Hello! I know it's been awhile, but I've been smack in the middle of some serious brainstorming for my Winter Soldier fanfiction, Ghost Story. I was able to squeeze in some writing time and got this chapter finished! This isn't a very long one, but it was very fun to write all the same. I'm planning to go into the minds of Tony, Wanda, and maybe some others in the next few chapters to get some other views on the situation at hand.

Hope you enjoy this installment!

Disclaimer:

I do not own the Avengers movies, the Marvel franchise, or any of the characters. That all belongs to Marvel Studios. Everything to Marvel Studios. Any added dialogue, plots, or characters are mine, but nothing else. I don't own it.

Chapter Twenty - Peanuts And Tears

I'm pretty sure the day that Falcon called me to join the Avengers is the new best day of my life.

I'm…an Avenger. An Avenger. That's… Whew, that's a huge title. At first, I didn't think I could live up to it. But things have been all right so far. I'm been in some meetings, some amazing parties, and gotten to hear a bunch of pretty interesting stories from people who've seen so much more.

For example, Thor. Great storyteller. Who'd have known? Well, I hadn't actually met the guy until that first meeting with the Avengers, but he'd seemed okay. Before the party, I thought he'd be the kind of serious businessman that never laughed no matter how hard you tickled them. Thor, turns out, is actually quite the comedian. If he even gets a word in over Iron Man's egotistic proclamations.

Everything had been incredible.

Then that director of SHIELD, Nick Fury, had busted in with the emergency message.

Here I am, two weeks after that, slumped in a chair amid an empty room. I don't have quarters aside from the guest room, so I don't really have a place to call my own. Iron Man never considered me an Avenger, let alone knew me, so…I guess I'm not really one. Neither do I get a room to myself.

Aside…from…the guest room, of course.

Falcon keeps telling me otherwise. That I am an Avenger.

Really? What have I done for the team? Sure, I fought a few of their members, but have I truly helped in any of the major world disasters that the Avengers have had to deal with?

Nope. Not one.

Still, I'm waiting for my chance. One on one fighting's not really my strong spot, I'd say, more like stealing things and sneaking around. I suppose that should be one of my focus points, given that I can shrink at will.

My phone rattles near my hip, sending buzzes throughout my body. I'm about to sputter a stream of curses before I recognize the name projected on the tiny screen.

Cassie Lang.

Fighting back a sigh, I answer the phone, masking my listless voice with a bright, exciting tone. "Hi, peanut!"

"Daddy!"

My heart jumps at the sound, her speech alight with giggles. "What's up, peanut?"

"When are you coming home from work?"

I stop short, massaging my jaw. "Uh– I'm not– ."

Cassie gasps. "You got caught?"

"No, no! I'm not going to jail again. Don't worry."

"But…"

"Listen, I don't know when I'm coming back. I don't know what they're gonna ask me to do and I need to be here in case something happens. Maybe I can convince Maggie to bring you over sometime and you can see me. I'll introduce you to all of the Avengers!"

"You'll really do that?"

"Of course!"

"When?"

"I'll talk to…someone about it, okay?"

Cassie sighs. "Okay…"

"I'm sorry, peanut. I wish I could come over, but a lot of people would be angry with me if I left without warning."

"I understand. Be a hero for me?"

"Got it. I'll try to make something up to bring you over."

"Hope you can. Bye, Daddy."

"See you, peanut."

The line cuts off and I collapse into the chair. Now Cassie's calling me. Rubbing my hand across my face, I groan. What should I do? This isn't like my house where I can just invite other people over. Cassie wants to see me, but I doubt Iron Man would want a kid running around.

"Doesn't Tony organize the Avengers?"

"He does, but– ."

"So I'm not an official Avenger."

Yeah. I'm not an Avenger. All I did was fight some of them. That doesn't make me one. When will I get a chance to use my abilities for a good cause? My specialty is sneaking around. I haven't been doing any of that. I want some opportunity to prove that I'm not just a tag-along.

Quick, yet heavy, footfalls jerk me from my state of pondering and I glance around. The steps reside from above me on the balcony. Someone's walking. Who? Cautious in my motive as to not be suspected of spying, I begin to pace, wandering ever closer to a view where the balcony and the quarters' doors are in sight. When the position is right, I pivot to note Black Widow skimming the balcony levels with a dutiful stride. Her red hair bounces on her stiff shoulders with every step, her gloved fists trembling at her sides. Puffy eyes rimmed in a tearful redness stare ahead, direct and unmoving. I purse my lips, unable to look away. What had happened to expose the Avenger's commonly-stoic facade to such emotion?

Target acquired.

Within a few minutes, I'm receiving joyous flashbacks as I shrink down to size once more. The thrill of the adventure sweeps me into the mission of my mind and I hop up the steps. I spot Black Widow's solemn, tear-streaked face and all sense of excitement vanishes as I remind myself of the apparent severity at hand. This mission is important to me. It is. Right? Right. No one else may want this info, but I'm going to find out what's happened even if I get stepped on. I slip behind a pole on the railing as Black Widow pounds a clenched hand on Captain America's door. Captain America? What's she want with him?

The door opens after a a brief delay. The captain's formal expression collapses into confusion. "Natasha? What's– ?"

"Just let me in." The assassin pushes her way into the room.

I slide under the door just as it's closing. I have no time to revel in my successful attempt at unsanctioned sneaking before I have to swerve to avoid the side of the famous shield and a pencil resting on the carpet. Breathing deeply, I take a seat behind the leg of a desk, peeking out to observe the pair's faces as they converse.

Black Widow swipes a tear from her cheek. "I'm coming with you to Brooklyn tomorrow. No questions. I'm coming."

"You're trying to volunteer again, aren't you?"

"Do you seriously think I would try to push Bucky's decision off the grid a second time? I don't worry about you that much. I can mask my emotions better than that." She seats herself on the bed, her legs dangling off the mattress.

"Yeah, looks like you're doing a great job of hiding them now." Captain America perches beside her, allowing a few seconds of quiet.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

"Is it Clint?"

Black Widow bites her lip and her eyes well with tears. She nods slowly, her head lowered.

The captain wraps an arm around her shoulders, squeezing. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Black Widow quivers with a shaky exhale, tears rolling down her face. "I always thought… I always thought that-that even while Clint was grieving and not talking to anyone he still knew I was there. I wanted to be the one giving silent encouragement. To help him up, should he fall down, both literally and metaphorically. Clint didn't talk to me. It got me worried, but I continued to look after him, doing everything I could to aid his cause and stand by him. It came to the point that I didn't care if he talked to me or not– I just wanted to know that my friend was in there somewhere. I thought I was doing the right thing, staying with him through all those hours."

"That was the best thing you could've done– what are you talking about?"

Black Widow's body shivers with suppressed sobs. "I've never seen him mad. Not once. Even during battles, he's one of the few Avengers that stay calm in a crisis and– ," a tiny laugh escapes, "has the nerve to crack jokes even in the hardest battles. But…I-I don't even recognize him anymore."

"He was mad at you?"

"He…he lashed out. Backed me against a wall. Probably tore a hole in it."

I watch Captain America's face as he scans Black Widow's.

"What did he say?"

After a pause, the assassin responds. "Clint knows that– because of where I was trained… He knows I'll never have kids. I never thought that he'd use the knowledge against me." More tears flow from her eyes.

Captain America waits for a couple of seconds before rising from the bed. "Grief can make us do a lot of things. Usually things that we regret. That grief can surface as many different emotions. Like anger." Pain shines in his gaze and his brow furrows as if prompted by an agonizing memory.

Black Widow lifts her head, sniffing.

"You know what I'm referring to, Natasha. I know you do."

"What's Tony got to do with this?"

"There's one similarity between Tony's grief back then and Clint's grief now. It's showing itself through anger. Whether that rage is violent or verbal, short-lived or drawn-out, depends on the situation, but Clint's mourning is directed toward the same kind of people. Family."

"Tony never really got over it. Did you see how he shook your hand during the Avengers meeting? He was stiff as a doornail."

"That's not my point. My point is that Tony got through his grief because others were there to support him."

"You're saying I should stay?"

"Natasha, what you do from here on out is completely up to you. You can come with us, or you can stay. What I'm saying is that maybe we all should try to help him. Every once and a while, one of us can sit with him and just talk. Clint probably won't take any advice in his state, but if it'll help, even in the slightest, to share our own experiences with grief, then maybe Clint will wake up."

"This isn't going to be easy, Steve."

"It's not, you're right. Each of us has endured grief in a different way. To offer Clint as many ways of recuperation as we can shouldn't have any hazards. What'd you say?"

"We can try it. But I won't be any help."

"What do you mean?"

"I've…I've never really lost anybody. Not to the extent of severe grief."

"Nick– ."

"Is alive and breathing, Steve. That didn't count."

"But– ."

Black Widow leaps from the bed, gritting her teeth. "I don't know what it feels like to lose family!" She blinks rapidly as her eyes well up again. "Until now." Pushing past Cap, she tromps through the doorway. "What time are you leaving?"

"What?"

"Tomorrow. You and Bucky. When?"

"Noon."

"Good. I'll meet you in the road."

"Natasha…think about what I said, all right?"

Black Widow dips her head, tapping a foot on the ground. "I'll be there."

"Take care, Natasha."

After a few minutes of silence tell me that the conversation is done, I slip out as quietly as I'd come, returning to the guest room and blowing up to normal size.

Wow. Wasn't that intense.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yaaay! I kinda like going into Scott's mind when I actually know what I'm doing. It was hard to write the beginning of this chapter because I wasn't really into it, but then it got better, as you can probably see from the difference in sentence structure and word choice in the middle of the chapter.

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