Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers. I'm not Stan Lee... Sorry to disappoint you.
This is my first fic, so be gentle! If it's any good, let me know and I'll keep it going!
"Believe it or not, it's hard to find someone with shared life experiences…"
She could believe it.
In all the time she had spent bouncing between different intelligence agencies, and she definitely wasn't new to the business, Natasha had never been more impressed with an agencies record keeping than she had been with SHIELD. It was both comforting and terrifying for Natasha to hear that SHIELD knew more about her than she knew about herself. She ultimately found that there was solace to be found in ignorance. As a mentor once said: "Trust the system."
And the system had, thus far, been good to Natasha. She had been provided with steady pay, a company vehicle, enjoyable work, free housing, companionship. The list seemed unending. She would truly never be able to repay Barton.
Barton. He was the complicated player in her chess game. He was so predictable, and yet, for his predictability, it always felt like he was pushing her. There were many traits of his that she admired: his determination, his problem solving, his ability to anticipate her answers before she could even formulate them. She loved him, and she had no qualms admitting it. Her love for Barton wasn't the problem. The problem was that she loved Rodgers more.
She had always loved Rodgers. From the moment she laid eyes on him at Camp Lehigh. Every second she'd spent with him had been incredible. Even before the serum, he'd been different. She had been an officer of the British Armed Forces Special Air Service. She was a sort of handler to Steve before and then for a short time after the operation. It didn't take much for her to lose herself to his honest charms. He could be selling her war bonds or tying her to a sinking ship, she wouldn't fight him. They fell in love. She couldn't fight him. And yet, she had found the will to do so.
He had pursued her on the helicarrier. She couldn't blame him. From where he stood, it looked as though they had been making plans to go dancing just moments before she fell (albeit begrudgingly) into the arms of Clint Barton, archer extraordinaire. Once she had explained herself, he seemed to understand, thought he made it very plain that he was not thrilled about the situation. She could understand his frustration, but then again, she had her own frustrations to deal with. Her story had not hit the same pause as his.
After his death, she had felt the pressing need to withdraw from service. It reminded her too much of him. She then worked her way to infamy in the private sector, slowly but surely making a name for herself. After all, she had all the time in the world. And with Steve gone, she had no guiding moral compass.
After 5 years of private work, on a work trip to Moscow, she was offered a high paying, high-risk position with the Russian government. She took the job, knowing full well her chances of survival were slim. She had simply lost her will to live. In Russia, she was turned into a science experiment. Pushed to the brink of all of her senses, she was pain-stakingly molded into the perfect solder. The Black Widow.
She operated under the KGB for so long, she began to lose sight of who she had been. She allowed herself to forget, drifting into a life of autonomy. At least, until Clint. He had seen the girl inside of her that had once loved and been loved in return. He decided that that girl was worth saving. He gave her an out.
So she married him.
It wasn't immediate. They worked together, became friends, dated. They made sense.
And so as Natasha looked into the eyes of the first man she had ever loved, she was forced by circumstance to turn him down. She had to let him go.
And yet, Natasha knew that that wouldn't be the end for them. Natasha knew that in time, Barton would age and she would not. In time, he would pass on. She would mourn him. Grieve the loss of a lover and a friend. She would wait for his memory to fade at the edges, but then she would go to Steve. To her heart.
The only problem was that Clint wouldn't go on to age. Not long after the attack on New York, Clint began to notice a few strange occurrences: floating objects, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, the feel of electricity humming underneath his skin. He had been immediately quarantined. In two days time, he was lost.
Natasha had prepared herself for the inevitability of Clint's passing. She just always assumed it would be far into the future. She had hoped he would die an old man, safe in his bed, her hand still in his. Not young, panicked, and alone. It destroyed her to know that she was unable to protect him.
She locked herself away in her room at Stark tower, seeking out some form of control. On occasion, she would venture to the gym for combat training. Seeing how she completely tore apart the gym equipment, no one in the tower was brave enough to approach her. Until Steve.
"Need a sparing partner?" It was suicide, and he knew it. She had been tearing the punching bag a new one, and here he was, offering to take its place. Genius.
"I'm fine." She didn't even look at him. She just kept punching.
That's when he noticed it. She hadn't wrapped her fingers. Her hands were bruised and bloody, completely battered from her workout.
"Natasha stop!" It was a plea. Watching her hurt herself was breaking his heart.
She didn't stop. She didn't even slow down.
"Natasha!" He made a move towards her.
"This wasn't how it was supposed to happen." She ground out as she kept punching. "I was supposed to take care of him. Support him. Give him the life he deserved."
She stopped punching to look at him. Her eyes were dark with insomnia, her cheeks were pale from her lack of appetite, and he voice rang with the pain of self-loathing.
It took all of two seconds for Steve to scoop her up into his arms, trying his hardest to fit all of her pieces back together again.
"You are not a failure. You gave him everything by giving him all of yourself." In that moment he realized that this was not the first time she had lost a loved one. He imagined the other end of the radio as he had plummeted into the ice that day. He remembered the life story she had told him that day on the helicarrier, and as he looked down at the woman in his arms, he there and then decided that she was the strongest, most worthy human being he could ever hope to know. He was so in love with her.
She cried in his arms for a while, but then she thanked him and retreated again, and he let her. This time, in her solitude, she considered where she wanted to go with her life. She neither wanted nor felt suitable for residential life. It made sense for her to want to continue with SHIELD, but she knew it would be different without Clint's constant presence in her SHIELD apartment and then occasionally on her missions.
The more she thought about working with SHIELD, the more she gravitated towards the idea of working with Steve. She trusted him more than any other SHIELD operative, and he had already made it clear that he would be pursuing them for employment. They had worked together (and quite well). He was the obvious choice for a partner. Now just to convince him.
She barely registered that she was walking until she was standing in front of his apartment door. Hesitantly, she knocked. The door opened almost immediately.
"Yes?" Steve looked to have been sleeping. She honestly wasn't sure what time it was, but it seemed as though her alone time had eaten more time than she had originally thought.
"I want you to be my new missions partner with SHIELD."
His eyes went wide. "Ok… May I ask why?"
"I trust you. My trust is hard to come by."
He nodded slowly, leaning against the doorway and raising a hand to comb through his already messy hair. "Ok. I'll do it. But under one stipulation."
Natasha's stomach flipped. She had every intention of pursuing Steve, but she would need to properly mourn before should even take the first steps. "What's that?"
"You have to talk to me. We have to be able to communicate well. I won't push you for a relationship, though I will say that when you're ready, I'm here and I love you more than you could ever imagine. But for the time being, I just need to know how you are so that I can try my best to care for you. Deal?" he said, sticking out his hand for her to shake.
She was floored. He wasn't pushing her. He was caring for her. In the most selfless way she had ever seen.
She threw her arms around his neck, the tears already coming. His arms would around her waist as he let out a breath he couldn't remember holding. Before he could tell what was happening, her lips were on his, but only briefly.
"Thank you. Just give me time."
All he could do was nod and bury his face in her hair, thanking God that she was in his arms.
PLEASE leave a review! xoxo