No more love to purchase, I've invested in myself

You know nothing about me, keep opinions to yourself

No more complications, everything's just swell

No more obligations, there's nothing more to tell

I just want to be alone

-Seether

Pop, Pop, Pop.

Natasha has an agreement with her gun. She aims and fires, it hits the target, every time. It never lets her down.

I'm not leaving you anytime soon, Nat—

She pushed the voice from her head, squeezing off a few more rounds. Her gun can't leave. Her gun can't die. She loves it for that. Finally, Natasha laid the gun down on the table, surveying her handiwork at the far end of the range. Her eyes drifted to the far wall, to the years of famous arms that hung there. Ancient swords and guns, all the way down to a modern re-curve bow.

My bow's got a space on that wall, Nat. I'm just that cool.

Why would Tony make room on his special wall for your hunk of metal?

He had looked aghast, and she almost smiled at the memory. But his bow shouldn't be hanging up there in honor of their fallen team mate. It should be at his side. "Oh, Clint," she murmured, frowning at it. Her own gun clattered when she tossed it onto the table and made a hasty exit, hoping no one saw her staring teary-eyed at the Stark Amory Wall.

The living room was eerily silent as Natasha settled into her chair at the table to wait. She knew Cap was late on purpose- he'd never make her wait unless he had a reason too.

When Bruce sat down across from her with his morning paper, she realized what that reason was. She had been running from this conversation all week, but Bruce was determined, and now he had even gotten Steve to help pin her into talking.

"How are you doing?" He asked finally.

"Get off my case, doc," she replied over the rim of her mug. "I have a team of SHEILD psychologists that say I'm making adequate progress."

"But they can't tell when you're lying to them."

"And you can?"

He sighed. "No. I can't. But I'd like to think you wouldn't-"

"I would lie to you, and you know it. I'll tell you something, though. A long time ago, someone told me to stop trying to find a place to call home. 'Make your skeleton the only structure you need,' he said." She stood, picking up her keys and half-empty coffee mug. "I am all I need. I didn't need him, and I don't need condolences and psycho-analyzations. I was better off when everyone was afraid of me. I had much more room to breathe." She walked away then, not even glancing back as Bruce stared after her.

Safely in the elevator, Natasha leaned back against the wall and let her eyes slide closed. It had been two whole weeks since Clint Barton died, and it still tore a hole right through her chest. She remembered when the SHEILD agent had shown up at the door to the Stark tower, his bow in hand. "We're returning it to you, since he had no living family members." Thinking back, she should have told them Barney was alive, go find Barney, but it was all she could do to keep her feet beneath her as they placed the cool metal in her hand. It was familiar, that bow; Clint had taught her to shoot it many years ago. Back when they were fresh partners, trying to learn each other's weapons and minds. It hadn't taken long before Natasha had actually forgotten how it felt to be alone. To live for yourself and fight for what you want. To not have a friend or rules to live by or missions to complete.

How quickly things can change once you begin to feel comfortable where you are.

The elevator dinged to announce her arrival, and she stepped out slowly, relishing the feeling of carpet beneath her feet. Many of the floors in the Stark Tower were custom, and they were all different. This was one of the only ones carpeted (because carpet is so hard to clean, Tony had complained.) She managed to walk past Clint's door without pausing, straight into her own room.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, Miss Romanoff?" She had broken him of the ma'am habit months ago, but he retained his upmost formality.

"Let Steve know I won't be going out with him today. Extend my apologies, if you will."

"Of course."

With that, she was alone again.