Your Halo

Steve didn't typically drive his car. Not that it was a bad car; if you lived with Tony Stark, you got the best of everything whether you wanted it or not. But he preferred taking his motorcycle whenever he could. Unfortunately, when it was raining, he had to opt for a car instead.

He switched the radio on, hoping to hear (for once) good music. When he heard a female voice, he almost switched it back off; he didn't like most of the pop stars he heard on the radio. Then he paused.

"Remember those walls I built?
Well, baby, they're tumbling down.
They didn't even put up a fight,
They didn't even make a sound.
I found a way to let you in,
But I never really had a doubt:
Standing in the light of your halo,
I got my angel now."

He smiled a little. The song reminded him of Nat. Lately she'd been opening up more, tentatively sharing things with him about her past and her emotions. It almost made him nervous, because as glad as he was that she was telling him about herself, he was also terrified of saying the wrong thing, or not saying the right thing, or just generally reacting badly.

Most recently, after describing more about the Red Room and what had been done to her, she had disappeared for a week.

Clint knew where she went, but he wouldn't admit it until Sunday.

…

"I'm sorry, Steve. I thought she'd be back by now. She's at my place with Laura."

Not five minutes later, Steve took a quinjet and flew to Clint's secret family farm. It was hard, not knowing if Natasha wanted him there or not. He thought she'd run because she was ashamed and protecting herself, but he was a little afraid it was because she thought it had been a mistake to trust him.

When he got up to the house, a golden lab came charging out of the house barking and wagging its tail, and Steve really wished he'd been able to avoid all that fanfare. He dodged the animal's excited overtures and made his way up onto the porch, stuffing his hands in his pockets, then thinking better of it and starting to pull them back out, then giving up and leaving them half in as the door opened.

Laura smiled genuinely at him. "Hey Steve. I knew you'd be coming. Why don't you step inside? Natasha is upstairs showering."

Steve smiled sheepishly. "Thanks." The dog followed himself inside, tail wagging. "Who's this?" he asked, mainly to distract himself.

"Lucky, say hi to Captain Rogers." Laura gestured to the couch and sat down on a rocking chair; Steve took the indicated seat. He wasn't sure whether to stretch his legs out or not, so he ended up with his knees bent at an uncomfortable angle.

The Labrador trotted over to Steve, sat down, and lifted a paw which Steve shook politely. "He's nice."

"Yeah." Laura hesitated, then said more quietly, "I told her you would come. She didn't believe me, or at least didn't want to."

"Didn't want to?" Steve's heart plummeted to his stomach. She didn't want him there. This had been a mistake, as usual-

Laura sighed. "She's very confused, Captain Rogers. It's not that she didn't want you to come here, it's that she was afraid you wouldn't so she tried to convince herself she didn't think you would. She doesn't talk much about her past and when she does she gets very... dare I say skittish." She was looking at Steve as if evaluating him, waiting for a proper reaction.

"I..." Steve stopped, stroking Lucky's ears nervously. "I know. I don't think I can blame her. There are things that aren't easy for me to talk about and they aren't nearly as bad as what's happened to her."

Laura nodded slowly. They sat in silence for a few more minutes, and Steve focused on scratching Lucky behind the ears just right so the dog's hind leg thumped up and down like a drummer keeping a fast rhythm.

His serum-enhanced ears picked up the soft sound of Natasha walking down the stairs before he could see her, and he stiffened, hand still stroking the top of Lucky's head. What if he screwed this up?

When Nat first saw him, halfway down the stairs, she faltered a moment before continuing, her expression marble.

"Hey Nat," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. It didn't quite work; his voice came out as a hoarse croak. He cleared his throat as unobtrusively as possible and repeated himself. He noticed Laura getting up and quietly walking away, and almost asked her to stay.

"Rogers." Nat managed an unconvincing smile. "Clint told you I was here?"

"Yeah." Steve rubbed his hands on his knees, suddenly realizing how ridiculous he must look with his legs bent at an 80 degree angle and dog fur on his jeans. "We were worried. I mean, everyone but Clint because - well, he was too, but I mean... I..." He stopped, swore under his breath, and pressed one hand to his forehead with a groan. "Sorry."

Natasha chuckled. It was a weak sound and short, but Steve felt a bit better then. With an awkward sigh he stood and tucked his hands securely in his pockets.

"You scared me," he said, more quietly and slowly. "Natasha... You just left and I didn't know what to think."

She looked down and nodded. "I know."

"Why?" He resisted the urge to reach out and caress her cheek like he wanted to. "Why did you leave?"

"Because, Steve." She sighed and ran a hand through her wet curls. "People like you... You're clean still. Somehow. And I went and told you everything I've done. And that's the part where you realize you can't possibly be friends with a woman like me and you want an excuse to back out, and so I gave you one."

Steve frowned sadly, unsure how to respond. He wanted to shake sense into her, he wanted to hug her, he wanted to show her in every way he knew how that he wasn't leaving. But instead of any of that he stepped a little closer to her and, looking her straight in the eye, said gently, "I'm not backing out."

She flinched and looked down. "You have a sense of duty, I get that, Steve, but I-"

"No." This he could do, this he was good at. Being stubborn. "To hell with duty, Natasha. Listen to me. My best friend is a brainwashed Soviet assassin who doesn't even remember who he is and has more kills on his record than you do, for God's sake. You were raised to kill and that isn't your fault, and it isn't dirty, and it'd be a Godawful reason for me to give up on you."

"Language, Rogers," Natasha said snarkily, but Steve thought he saw hope in her jungle-green eyes before she looked away.

He rolled his eyes at her and kept talking. "Seriously, Nat. Look at me."

She frowned but looked up. He made himself hold her gaze without flinching, although he was a little frightened that what she saw in his own eyes would betray him.

"I'm not in the habit of giving up on anyone or anything and I'm not going to start now. You're a beautiful, powerful, kind woman and I'm privileged to have you for a friend. Please come back with me. Everyone misses you and we need you. Tony's been unbearable for the last few days." He smiled, trying to tell her with his expression that he meant every word. Please listen to me. Please come home.

Natasha's eyes scanned his face, then she slumped a little and looked down, arms going around her middle as if she felt sick. "I'm sorry."

Steve's heart thudded painfully in his chest.

"I'm sorry I did this to you all, I don't know what I expected but I… thank you." She sounded exhausted, and Steve let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"It's okay. I think I understand." She nodded, and she looked so small and alone standing there that Steve reached out and, tentatively, put his hands on his shoulders and tugged her close to him. "Here." She hesitated, then closed the remaining distance, her head falling against his chest and her eyes drifting closed. He held her as gently as he knew how and sighed. Thank God he hadn't ruined everything, for once.

"Okay, let go of me, you big baby," Natasha mumbled into his shirt, and he snorted, half-embarrassed and half-amused, and stepped back.

"Sorry."

"It's fine." She smiled. "Why don't we go tell the kids I'm leaving? I expect you to be the one to break it to them."

Steve groaned, laughing. "No, that's not fair!"

"It's your fault I'm leaving, Captain America. Suck it up."

…

Steve pulled his car into its parking space and turned the key, shutting off the engine and leaving him with only the sound of the rain hitting the windows to keep him company. How fast, he wondered, could run inside to the coffee shop?

The answer turned out to be pretty damn fast.

He flung the door open, laughing a little with the exhilaration of his speed and the chilly rain, and skidded to a stop. He was embarrassed for a moment as all eyes turned to him, but he pushed the feeling away.

Thankfully there wasn't much of a line. "One tall white chocolate mocha with extra whipped cream," he said "and one grande cherry frappuccino, light ice and extra whipped cream. Thanks."

The barista smiled and entered his order, he paid, and five minutes later charged back outside with the drinks, running as fast as he dared with the drinks in hand.

He had a movie night to get to and Natasha wanted her coffee.

A/N: This prompt took me foreeeever and I'm so sorry. It's a Tumblr prompt from my friend agirlwithwinter and for whatever reason I just didn't know how to write it. She wanted me to write Steve hearing "Halo" on the radio and it reminding him of Natasha. I finally got it done, geesh.

Please review, and thanks for reading!