my-private-lil-corner:

Natasha is the one to pick up his- her gun.

A raccoon, as ridiculous as it may sound, tells her about his swift encounter with Bucky and her gun.

“It’s not for sale.“, he had said, with a tone of voice that had left the raccoon knowing that the fine weapon was definetly off the table (unlike the arm).

She does not clean it throughout the years, not daring to wipe away his fingerprints, the more personal reminder of his former existence.

She does not use the remaining bullets. Those would have been his shots to take.

She stores the weapon, his last imprint in the world of the living, back where it belongs: in a locker with her name on it.