"Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart." ― Haruki Murakami (Kafka on the Shore)
It started in the training gym.
The day's agenda was simple: defeat Captain America. The actual exercise was fairly tame for now, so Steve was holding his own againt the other four quite easily. But that wouldn't last for long. It was a teamwork exercise ― it was time to see how well the new team could work together to bring down one of the founding Avengers and America's beloved hero out of time.
Natasha stood off to the side, observing. Steve had his hands full as it was, now that they were picking up the pace, so he needed eyes elsewhere. That suited her just fine. She watched with a narrowed gaze. They still weren't a team. They were clumsy, sporadic even, but they were getting closer. It was just taking time ― time that the original Avengers had never been given. So, if anything, they were doing well enough.
Besides, it wasn't as if it weren't a challenge for all of them, Captain America and the Black Widow included. She was a spy first and foremost. Three of the new group had entirely different military backgrounds. One had only been 'born' a few months ago and was deemed worthy by an alien hammer. The other... Natasha watched the young witch clad in scarlet, unsure what to think about her.
Actually, thinking about Wanda Maximoff for too long gave her an unpleasant headache.
It was taking a long time to warm up to the young Sokovian woman. Steve sometimes tried to joke that Natasha always started brooding when Wanda was near but, in reality, he was speaking the truth. Natasha knew this feeling. It was the same feeling Banner had given her for the longest time after the fight on the helicarrier. She had put on a brave face during the Battle of New York but nothing could change the fact that her heart had raced every time she thought there was about to be a 'Code Green'. Something had eventually changed... for both of them, but it had taken years. In the end, she had reminded herself that she had faced death many times and survived. She could tame her fear of death. But unlike with Banner, she hadn't faced death around Wanda. She had faced her past. To Natasha, that was much, much worse.
And that was a fear that she had no idea how to tame.
Natasha watched the fight in front of her. Steve looked winded. Huh, maybe they were going to manage this after all. But then something caught Natasha's eye: a tendril of red, slipping towards Steve. She had watched the explosions in the air and inexplicable hex shields, all made the same shade of strange, unknown energy. But those tendrils... she knew those tendrils. Natasha had to bite her lip to avoid calling out to Steve. He could handle this ― they all could. They never would have allowed the Scarlet Witch on the team if they couldn't. And Clint, Natasha reminded herself, had vouched for her personally. Trust Clint, she thought, he has never lied to you before.
But she couldn't watch. Whatever the young woman was going to inflict upon Steve, she doubted it would be as severe as before but Natasha couldn't stick around to witness it. She headed for the gym doors and her heels echoed loudly across the room, but it was the slam of the door that caught everyone's attention as they came to an abrupt pause.
"Natasha?" Steve called out.
He looked at the others, frowning in confusion.
"Okay, take ten. We'll pick this up in a bit."
Steve was already on his way out but he could hear the jests of Sam and the others from afar.
"Damn, the old man is gonna get a chance to recharge and we almost had him too."
"It was my observation that he was holding back. Perhaps we should come up with a different strategy to force his hand in the next round," came the strangely JARVIS-like voice of the Vision, something that was still somewhat jarring to the others.
"Might as well listen to Tony's new android. JARVIS has never technically been wrong before, right?"
"I feel I must remind you, Colonel Rhodes, that I am not JARVIS but an entirely separate entity. While I may sound like Anthony Stark's program, I bear almost no similarities with the enhancements of the mind stone."
"Yeah yeah, just tell us what you think we should do 'cause man, that guy lives up to his reputation with that shield of his."
Steve was gone before he could hear their new plan of action. Meanwhile, the only member of the new Avengers that remained silent was Wanda. She watched Captain America depart with a small frown on her lips. She could sense when something was wrong; she always could. And right now, something was very wrong and she knew that it was entirely her own fault.
"Natasha?" Steve called.
He sighed. Where had she taken off to this time? He glanced around, only to see that one of the access doors to a nearby stairwell was open. He took off towards it at a quick, jogging pace, making it halfway up the stairs when he saw Natasha disappearing through another door above him.
"Romanoff!"
Steve chased her the rest of the way up the stairs and down the hallway she had wandered into.
"Romanoff, would you slow down?"
Natasha turned back toward him with a rather dark look. That couldn't be a sign of anything good, Steve thought. Her moods had been improving, ever since their talk about Banner. It seemed as if she was coming to accept that Banner was not coming back... at least not yet. So what had her so upset this time? Natasha glared at him and started walking away again.
"Dammit, Natasha, wait up."
"What? Were the kids too much for you today?"
It was supposed to be a joke but it came out colder than Natasha had intended. She came to an abrupt halt, sighing. She needed Clint. She always needed Clint these days but aside from their talks on the phone, he just couldn't be there when she needed him most. Who was she kidding? His family needed him most and she would be selfish to expect to be his first priority with a new baby taking up most of his time. Natasha knew Clint didn't care any less about her but his hands were just too full. She had not expected anything different. And sometimes, Natasha truly hated how much she relied on him when it came to matters concerning her past. He was the only one that knew everything. God, she needed Clint but she knew that she had to learn to cope without him. She had done it before and she could do it again.
Steve paused when she just stopped in the middle of the hallway. She was facing away from him but Steve knew when Natasha was lost in her thoughts. She didn't often space out but sometimes she became distracted just like the rest of them. And something about her comment was making him think he knew what it was about.
"You don't approve of the new team."
Natasha rounded on him, looking torn between two responses. Her face fell and she crossed her arms, looking away, telling Steve all that he needed to know.
"Maximoff?"
Natasha pressed her lips together and gestured for Steve to follow. They made their way into the observation room, the one which overlooked the entire training gym. From there, they could see the entire 'team'. Natasha fell into the nearest seat, staring down at them with a stony expression.
"Nat, talk to me. What's wrong?"
"She was in my head, Steve. I've worked alongside far worse people but she... I've been unmade. Over and over, someone eventually comes along and tears me apart again." Natasha gestured toward the observation window. "And the one responsible is right there, Steve."
Steve sat down next to her silently. He had wondered when someone would eventually bring up the obvious tension the Maximoff girl caused with her mere presence. He had to admit, even he was shaken whenever he felt her powers getting into his head. But, to her credit, she never did anything more than give anyone a small shock, so to speak ― just enough to get them off their guard. She had never intentionally tried to hurt any of them that way again. But Natasha... he knew why Natasha didn't trust her. He had watched back at the farmhouse as Clint had pulled Natasha away from the others, taking her into another room, probably to bring her back from wherever her mind had strayed after Wanda's tricks. She hadn't truly come back to them until after Clint spoke some sense into her. That was something Steve doubted he would ever be able to do for Natasha. It hurt him to feel so helpless around his new partner. They were the leaders of this team now and yet he didn't even know how to get through to her when it came to subjects like her past. He barely even knew what she had really seen that day. She didn't want to talk about it and Steve respected that.
"You don't trust her."
"No," Natasha practically hissed.
She didn't trust Wanda Maximoff in the slightest.
Little did Natasha know, that while she and Steve had been talking, one figure had disappeared from the training gym unseen. And now she stood outside the observation room door, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared at the floor in front of her. Wanda slowly walked away, not about to interrupt the two other Avengers now.
Natasha heard a knock on her door later that night. She glanced at the clock ― only 0800. It wasn't that late but after returning to the training gym in a less than ideal mood, she had disappeared as soon as she could. Her quarters in the new Avengers facility reminded her of those at S.H.I.E.L.D. Simplistic and modern, with no hint of personal effects that would indicate that someone was actually living here. It was exactly how Natasha liked it. Besides, it wasn't as if she had any photographs or the like to hang up. On her phone, she had a few pictures of Clint and his family and a couple of Steve on their days off back when they had both worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. She tried not to be sentimental. Any of the things she held dear were just things that could be ripped away from her at any moment. She had been painfully reminded of that recently.
The knock repeated and Natasha pulled herself out of bed and ran a hand through her hair, assuming it was Steve coming to check up on her.
It wasn't.
The Scarlet Witch stood there, wrapped in her red shawl, looking at Natasha with an unwavering expression that even Natasha had difficulty deciphering.
"Agent Romanoff," she greeted, a bit more formally than Natasha would have liked but then again, they had barely spoken in the time that the witch had been here.
"Maximoff," Natasha replied stiffly.
She supposed it would only be polite to let the younger woman come in. Natasha indicated with a small gesture that Wanda should do so and the brunette followed her without a word. Natasha just sat down on the edge of her bed, leaving the girl standing in the middle of her quarters. This didn't seem to deter her.
"You do not trust me," she stated, breaking the tense silence with a fact.
"No, I don't."
Natasha wasn't going to lie and try to placate the young woman. That was not her style. Since the beginning, she had told each of their new recruits exactly what she was thinking. Steve was the one to nurture them and she was the one who played the drill sergeant. At first, it had been a small joke between them since Steve was the real soldier. But in the end, those were their roles and they stuck to them.
"Your friend... Barton. Does he trust me?" Wanda asked, tilting her head to the side, trying to anticipate the Black Widow's answer.
Natasha hesitated to reply. She could have snapped and lied. She certainly was in that kind of mood. Besides, she wasn't sure how many of them really trusted this girl but... Barton did. And she trusted Clint, she reminded herself once again. He had seen something in Wanda and she couldn't argue with Clint about that. He was adamant that she would be an asset to their team. Even Steve had assured her that he saw the same potential that Clint had. Natasha, however, had not been so sure.
She still wasn't but that didn't answer Wanda's question.
"He does."
Natasha raised an eyebrow. Where was she trying to go with this? Wanda slowly approached, looking down at her feet momentarily before looking up again, more sure of herself. She was not going to back down, not even in front of someone like the Black Widow who had no reason to trust her, let alone tolerate her presence in her personal quarters alone at night. But she had something she needed to do.
"Then will you trust me for Barton?"
The girl's eyes flashed red and Natasha recoiled upon the appearance of the thin, red tendrils that curled through the air between them.
"Stop."
Wanda took a step back. She closed her eyes briefly and took a breath. She had to explain somehow.
"With my powers, I can see into others' memories. When I touched your mind, I did not expect to see... what I did. I was mistaken to believe the things that I did about Stark, about the Avengers. Pietro was the one who saw that first, I think. He was brave in the end and yet I caused only pain."
When she opened her eyes again, Natasha was watching her, expression guarded but attentive. Wanda took that as an invitation to continue.
"When we were just children, something terrible happened. And I cannot forget, even when I try. Eventually, I forgot how happy we had once been, that there had been a time before the pain and anger. But Pietro reminded me... he brought back the happy memories when all I could see was bad."
She reached out, red tendrils twisting forward until they stopped just before they touched Natasha.
"Please trust me."
When the Black Widow did not move, Wanda's eyes went scarlet and her mind touched the assassin's. At first, it was as if she was not even there. But then she was present, sifting through the other woman's memories until she found the one that she was looking for. She had seen it once, deep within Natasha's mind in a place where she doubted even the other woman knew where to find it. It was hidden, forgotten but not destroyed. She pulled the memory forward, until they were no longer in the Black Widow's quarters but another place entirely:
An apartment building.
"Mамочка!"
A woman stood by the stove, her long red hair pulled back in a braid. She approached the tiny girl, no older than three years old, with open arms before picking her up and settling her on her hip with a gentle smile.
"Дорогая Наташа," she sighed, pressing a kiss to the mop of red curls upon her daughter's head.
Wanda stayed behind, watching from a distance while Natasha stood in silence, watching the scene play out in front of her.
"Mамочка..." she repeated, hardly daring to breathe.
This was her memory, one she had forgotten for decades. This was long before S.H.I.E.L.D., before the KGB, even before the Red Room, in a place so far back in her memories that she had only thought it to be a dream. She watched in silent awe, her green eyes welling with tears as a third figure joined the first two in the room.
Two voices, young and old, merged upon his arrival:
"папа!"
His hair was dark and his beard sprinkled with flecks of grey that had arrived too early for his age. His green eyes glittered as the tiny girl squirmed away from her mother to run to her father. She jumped into his large arms as he picked her up and spun her around the kitchen. Little Natalia shrieked in delight and pressed a kiss to her father's cheek.
"Я люблю тебя, папа."
The man laughed, a deep and hearty chuckle, and lifted his daughter onto his shoulders while her mother returned to the dinner she had been preparing for her family. Natalia began chattering in rapid Russian, much to her parents' amusement. She told them of the bugs she had caught outside on the steps, pointing to the jar on the table. Tiny beetles climbed up and down the sides. She went on to proudly explain how she had caught them all by herself.
"Наташа, мой маленький паук."
And then it was gone. The faces faded and the scene began to disappear, leaving Natasha and Wanda alone together once more. Natasha looked up, her brow furrowed and her lips parted as if to speak but without any words to say. Wanda let her hand drop to her side.
"When we were small, Pietro told me stories about our parents. He had twelve minutes longer with them than I did. I wanted to find a way to bring them back and when I couldn't, I thought that forgetting the happy memories would make it less painful to think about what we had lost. But... Pietro kept telling his stories. After awhile, they were enough."
Natasha nodded, still unable to speak. Wanda shifted, about to turn and leave, when Natasha stopped her.
"You knew?"
Wanda wasn't sure how to respond.
"I saw it before."
They lapsed into silence once more. Natasha rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes and chewed her bottom lip. Wanda didn't know what to say. There was nothing she could do to fix the memories she had made the woman relive in South Africa. But she had thought that perhaps... she had hoped that the Black Widow could see that she could bring back more than just nightmares. She hoped the Black Widow would not see her as the monster who had torn her apart and maybe one day see her as an Avenger. There was nothing else she could do except earn back the Black Widow's trust, one day at a time.
But this was the best she could do for now.
She turned to leave, showing herself to the door. Wanda had her fingers wrapped around the handle when she heard a soft voice behind her.
"Thank you."
Wanda slipped out of the room and Natasha cried for the first time in a long time. Except this time, she cried not out of pain and fear, but the genuine loss she had not been able to remember. And for some reason, it made her feel better. Now she could mourn the parents she had forgotten and she finally had that one memory to hold onto.
One happy memory from her past.
* Mамочка ― mama
* Дорогая Наташа ― dearest Natasha
* папа ― papa
* Я люблю тебя, папа ― I love you, Papa
* Наташа, мой маленький паук ― Natasha, my little spider