Her fingertips ran up his arm, and he was hard-pressed to suppress the shiver rippling its way up his spine at the touch, unaccustomed to the close contact. And he considered that promise, and only had to chew it over for a moment before saying, "Deal."

Maybe others in their group would've tried harder to talk her out of it. If Steve had been the first man back to the safehouse tonight, he might've had wiser words to say to rein them in: probably something about redemption, being a good person, choosing the higher road, saving the state of her soul. But the widow and the soldier had the same brutal bloody pasts, with similar Russian bogeymen at the heart of it, and so if anyone understood her position— it was James.

"If I'd had the chance to get at Karpov myself, I would've done it," he said flatly. "Turned out Zemo beat me to it. So... I know what unfinished business feels like, Nat. I'm not gonna be the one to stop you. If you think he deserves to die, then he deserves to die."

Sometimes being a hero meant doing the brutal thing, he thought. It was something he was still coming to terms with. But he trusted her.