A/N: Like others, I was broken after Endgame, and now I must turn to fanfiction that involves both Tony and Nat. This is one that I wrote a long time ago that I pulled out of the ol' Google Drive and decided to post. I've always loved Tony and Natasha's interactions with each other-I think that they're similar in a lot of ways that people forget, and they have a complicated history. As always, not mine. If it were then Tony and Nat would be happy and alive and

This takes place immediately after the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier- somehow Natasha has made it to New York to see an old friend.

Enjoy!


"Romanoff?"

She looks up. She's exhausted, so exhausted that she could just fall asleep right there and then. Her shoulder and left arm are non-functional and her hip is screaming from the bombing in New Jersey. She wants to sleep, really sleep, and also watch bad movies and eat crappy food. She wants Clint, desperately, but she, a) doesn't know that he's not Hydra, and b) can't risk going to the farmhouse in case she gets followed. It's also very far, and she can't… can't do that right now.

"Hi," she says, and she forces herself into a standing position, hiding (badly, she's nowhere near her usual standard) her pain like always. "I'm… I'm sorry… I had nowhere to go… I'll be gone in a few days, I just need somewhere safe… for now… your email said we could drop in anytime…"

"You look like shit, Natasha," Tony Stark says, and reaches forward, grips her shoulders. "I saw… what happened. When was the last time you slept?"

She shakes her head.

"That's not an answer." Tony looks around. He's supporting her, physically and emotionally in this moment. He almost laughs out loud at the irony. He'd never had expected this. "You injured?"

Natasha shakes her head again. "Fury… he had a medic… I'm okay. I just…"

Tony winces—no matter how engrossed he is in his work, he noticed when the headline Director of SHIELD Nick Fury Shot to Death— and nods carefully at his companion. She's fragile, like a scared cat. Damaged. She'll run if he makes any sudden movements, and if she does, she won't make it out alive. "I'm sorry about Fury," he admits—because he is, far more than he'd care to admit— and her head whips up.

"What?"

He waves a hand lamely at the room. "Fury… I heard he died…"

Realization dawns on her face. "Oh," she says, a little too quickly. "Yeah. Me too."

Something tells him that she's lying, but he doesn't pry. If she's obvious enough that he can tell, she's seriously off her game. "The Tower has the best security in the world," he promises. "The guest rooms are all entirely secure. It's safe. JARVIS runs the system, he has eyes in the sky and on the ground. Sleep, Romanoff. You can reacquaint yourself with the living tomorrow."

She nods, but he thinks that she only heard half of what he said. She reaches down to her feet to pick up a large black backpack, which she hoists over her shoulders. "Sleep," she repeats.

After she leaves, Tony looks around at the living room. There's a little bit of blood on the sofa where she was sitting. It's a shame, he thinks, that the Avengers' floors aren't ready yet—he could have gotten her input.

"JARVIS," Tony calls quietly. "Why didn't you tell me that she was here?"

"You didn't ask," comes the reply, "and Ms. Romanoff has had clearance since you began the Avengers' floor plans."

"Yeah, but…" Tony runs a hand through his hair. He hasn't slept in a while, either, but he's not dead on his feet like Natasha is. "Just pull up everything that has to do with Agent Romanoff, the Black Widow, Captain America, and SHIELD in the last few days.

A screen set into the wall (more like the screen that makes up the wall) flickers on and dozens of reports crowd the screen. Hundreds. Thousands, even.

"Sort by relevance."

JARVIS obeys and the onscreen entities all shuffle around. Finally, a single news report hits the top of the screen.

Tony points to it. "Open."

The headline reads, Everything We Know About the Fall Of SHIELD—So Far.

It outlines Project Insight, the unknown assassin known as the Winter Soldier, Nick Fury's death, the arrest of Agent Natasha Romanoff, Captain Steve Rogers, and an unknown person that was later identified as Sam Wilson. Finally, it talks about Steve Rogers' announcement to the rest of SHIELD, the Helicarriers' destruction, and then Natasha's data dump.

Tony spends hours reading through all of the articles, and then he switches to the SHIELD files. Nearly all of it's in code, but JARVIS cracks that instantly.

Also: despite the mountains of information that SHIELD has on Natasha, Steve, Bruce, Thor, and Tony himself, there's very little to do with a certain archer.

Odd.

"You're all up to date, sir." JARVIS says dryly.

"This all happened in… like… a weekend?"

"Yes, sir. And, if I may, I suspect that there's a lot more that has not been reported. I suggest you ask Ms. Romanoff about that when she was wakes up."

"Tell me when she does," Tony requests, but what he really wants to do is go back to his workshop and hit things with hammers and make something, do something productive. "Where's Rogers?"

The AI pauses. "I'm uncertain."

"Find out for me, please. Pepper?"

"Ms. Potts is still in L.A. She has just exited a meeting. L.A. time: 9:22 pm. Local time: 12:22 am." If an AI could be tired, or at least annoyed, that's JARVIS in this moment. "Her flight here lands tomorrow at 11:05 am."

"It's midnight?"

"Twenty-three after, sir. Good morning. It has been 22 hours since you last slept." JARVIS' voice hints at disapproval.

Tony ignores it. He's been awake for far longer. "I'm going to the workshop."

"Sir," JARVIS doesn't even hide his disapproval.

"Shut up."


Stark could be HYDRA.

The thought doesn't even occur to Natasha until she wakes up the next morning.

He designed the Helicarriers. That's what the file said, isn't it? And Nick. 'Stark, A, contributed generously to the design of the Helicarriers.'

But despite the obvious evidence, Natasha doesn't believe it.

"JARVIS?" she tries, her voice shaky.

The AI buzzes to life. "Good morning, Ms. Romanoff. The time is 10:46 am. The outside temperature is 20 degrees Celsius and cloudy with a chance of rain."

"How long was I sleeping?"

"Twelve hours and seven minutes."

Natasha blinks; that's more than she had been expecting. More than she's slept in the past week.

She stands up, resigning herself to the shower. After, she promises herself, she'll go back to the real world. The courts are calling for her testimony. She left Rogers with Wilson, but she still needs to check on him. Clint needs to be warned. She tried her best to remove any data on him before the dump—to protect Laura and the kids—but she's nowhere close to perfect. But the world won't end in the twenty minutes that it takes to shower. Hopefully.

When she finishes, she rifles in her backpack for clothes. She has a few outfits there, but she'll have to go back to her apartment soon. Once she finds leggings and a huge shirt that she stole from Clint, she pulls it on and a small phone tumbles out of the bag.

She taps in the first number slowly.

"Who is this?" His voice is serious and angry.

"Clint," she smiles. "It's Nat."

"Are you okay?" The anger disappears, replaces itself with concern. "God, Nat, I heard about all of it… on the news… and Fury, he's dead… Where are you? Are you safe?"

"I'm fine, I'm at Stark Tower."

A pause. "Why?"

"It seemed convenient." Natasha pauses. "You heard about the data dump?"

"I did. You did that?"

"Yeah. I took out as much about you as I could, but—"

"Don't worry; we're fine at home. Nat, SHIELD was Hydra?" His voice, even over the phone, shakes incredulously.

"I can't explain everything over the phone. Clint, I'll drop by eventually, but I can't promise when. Stay safe."

A longer pause. "You're right. Okay. Okay. We will. Yeah. You're right."

"Bye," she says softly.

"See you."

The line clicks.

On a different phone, she dials a different number.

"Sam."

"Romanoff, that you?"

"Yep. How is he?"

She can hear his shrug. "Still sleeping. Vitals are stable. The docs say any minute now. Where're you?"

"Stark Tower." She hears him breathe in sharply. "Old friend. I'm safe."

"Oh. Got an update from Fury or Maria?"

"Not yet. That's all. Bye."

"Bye."

Short conversation. No real stories are exchanged, just two- or three-word sentences, for the most part.

"Where's Tony?" Natasha directs her voice to the ghost in the walls.

JARVIS answers smoothly. "I believe he is in the kitchen."

"Where's that?" Normally, Natasha would already have a map of this place on her head, but last night she was far too exhausted.

In response, JARVIS turns on the ceiling lights along a certain path. Natasha follows.


She finds him on his laptop, half-empty mug of coffee next to him. There are dark circles under his eyes and she wonders when he last slept, as well. He's obviously no engrossed in his work that he seems not to notice her walk in.

"Breakfast?" she asks. He obviously hasn't eaten yet.

"What?" he looks up sharply. "Oh, yeah, thanks."

She starts the coffee maker, cracks a few eggs, throws them into an omelette because that's one of the few things that she knows how to make. In the fridge, she finds a few apples—which seem like breakfast food— and cuts them into slices. "Did you sleep?"

"Yes?"

She fixes him with a stare—not a deadly Black Widow one, but a friendlier one. "How long?"

"Four hours."

"Okay." She doesn't sleep, either, not normally, and four hours would be considered a good night for her. And although that's not healthy… she doesn't really care enough. She gives him his omelette and half of the apples, too.

"Natasha, what happened?" Tony closes the computer and she sits down in front of him.

She sighed. "Shit," she answered honestly, meeting his eyes. "A whole lot of shit. SHIELD… and Hydra… and Fury… and Steve… and the Winter Soldier."

"Yeah, who is that guy? For real, though."

"That's complicated." Natasha hesitated again, then sighed again, rubbing her forehead. "He's an assassin on another level. He shows up very rarely-once every couple of years, but there are mass casualties when he does. He's Hydra, and I think that he was with the Red Room at some point a long time ago. He's dangerous. And he's Steve's brainwashed friend." There, she said it. She hadn't admitted it to herself yet, but she had met the Winter Soldier before, as a trainer. She knew that much.

Tony pauses. She can see his brain working, deciding on what questions to ask, sorting them by priority, but all he says is, "oh."

"Yeah." It's confusing. Even for her, and she probably knows more vis-a-vis this situation than almost anyone else. Most likely. Or maybe not at all. Something like that. "Yeah."

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know. No one does." A thought occurs to her and she bites her tongue. Zola showed her and Steve those images, and heavily, heavily implied that the Winter Soldier had killed Tony's parents. She files that information away for later-it would help no one to tell him now. "Steve says that Barnes pulled him from the river after the Helicarriers crashed. After Maria took them down."

"As in Hill? She was there?"

"Yeah, she was invaluable. She basically planned the whole takedown. I called her the other day, she's compiling a list of people who she knows are SHIELD. And not Hydra."

"And not Hydra," Tony repeats. "Have you heard from Barton?"

She knows what he's asking, and she's grateful for the response she can give. "Yeah, I have. He's good. He's safe."

"That's good to know," he answers, and Natasha detects genuine relief.

"Have you heard from Banner?"

Tony's eyebrows knit together. "Why? He's not SHIELD, and he's sure as hell not Hydra."

"The people tailing him might have been. And his last known location is now online, so."

"I'll call him," Tony promises. "Thor?"

"Off-world, as far as SHIELD knew." Since the Avengers Initiative and the Battle of New York, other SHIELD agents had assumed that Natasha had clearance to all of the files relating to other team members. She didn't, not formally, but someone would have told her if another high-profile alien was hanging out on earth.

"So what happens now?"

Natasha shakes her head softly. She doesn't have an answer. "I don't know. We find out who's on whose side. We try to stomp out whatever's left of Hydra."

"Who's we?"

"Whoever's left," she answers grimly. The food sits in front of her. Neither of them are eating.

"The Avengers initiative was meant to be a one-time thing," Tony says, but he isn't finished.

She nods, understanding what he's getting at, but unable to resist making a quip. "Actually, it was supposed to be a no-time thing."

He looks at her with searching eyes. "Natasha. Are the Avengers going to have to reform?"

Natasha avoids his gaze, and instead picks up a piece of apple. She turns it in her hand, inspects it, tries to avoid the answer she knows that she'll have to give him. "Yes," she replies quietly, giving in. "I think we will."

Tony sits back, and Natasha doesn't know what to expect. Is he going to refuse? Be frustrated?

Instead, he smiles widely. "Good. I didn't build personalized floors for all you for nothing."

"What?"

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