Chapter 2

Clint stayed home for about a week. He tried to split his time between the farm and the compound as best he could, but at times that was easier said than done. One day around noon he reappeared, bag in hand, looking far less stressed than the last time Natasha had seen him.

"Hey, how was home?" Natasha asked, knowing he loved telling stories about Laura and the kids.

"Home was good. Home was home. Although we could've set an extra place at the dinner table. There's always a seat open for you, you know." Clint reached out to hug her, knowing it stressed her out just enough when one of them was away that the normally distant redhead would welcome the contact. No one was quite sure why she would stress about something like that, or even why it was enough that she was okay with things like hugs once they returned, but no one ever dared mention it.

All of the Avengers were rather tactile in nature. Just in their own little ways. Tony didn't shake hands but he had days where he would only exist within someone else's personal space. When his brain wasn't rapid firing on some project or another, when he had time for his actual human companions, he tended to be stuck to someone's hip. Sitting close enough on the couch to dramatically flop across a lap or splay out enough to twine his feet with someone's legs, it was always something.

The trust needed for this closeness was almost as hard won as Natasha's lack of it. It had been literal years before it became natural for him to be in contact with another human. Bruce had been similar in his need for space, although obviously for different reasons. They had taken extra care to show him they didn't fear him or what he could become. And in doing so they had normalized the Hulk for him as much as for themselves.

Bruce still referred to him as "the other guy" but it was in an almost fond manner now. They had come to learn Bruce was very nearly touch starved, having avoided close contact with almost everyone in his life for years. They knew now not to touch him unless they had actual time to devote to him. He especially liked laying with his head in someone's lap or sitting on the floor leaning against an occupied chair or couch and having his hair played with. Just fingers combing through his messy curls worked miracles on him.

They had learned the hard way that it was all or nothing with Bruce. Although he was a minority designation, a Beta (the layman's term for a baseline human) and an entirely different set of rules applied to him, his response to touch after being deprived of it for so long could easily be mistaken for a routine drop. Subtle but obvious, he melted into whoever laid a gentle touch on his shoulder, stroked his cheek, or put an arm around his waist to pull him close. It was as endearing as it was unexpected, given what an awkward mess of a person he presented to the general public.

It resembled a drop in every way. If he didn't get his fill, he wouldn't ask for more. No, not Bruce. But he would be out of sorts for a time, almost as though he was beating himself up for wanting, even expecting more.

They had all figured out that was exactly the case and made an unspoken vow to never let him settle for any less than what he wanted. Always more than he needed, because they all knew what he needed was much less than what he deserved.

Thor- an alien/Norse god- was a different animal entirely. He was truly like a puppy, an overgrown one, who genuinely thinks their spot is on whatever lap they land on. No, he had never sat on any of them, but the sentiment remained the same. Always with a hand on the shoulder, an arm slung around someone's shoulders or waist, trapping them to his side, sitting full body, shoulder to foot pressed against whoever he had dragged to sit with him on the couch or love seat that night. It was endearing, really. Thor didn't spend much time on world but when he did personal space always took a hit.

Natasha tended to keep her distance. The others, being unable to get a read off her, didn't think to question it. After Steve left on his motorcycle to acclimate to this new century, there was something off about Natasha. No one knew what, but Clint, Pepper, hell, even Tony noticed it. They tried to bring her into their lives more, include her in things they were doing more often, but nothing really seemed to help. Eventually it was Bruce who got her looped in with them again.

He had been at Shield purely by chance, Tony having requested he look over something the Shield lab people couldn't crack.

They had met in passing, Bruce spotting her and changing his course from the resources area he had been heading for, to instead fall into step beside her. He had been going to research a couple of things in Russian, so Natasha could save him loads of time. It was her first language after all.

They ended up going to the resource room anyway, a large library with files and books relevant to everything Shield was involved in as well as tech resources, data banks, and whatever latest model computers Tony had come out with. There were a couple of couches, chairs, a coffee table and end tables in one corner to serve as a break from the uncomfortable desks found scattered everywhere else in the room.

It happened when she perched on the arm of the chair he was sitting in, looking over his shoulder at whatever papers he was reading. She had her arm laid along the back of the chair, resting just above his shoulders and occasionally coming into contact with them. Unintentionally, her arm slid further down as she became more engrossed in the papers until she was nearly leaning on Bruce, arm curled slightly around his left shoulder, hand just hanging naturally at his side.

Slowly Natasha realized Bruce wasn't as enthusiastic about his project anymore. In fact, he sounded less focused than she had ever heard him before. He was responding to her questions but only the bare minimum. She stopped and looked at him for the first time in probably twenty minutes. No, she thought, it couldn't be...

And yet it was. His eyes were unfocused, his expression lax, as though all of his carefully controlled emotions had gotten away from him. Natasha didn't quite know what to do, but she knew she couldn't just leave. Instead she settled in, bringing her hand up to stroke along his arm in short strokes, and tightened her arm ever so slightly around his shoulders. The tone to his responses got a little breathy, his speech just noticeably less enunciated, but other than that, they just continued on as they had been.

About an hour later, Bruce seemed to come back to himself enough to realize what he had been doing. He tensed under Natasha's arm and pulled away a bit. Natasha was having none of it. She let him go, a bit disappointed, but instead of pulling him back to show it was alright, she straightened herself up some and reached out a hand to card through his hair under the pretense of fixing it. In reality, she wanted to relax him again before saying what needed saying.

"This has been nice. It was nice to be needed for something other than my Black Widow skill set." Natasha joked but somehow it felt more like truth than anything. "You seemed to enjoy it too. Maybe we can do this again sometime?"

Bruce looked shy at her bluntness in addressing the situation. But he was still too relaxed to make any attempt to cover up how much he had enjoyed himself. "Um, yeah, I was, it was nice, you were, I mean- you didn't have to do that. But yes, it was very...nice." He finished a bit uncertainly, as though he would be shamed for admitting to such a thing.

Well Natasha wouldn't stand for that. "You can find me anytime you need me. I'm always up for something more mind challenging than body challenging. It was pretty relaxing for me too. Almost therapeutic, wasn't it?" She really needed him to understand that this was okay.

She didn't want to think about why that was.

"Yeah- yes, it was." Now he was really coming back to himself, regaining control of himself, taking the reins again. "Thank you, Natasha. That was far more than what I had initially planned to have you help me with..." He fixed his glasses back onto his face from where they had been sitting on an end table. "...would you like to come back to the tower with us? Me and Tony, that is. We were just here consulting and I should probably go and find him but I'm sure he would be thrilled to have you come back... I think he gets a kick out of having us there with him. Much more entertaining for him than just me, I'm sure. And I know that's not really me paying you back or anything but-"

"Sure, Bruce. That sounds good." Natasha secretly found the rambling sweet, but she didn't want that stress she had managed to rid him of returning so soon. "I probably need to work on being around people again after everything too." Natasha made sure to measure her words carefully, lest she say something that could give her away.

Bruce beamed. "Great! I'll just go find Tony then. Are you free to leave? Should we wait for you or-?"

"No, I'm a free agent for the rest of the day." And with that they collected their things and stood then headed out to the hallway to find Tony and go back to the tower.

And Natasha never really left after that. She meant to, she really did. She just...couldn't. First it was Bruce needing her to stay so he knew what had happened with them was alright, then it was Tony with this, that, and the other thing, and then Clint doing things that Tony kept trying to kill him for, and then it was Steve. He had come back. Finally. And by then she didn't even want to leave anymore.

She refused to acknowledge that there might be a reason behind that. It just happened. And for the first time in a long time, she felt okay. She felt safe, she felt accepted, and, most importantly, she felt wanted.

It was an entirely new feeling, and she wasn't about to let go of it. She would treasure it for as long as she could. Because she was bound to mess it up. She always did.