch her small, lithe body. Natasha easily dodged them, fitting in a few quick jabs as she went along. Her fatal error however was not in her technique, but her attire. The loose top she wore was easily caught by one of the men, along with the long necklace that she wore. The necklace got caught against the middle of her throat as Brute Number 1 yanked it back, causing her to not be able to breathe. Her arms raised to attempt to free herself from her captor as she scratched at the chain that cut off her air. Brute Number 2 took the chance to grab onto her arms and pin her against the wall. Brute Number 3 took then chance to get in a few hard punches to Natasha's stomach before she managed to free herself. Brute Number 2 got a lucky hit to Natasha's face, drawing blood before she broke his hand.

Somehow, and Natasha will always blame it on them being lucky, the brutes managed to knock Natasha down. She spit out blood and touched her split lip lightly before she turned to try and get up. Then she heard the gun cock.

Natasha looked up to see Brute Number 3 pointing her own gun at her. He must've gone through her purse when she was distracted. The cocky way he pointed it at her infuriated her, but also saddened her. This man was so caught up in all the bad she had done that he wouldn't think twice about killing her. Did he even remember all she had done to save the world countless times? She guessed that all the red in her ledger had finally caught up to her, and somehow she was okay with it. In all honesty, she was so tired. So, so tired of running and lying and not being true to herself. Hell, who even is the real Natasha Romanoff? She's just a sick joke, not even a person at all.

No, Natasha was not afraid of death. In fact, she found it to be liberating. Only in death can one find their real self.

You cannot lie in death.

Natasha found it fitting that she be killed by her own weapon. How many lives had she taken with that one pistol? How many more had she taken with just her bare hands? It sickened her.

"Go ahead," she spat. "Kill me."

Brute Number 3 smiled wickedly and adjusted his aim.

"Gladly," he replied, squeezing the trigger.

Then she heard a sound she never thought she'd hear again.

The sweet sound of Steve's shield slicing through the air filled her senses as the gun fired off. The bullet ricocheted off the well placed shield, hitting Brute Number 3 in the leg. In minutes, all the men were apprehended and lying unconscious on the concrete of the alleyway.

Slowly, Natasha picked herself up off the ground, wiping at her bloodied lip and cataloging her injuries. Her ribs were bruised and she'd have a nasty black eye in the morning. The cut on her brow wasn't too deep, but her lip stung like nothing else. She had scrapes all across her arms due being tossed around and she sort of felt like she'd been hit with a truck.

Nevertheless, Natasha carried on, picking up her gun and collecting her purse and heels as she made her way out of the alleyway until a voice stopped her.

"I believe a 'thank you' is in order," Steve gruffly commented.

"I had it covered," Natasha spat, alarmed at her vicious tone.

"Yeah, right," Steve countered, picking up his discarded shield.

Natasha turned quickly to face him, her posture angry.

"I had it covered, then you screwed it up by coming in and playing hero!" Natasha yelled, glaring at him. "Besides, what the hell are you even doing in Omaha?"

"I was looking for you," Steve retorted.

"After all this time, now you look for me!?"

"Well, yeah."

"What the actual hell Steve! I go months without word from you after we end up taking down the people we used to be on payroll for, then you just suddenly show up!? You could've at least called first!"

"Well you didn't exactly leave me a number to anything to contact you by! You up and left without a trace after we met in the graveyard!"

"You could have looked for one or found a way!"

"I thought you were heading to Europe with Fury!"

"I am not Fury's lapdog!" Natasha spat.

"Well you could've fooled me!"

Natasha fumed and turned away from Steve.

"You didn't have to help me," she muttered.

"That guy was going to kill you!"

"What if I wanted him to?!" Natasha yelled, tear prickling the back of her eyes.

Steve quieted and looked at her confused.

"Let's be real, he'd have done the world a favor," she sniffed, allowing the tears to fall. It had been so long since she cried, and honestly she deserved to after all she'd been through.

"He'd have done me a favor," she whispered softly to herself.

Then she felt strong, warm arms wrap around her. A gentle hand came to rest at the base of her head as Steve cradled it, pulling Natasha close.

And Natasha cried.

She sobbed into the Steve's shirt, crying out everything she had pent up. Betrayal, pain, loneliness, and fear, all of it came rushing out.

Steve held her while she cried. He didn't question or say anything to make her feel better. For that, she was thankful. If he had said anything about it being okay, she'd know it was a lie. Because it wasn't okay.

Natasha was in pain.

Steve was really heaven sent. He didn't question her and just let her lean on him as they walked back to her apartment.

Inside, Steve helped her out of her clothes and into a warm bath where he washed her himself. He no longer blushed when he saw her nude, having gotten used to it after having to constantly patch her up after missions.

Natasha allowed herself to relax as Steve methodically washed lightly over her cuts with a wash cloth. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she probably looked like a mess, but Steve treated her like the most precious porcelain doll.

After rinsing her off and washing her hair, Steve wrapped her in a towel before he started treating her wounds. It was then when Natasha spoke.

"I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsely.

Steve shook his head, gently applying antibiotics to the cut on her forehead.

"It's fine, Nat."

Natasha winced as Steve dabbed the cut with a cotton ball.

"Sorry", Steve muttered.

After a while, Natasha grabbed his wrist gently, causing him to stop and look at her.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Steve shook his head, before Natasha stilled him again with a slight squeeze to his wrist.

"I missed you," she admitted. "More than I should've."

Steve just smiled and pulled her into his arms, burying his head into her wet hair. Natasha's arms came to rest over her shoulders as she clutched his head to her, carding her fingers through his hair.

God he'd missed her. He missed her wit and smile. Most of all, he missed their partnership. She of all people understood him and went out of her way to help him. And like him, she was tired. Tired of the running and fighting that came in their everyday lives.

She hadn't said anything to him about it, but he knew. And if anyone needed another shot at life, it was her.

After they parted, Steve waited in the living room for Natasha to change. She came out a few minutes later to find him asleep on her couch. In the poor lighting, she could make up the bags under his eyes and she could tell that he was just as tired as she was.

With a gentle prodding, Natasha manages to wake him, feeling almost guilty for having to do so.

Steve orients himself with his surrounding upon waking and seems relieved when he realizes he's with her. And slowly they being to catch up.

After a good hour of plain talking, Steve finally brings up why he came to see her.

"Sam's done some digging," he starts.

"Okay, and?"

"Well, he thinks it's a good idea for me to disappear for a while."

"Where? HYDRA is everywhere."

"Not in Alaska."

"What?" Natasha asks.

"Sam did some digging and through his old paratrooper connections, he's figured out that all the SHIELD bases in Alaska were disbanded four years ago. Alaska is military run and when we revealed Hydra, the military found and apprehended all the remaining agents, moving them to the states."

"Huh."

"Yeah. So it's Hydra free, for the most part."

"Okay, so?" Natasha prompted.

"Sam knows an old paratrooper buddy of his who works for the Coast Guard in Alaska. Somehow he's managed to convince her to help us."

Natasha looks at Steve, a bit shocked.

"So you're saying that there is an opportunity to disappear and live out normal lives in Alaska?"

Steve nods.

"I'm set to leave tomorrow morning and there is room for one more. All you have to do is say yes."

"Yes."