Rumor Has It: Avengers Fanfiction

Written by: Katerinaki

Published: February 19, 2013

Beta'ed: No

Note: I apologize for the delay, but I wrote myself into a corner. However, I have since begun to dig myself a tunnel, out of the corner and will hopefully be working on this a bit more. Thanks for sticking with me, and big thanks to ladygris for the "writer's block" advice.

Part 7:

Natasha hated hospitals. Hospitals meant you did something wrong, or somebody with you did something wrong. Someone, somewhere along the way fucked up and when Natasha fucked up, innocent people died. That was the nature of her job.

She was trying to remember when exactly everything had gone sideways, but the head trauma had scrambled her brains pretty thoroughly. She could just remember bits and pieces. She could hear the rats up ahead, but there was something weird about their steps. It took Natasha about three seconds to realize that there were only two sets of footsteps echoing through the corridor instead of three. Half a second later she was ducking as one of the escorts jumped out of a hidden niche in the concrete wall and swung a crowbar at her head. That would've been it, if it hadn't been for her training. As she ducked, she smashed her boot into her attacker's shin. It didn't break, but Natasha was fairly certain her rats up ahead could hear their buddy's howl of pain. She didn't waste any time, striking the floating rib as she grabbed the arm with the crowbar. She shattered the elbow and dislocated the shoulder in one strike before throwing him over her hip, face first into the floor. Just to be thorough, she made sure to take the crowbar to his temple. He was definitely down for the count, likely dead.

Crowbar in hand, Natasha sprinted on after the two that were getting away. Their footsteps were nearly inaudible by now. This was where her memory became patchy. She swore as she rounded the corner she heard someone speak. A woman, it sounded like, and it definitely wasn't English, though Natasha really had no way of knowing what it was by now. The next memory Natasha had was of an explosion and being blown back against the wall. Rubble fell on her and some of it must've hit her head because she'd been conscious when she hit the ground, but not by the time Stark had supposedly found her. She'd never live that down.

Fury had debriefed her as soon as she woke up. He wanted to try and get as clear a picture as he could, before her brain tried to fill in the gaps in her memory with stuff that didn't actually happen. It wasn't the first time Natasha had woken to a SHIELD handler. Usually it was Coulson, but...

Clint wasn't there when she woke. Jacqueline had gotten the part she wanted in that play she was auditioning for and they were out celebrating. The way Pepper said it, she seemed to expect Natasha to leap up and dash out to assassinate someone. But Natasha found herself surprisingly calm about the whole thing. Maybe it was the pain meds. Regardless, Natasha wasn't about to go out and kill anyone anytime soon. She was benched now, like Clint. Her collarbone had been smashed by falling debris and right now her arm was set in a sling and she was off physical exertion for a while. It left her feeling restless, even though she was by now out of the bed and allowed to walk around, if not much more.

Her walking, naturally led to thinking. In the beginning she thought about the mission, trying to determine what she might've done differently. Her first mistake was to go flying around that corner. She probably tripped a wire somewhere and nearly gotten herself blown up. Her second mistake was to go down alone, but that was beyond her control. Her wingman had been back at HQ and the others were all busy securing the hostages. Of course, that train of thought got her thinking about her "wingman". He'd eventually stopped by to see how she was doing. He seemed anxious and didn't really say much when he did. It was very strange. Every other time he asked how she was doing and they talked over the mission together and decided just when things had gone wrong and how they could fix it so it didn't happen in the future. This time he stared at her mostly. Natasha was sure he wanted to say something, but he never did.

Two days after waking up, Natasha was let out of the medical bay and Clint seemed to make an attempt to bring things back to "normal". They watched movies together, talked over various topics, and all around just tried to be companionable again. But their "normal" was marred by Clint's excursions out to see Jacqueline. During those times, Pepper seemed to make it her goal to distract Natasha with "girl stuff", whether it was shopping or just chatting over a bottle of wine.

"...there's this new boutique down on 83rd that I'd love to go check out," Pepper was saying.

"Sure," Natasha replied, swirling her wine around in her glass.

"We could go after I finish up at work tomorrow."

"Sounds great."

"Excuse me, Miss Potts."

"Yes JARVIS?" Pepper said.

"I feel compelled to inform you that Director Fury is on his way up."

"Thank you JARVIS."

Pepper and Natasha finished their wine as the private elevator doors opened and the director of SHIELD stepped out.

"JARVIS, call the team together," Fury said.

"They are on their way, Agent Fury."

Natasha left Pepper behind, following Fury down to the secure room. Fury only ever came to Stark Tower with Avengers orders. Clint and Natasha both got their individual assignments at the SHIELD building, and the others didn't really go out on their own for much. Maybe SHIELD had a lead on the two rats that had gotten away. They were still at large, having slipped through an escape tunnel that wasn't on the blueprints.

Fury and Natasha waited for the whole team to assemble before JARVIS sealed the door and Fury called up a model of the base. This blueprint was more complete, showing the tunnels below the base that had not been on the original plan.

"Our analysis teams have mapped the underground tunnels that were not on our original schematics," Fury said. "Agent Romanoff followed two terrorists down to here, at which point the terrorists blew a localized explosive, collapsing the tunnel and giving themselves time to escape. After speaking with the hostages, it was determined that these tunnels were a new addition, in the event of an attack where normal evacuation routes were cut off. They were not monitored as part of the normal security system to keep their existence from potential invaders."

"If that's true, then how did the terrorists know about them and we didn't?" Rogers asked.

"We're working on finding that out. Unfortunately we have bigger problems. After a thorough search, it was determined that the terrorists, who we believe to be a break-off sect of HYDRA, stole a highly experimental nerve agent called Novichok-10."

Natasha nearly broke the armrest off her chair with her good arm. She was familiar with novichok agents. They were created by the Soviets during the 70s and 80s, designed to be undetectable and penetrate all protective gear. Novichok-5 and -7 were supposed to by eight times more powerful than VX, the nerve agent the United States had at the time.

If terrorists, possibly HYDRA, had this newer, improved form of the novichok agents, the whole world was in deep shit, and that was putting it lightly.

"Do we know where they are?" Rogers asked. He might not have known exactly what Novichok-10 was, but he had his fair share of experience with nerve agents.

"Unfortunately we weren't able to capture any of HYDRA's agents. You might remember, Captain, HYDRA's particularly fond of cyanide pills. However, we are interviewing the hostages and as always, keeping our eyes and ears open. Now that we know what we're looking for, it shouldn't take too long for them to show up on our radar."

"Except by then they could've already released the Novichok-10," said Banner.

"Thankfully, not," Fury replied. "They were only able to get a small sample. If they want to do something other than kill a dog or a cat, they're going to have to make more. With that sample, they can, but it will take some time."

"And this is where the Doc and I come in," Stark said, swinging his feet down off the table and standing up with a groan. He'd been moaning and groaning since the mission, during the few times that he was out of his lab. Apparently the Iron Man suit had taken a beating.

"We'll need the formula if we're going to come up with a way to counteract it," Dr. Banner added, also rising.

Fury nodded. "You'll have it. In the meantime, all food and drinks will come through SHIELD. Our notes from the base scientists say the agent can't be transmitted through gas or vapour, it's a powder. Try and limit your time spent outside SHIELD secure facilities. In all likelihood, HYDRA's priority target will be this team."

Natasha looked over at Clint, who seemed to be frowning down at the table. Of the team, he probably spent the most time away from Stark Tower. Natasha knew from Pepper that he and Jacqueline were supposed to go to a show tonight. For some reason, she couldn't really imagine Clint sitting in a play or a musical. The closest approximation she could come to was the mission to Munich when she had attended an opera, Der Freischütz, with a German arms dealer who had been looking to have a friendly night on the town before closing a nuclear weapons deal with the Hezbollah. Of course, Clint hadn't actually been in the opera house. He'd actually been on the roof of a nearby building, watching through his scope. The thought of Clint, perched up high in a Broadway theatre, maybe in the rafters of the stage itself, brought a smile to her face enough that Rogers looked at her with concern. She waved him off, however and left, the meeting adjourned when Stark and Banner had left.

Three days later, she went for a walk, only now she had to confine it to Stark Tower. Granted, there was a lot of space inside Stark Tower, but with monotonous hallways that all looked the same, she couldn't help but feel claustrophobic. It didn't help that she still had her arm in a sling. Clint would be even worse, though at least he didn't have to wear that knee brace anymore. Neither of them liked being confined to a space. At the back of her mind, Natasha knew that it was really her own fault. In all likelihood, she'd been chasing the HYDRA agents who had the Novichok-10. As she climbed up to the very top of Stark Tower to get some fresh air, her mind kept coming back to all the things she'd done wrong, all of the things that she could've done that might've changed the outcome.

It didn't surprise her to find Clint up on the roof. Down below New York spread out all around them as far as the eye could see, the ultimate viewpoint. Clint leaned against the railing as the wind picked at his hair and t-shirt. He wore his glasses, but Natasha knew his eyes would be roving over the city below them, skipping over each person before moving on.

"Hey Tasha," he murmured as she joined him at the rail. "How's the arm?"

Natasha would've shrugged, but she'd quickly learned that it wasn't a good idea with a broken clavicle. "Same," she said shortly.

"Yeah, those are a bitch. Remember—"

"Havana? Yeah. How many floors was it?"

"Four."

"We got lucky there."

"Yeah, got that right."

Natasha followed his gaze outwards. Down below was a line of street vendors, set up for the swarm of newspaper reporters and rabid fans that always seemed to crowd the entrance of Stark Tower these days. Clint seemed to be watching a scuffle between a news crew and one of the vendors, who was blocking their van with his cart.

"Have you talked to her?" Natasha asked.

"This morning. She's disappointed."

"It's part of the job. She'll understand."

"Yeah, I guess. She—"Clint's focus snapped upwards and Natasha followed, immediately on edge by the abrupt change. Up over their heads, dark storm clouds were gathering at a rate that could mean only one thing. Clint and Natasha backed away from the rail just as a bolt of thunder streaked across the sky. They just made it underneath the patio's overhang when another bolt struck the tower itself. When the spots in their vision cleared away, they were welcomed by the sight of a familiar, tall and muscular man.

"My friends," Thor greeted, though his smile fell when he saw the sling around Natasha's shoulder and the fading bruises on Clint's face. "What has happened?"