"I'm telling you man, it's a bad idea!"

Clint protested as Stark rambled on about his plans for Natasha's birthday. "No it's not, you're just jealous that nobody made a big fuss about your birthday. Anyway Katniss, even a red headed, sort tempered assassin needs to let her hair down every once in a while. You guys agree with me right?" Tony raised an eyebrow gesturing to the fellow avengers lounging around the living room of the avengers tower.

"Personally" Bruce began "I'm not one for parties, but you're only 29 once." Stark nodded along, pleased with Bruce's agreement. "With that said..." Suddenly loosing interest Stark held up his hand and interrupted "Hold it there, Banner! That's all I wanted. Spangles you agree with me too right?"

Steve looked up from his newspaper, his eyes twitching from Barton to Stark. "Well we should let Nat choose, after all it is her birthday." Stark instantly leap forward, "good call; Spangles grab the birthday banner, Thor put that party popper between your godly lips and Katniss...one word out of you about tonight and..." Stark made a number of miming movements which ended with a exaggerated volcano eruption. Clint just rolled his eyes and reluctantly followed the rest of the guys.


Natasha rolled around in the sheets, searching for a comfortable position. Either she was too hot or too cold and whenever she did find a comfy position it was soon disrupted by a new memory, one just as painful as the last, repeating itself before her eyes. With a grunt she sat up in bed, nothing was going to work, least of all today. Her breathe quickened as the harsh growl of comments replayed in her head. "You're a monster! Monster! MONSTER!" "Your ledger is dripping!" "Are YOU ready, for the world to see YOU as YOU really are?" "Natalia, it's been too long." "Are you ready to comply?" Her reverie ended with the piercing scream from an 8 year old girl before her untimely death.

Slowly Natasha removed her statue like hold from the tip of the knife (she keep under her pillow for emergencies, you could never be too trusting) a tear of blood dripped from her hand. Out of the blue a thump hit her bedroom door, the hair on the back of her neck stood abrupt as an army of goose bumps invaded her body. Silently she ran to her door, her hand tightened around the handle. In a flash of light she spun the door open, jumped forward and tackled the man to the ground. The knife was against his throat, pressing deeper into the skin. It took her a moment to recognise the face of the man trapped between her legs. She let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. "Stark!" She snarled.

"This is not how I imagined this morning going, but it's always nice to be pleasantly surprised. But...huh...red we have witnesses." In a swift moment she turned to see: Steve, holding a birthday banner which was now crumpled between his finger tips, Clint, wearing a weary smile with his head in his hands, Bruce, clearly uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact with animate and inanimate objects alike and Thor who had a party popper between his lips that he began blowing in and out of, causing a life like imitation of Natasha's heart beat roaring in her ears. "Happy birthday Tasha!" She eyed Clint who gave her a sympathetic look. Steadily she jumped up off of Stark, the dagger to his throat was replaced with the lasers from her emerald eyes, and instantly turned back to her room. "Natasha..." Steve blocked the door about to be slammed into his face. "Don't you wanna come and open some presents?" She gave a dark chuckle. "I'm not in the mood." "Aww, does the assassin" Her flinch was vivid to everyone in the room. "Not enjoy celebrating her birthday! I thought you'd be more mature about getting a year older, but like I said. Always full of surprises." At that he'd caught Natasha's attention. She bit her lip and then stormed to the elevator, she didn't wait to see if they followed her.


The silence was deafening and the tension was thicker than Thor's hair on a summers day. You could have cut through it with a knife, hell you could have cut it with a spoon if you tried. Clint was eyeing Romanoff, preparing to hold her back if needs be. Her birthdays were always...interesting. It was the one day of the year where she allowed herself to be sensitive, to feel the weight of all her past actions and the concern for all her future ones. It was only recently that Tasha had even told him why she got so different on her birthdays and it was one hell of a story. He knew that she'd have to tell the others soon, so did she but he needed her to do of her own accord. He knew that it may not be as simple though.

"So Natasha, whose gift would you like to open first?" Stark pestered. She glared at him, "Actually I only want one gift from you Stark." She battered her eyelashes at him, "Oh yeah, what did you have in mind? A repeat of earlier...huh" she blushed, Natasha Romanoff actually blushed. Barton held back a laugh knowing what was about to come. Steve forced a rather exaggerated cough, as Nat lent forward, curling her red tassels around her finger. "Actually no, I wanted you to leave me alone for the rest of the year and cancel any predictable plans you scheduled for tonight!" Suddenly a knife was wedged between Nat's fingers as she began filing her nails. Stark started choking on his food as a foot visibly hit him in his...special area.

"Jesus Christ Natasha, he was just trying to..." Rogers was brutally stopped by a look from the corner of Tasha's eye. "Trying to what? Mock me, or make me feel better...because honestly I can't tell the difference anymore."

Thor bowed his head before quietly enquiring "Has...uh...something happened. My dear friend seems to be very distressed and believe me I have experienced the rough wrath of Starks humour first hand. Therefore, I know he doesn't truly, completely, fully mean it." Without anybody having noticed Stark had placed a bag of peas over his crotch area and began explaining. "It's fine, Thundar from down undar" he paused at which point Barton chummed in "Are those my peas?" Stark continued "Some women just have a tough time dealing with ageing and it's called a little something like, midlife crises! Or, Natty is it something else entirely...did somebody have a wild night and get knocked up?" Oh he'd done it now, Clint was suddenly desperate to distract Nat before she did something...she wouldn't necessarily regret but be put behind bars for. He watched as Natasha stood, facing off against Tony. "You know what..." Bruce taking the hint began "Those are your peas Clint, didn't we plan to cook those tomorrow night?" The odour of discomfort was radiating off him as he swiftly took interest in his shoes. "Not anymore, we're not!" Nat pounced like a cat. "I'll tell you where to stick those peas!" In a blast Stark was pinned against a wall and Nat was drawing back her knife. Both Barton and Rogers leaped into action, dragging her away. Hastily she struggled free. "Just tell them!" Clint screamed. The silence that followed was filled with loud inhales of shallow air.

"Tell us what?" Steve broke the secret promise of silence. Barton noticed how he was eyeing up Nat, he'd known that during Cap's battle with the winter soldier he'd grow close to Tasha, they'd developed a strong bond. But he hadn't realised how strong. Nat suddenly lent forward gasping for air, Rogers ran forward but Clint held him at bay. "Nat just tell them." Barton pleaded. "I can't! I CAN'T DO IT CLINT!" She roared before charging off into the hallway, the slam of a bedroom door hit him like a brick wall.


Steve was pacing, leaving heat marks in the carpet. Stark was going to be on his case about that, he could already image the conversation "So Ahhh...did you have company or did you manage to get friction burn all on your own?"

He was still pissed about this morning, after Nat had stormed off, leaving the rest of the team glaring at Clint waiting for an explanation. One they didn't get, sure it wasn't his place to tell them. But Nat had attacked Stark twice in the space of half an hour. Shortly after that Stark had fainted, claiming he needed immediate medical attention so the guys just carried him to his room and hoped he'd be awake by the time Pepper was home. When they'd finally dragged themselves away from the demanding billionaire they found Natasha sat down at the kitchen table. They expected her to tell them what the hell was going on, but Nat being Nat left them guessing and declared that she'd be leaving for a while. At that all hell had broken loose in which Thor had broken two lamps, Steve had gotten into a burning fight with Natasha in which you could still see the steam poring from their harsh and hateful words of rage and Clint had began climbing the furniture. Bruce trying to stay calm had evacuated the building. Now Steve, being the gentlemen he was standing outside Natasha's room, debating whether or not to knock or just charge in.

Finally his pacing most have ticked of Nat because she opened the door to glare at the soldier. "You're gonna set the floor alight if you don't stop pacing." When he looked up at her she returned her gaze to the window at the end of the corridor. "Good, maybe a burning building will stop you from abandoning us." He saw her grimace and instantly regretted the snarl that had spilled from his clenched jaw. Cautiously he followed her back into her room, pulling the door to but also leaving it open a fraction in case he needed an escape route.

He watched her and saw the dark bags of a restless sleep under her eyes, a thin layer of sweat clung to her face like a thick suffocating blanket. Her red curls hung limply around her face, instead of framing her features it acted more like a curtain so she could keep people out. But worst of all were her once olive green eyes, which were now sickly coloured and forever moving. Never trusting her to hold the gaze of one thing, especially him. Clasping in on herself she retreated into the large leather sofa, her head between her knees. Steadily he walked forward and bent down on his knees, so they were eye level. Gently he lifted her head up so she had to look at him, his thumb softly rubbed over her cheekbone. He was so lost in her trapped, tormented eyes that it wasn't until a glistening tear dripped onto his hand that he contemplated how destroyed she was. He was astounded, sure he'd definitely seen her vulnerable but never broken. At least not like this. - A memory suddenly came to life before his eyes, he was a boy again. In his small home in Brooklyn. He'd just knocked over a China doll that had belonged to his mother, he expected it to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. Instead a hundred tiny cracks had simply appeared. His mother had told him they were veins, the things that carried to blood to the heart. She had said, that you must never break somebody or allow somebody to break, because once those veins broke so did the heart. - he looked at her and saw the tiny cracks in her armour, he urged for them to close up again. Without realising it they'd both leaned in until her nose was tickling his. Their now shallow breaths were sonic booms in the distance. As much as he wanted to kiss her, and believe me he wanted to, this was the first time he'd seen her like this; not only as a love interest - sure he'd noticed her figure and lush looks but he'd never thought to try or even that those feelings would be returned - but as distrait as she was and he feared that by trying to comfort her with a kiss she'd shut herself off again and therefore bury the feelings instead of dealing and fighting with them.

Reluctantly he moved back and instead of removing his touch completely he simply relocated his hands to her knees. "Nat" his voice struggled to hold its own and she struggled to hold his gaze, but he gave such a level of desperation that she was glued in place. "Please, let me in. Tell me what's going on?" He watched as the light left her eyes and she stiffened, an excruciating silence dragged on for several moments. Her wispy voice sliced through his heart like a knife. "Why should I tell you? I already told Clint and look where that got me, everybody's on edge...anticipating a reason. What if I don't have a reason? What if the famous Black Widow everybody's so terrified of is just showing her true venom." Steve strongly and vivaciously shook his head. "You saw how I was with Stark today...I can't ...Steve I." His inability to except that this is the end result, poured over and he was beyond boiling point. "No Natasha no. Hey!" His fingers found her chin. "Look at me, you're not going to hurt me."

She muttered, gazing into his blue eyes "I couldn't live with myself if I did." Relying on instinct only he bowed his head, reaching for her lips. But instead he found the empty air she'd been previously occupying. Silent as a cat, she'd leap off the sofa, escaping his desire to comfort her. Against his own good will, he followed her movements with his eyes, he allowed himself to feel the pain of displaying such affection and having it ignored. When Nat saw his face, she grimaced "I can't Rogers! Don't you know how much harder it would be to leave if..." He trapped her in his gaze. To him it was simple "Then don't." He demanded, standing up from his pitiful crouch. It was vivid that Natasha had had enough, as she circled her pray. Looking for a weak spot, searching for all the hateful things she could say to make him cower in fear and agony.

She didn't miss a beat as the bold bitter taunts were sold cold. "Why would I listen to you Rogers? what right gives you the power to order me around. You may be the avengers leader, but you certainly aren't mine. You don't have the power, or intelligence to know what's best for you. Let alone me. Hell, you couldn't even save yourself during WW2." Steve did his best to not let her hatred abuse him, but she was sending bullets out left, right and centre. It was only a matter of time before one of them hit gold. "You couldn't save the world then, so what makes you think you can save it now? And even if you could, you'd loose one of us alone the way. That's how you play isn't it?" The amused smirk on her face, told him she'd struck for the heart. "Your parents, Howard, Bucky...Peggy." She shoots, she scores. He felt like his heart had exploded and his lungs were caving in. A look of dismay pierced her eyes, but it was so quick he couldn't have been certain it was even there to begin with. The weight of the words were hitting him like a punch to the groin. "One by one, you left them and now they've left you. Who will be your next victim. Thor...Banner...Stark...Barton" a dramatic pause made him hold his breath as a flood of blurry images clouded his watery eyes. "Me? Who else will pay the price of getting in the soldiers way? Because it sure as hell won't be me." After she delivered the killing strike a witches chuckle set his jaw on edge, as a determined scowl possessed his face. Natasha then turned before the pain of her hateful words sunk in and she called them back, she needed to do this, she reminded herself. Thinking she'd finished him off she headed for the door but was silently surprised as she was grabbed from behind. A forceful hand grabbed at her wrist, yanking her around to face the fury driven soldier.

"I know what you're trying to do and it stops now!" She tried to snatch her hand free from his iron grip, but she soon discovered it was pointless. "Let go Rogers." She said the words slowly and calmly but they were paired with blood curdling olive scanning eyes that were ripping him apart piece by piece. "No! Not until you listen to me Natasha, you were right. I did all those horrible things and I allowed them to happen, but the difference between you and I is that instead of running from my problems I face them head on and yes what you said hurt. But the reason I can let it go is because I've accepted what I did, have you? And I know you're only saying those things to push me away and let me tell you one thing Romanoff, it's not going to work so you might as well..."

"Tasha...?" Romanoff and Rogers pulled away from each other's murderous perceptions to see a dumbfounded Barton, standing in the door way. Giving Nat a knowing look, whilst avoiding Steve's vision. "Am I interrupting something?" Romanoff looked like she'd just been thrown a curve ball, it took her a moment to regain her control and stability. "No, Rogers was just leaving." In the space of a second Tasha had released her wrist from his loosening grasp and shoved him towards the door. Though he only moved because of the sudden intrusion and suddenly became light on his feet. He set his jaw, glared at Nat once more before abandoning the (once bright and homely) room (and leaving behind the lightless, cold and empty area) without a backwards glance.


"I'm fine Clint, really." Romanoff snuffled a nerve racking sob whilst packing the remanded of her clothes into a rucksack. "Strangely enough, I don't believe you. And that's not because you're the world's best spy or anything. Neither is it because you can beat every lie detector ever created. I just have a feeling." Despite Natasha's damped mood Barton's sarcasm never seemed to miss a target. She allowed herself a brief grin, before zipping up her bag and turning to face it. "I'll be in contact ok?" She sniffed and momentarily managed to stop shaking. "No you won't, just don't be a stranger okay?" She gave him a half hearted nod, she went as if to leave. Paused and then pulled Clint into a stiff hug that he sank into. A minute later he pulled back, revealing a small silver necklace box. She took it with a flying eyebrow, opened it and a gasp escaped her locked lips. "Happy birthday Nat, do you like it.?" She tried to suppress a smile, but the corners of her mouth lifted slightly for a disjointed grin. Quickly Clint enveloped her neck in an arrow necklace before attaching it in place. With that she turned and left, no more needed to be said. He didn't know where she was going, or when she would return. He felt somewhat at a loose end, when the guys realised she'd actually left they'd be bugging him until he spilled. He knew he would, but he was at least going to give her time to cool off and come back before Stark issued a search warrant.