Alternate Universe: Maggie is being raised by Natasha alone, with the help of the Avengers and Pepper, after Steve died.
Natasha suppressed a shiver as she brushed snow off her jacket, sighing contently at the newly found warmth of the Avengers Tower.
It was an especially snowy winter that year in Manhattan, which used to mean nothing to her. But, now, she had someone in her life who loved that weather, and saw it as a fun way to play outside, and Natasha had to admit: the childlike appreciation of the white fluff was pretty contagious.
As she stepped into the elevator alone, she tried to limit the amount of snow she was leaving on the floor. Tony probably wouldn't appreciate having puddles of icy water in his elevator, and Natasha didn't want to push it as a guest in his property.
Though, he had argued with her for years now that she wasn't just a 'guest' anymore - she was family. Everyone who stayed in that tower was family.
She believed that, to a certain extent, but it always brought her sorrow as well. Yes, they were all a family now, but nothing could ever heal the pain of losing a family member.
"Good evening, Agent Romanoff. Which floor would you like to go to?"
"The communal floor, please, JARVIS," Natasha replied as the doors closed, leaning against the wall tiredly.
A mission at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Avengers Facility had forced her to face the snow outside, on her own. She had gone with Clint Barton, her partner, who offered to stay behind and deal with the debriefing by himself so she could get home to her snow-loving daughter.
In a way, Natasha didn't really feel at 'home' in the Tower. It just made her think of the team of superheroes, 'Earth's Mightiest Heroes' they had dared to call themselves - her team.
Once upon a time, the leader had chosen her as his second-in-command. It had been an impulsive decision made verbally, just to get rid of a squabbling Tony Stark and Thor, who were arguing over who would be more fit to lead the team between the two of them. It hadn't been a serious fight, just friendly and humorous bickering, which Steve had put an end to by casually declaring Natasha the next most fit to lead the team.
(And, yeah, he may have had some not-so-subtle feelings for her that had yet to be addressed at the time, but he also knew she was the most level-headed and in control out of the group of misfits, even more so than himself on many occasions.)
But, it had been a passing joke, and no one ever thought it would have to come true.
The elevator doors opened on the requested floor, revealing an empty living room. Curiously, Natasha stepped out, immediately discarding her snow-covered jacket and hat on a nearby chair, and looked around.
Before she could call for anyone, Pepper wandered into the room, her eyes traveling the space. She stopped as she caught sight of Natasha's cold form, and quickly turned to her with a welcoming smile.
"Welcome home, Natasha," she said amicably, walking up to the spy and greeting her with a warm hug. "How was your mission?"
Natasha appreciated Pepper's compassion and embrace for a moment, before releasing the CEO and wearing a similar happy expression. "Cold. Long. Boring. As can be expected."
Pepper gave a light laugh at the answer. "Not surprising. I'm just glad you were able to make it back through all of the snow."
"Yeah, it was pretty tough, but I made my way," Natasha answered with a sigh. "How is she today?"
The smile on Pepper's face tightened just a bit at the question, her expression transitioning from joyful to sympathetic. Natasha chose to ignore it. "She's good; no change. Bruce says that's best, considering her condition."
The redheaded mother nodded. "Thank you for looking after her, just like always, really-"
Pepper cut her off with a wave of her hand. "Nonsense, Natasha, there's no reason for you to be thanking me. I love spending time with her."
Natasha's smile grew a little sadder at that. "It's harder now," she pointed out, knowing that caring for a sick child was hardly an easy task. She knew from firsthand experience.
"It isn't anything we haven't all dealt with before," Pepper countered, because that was also true. Maggie always got sick for extended periods of time in the winters; it was just something they dealt with. "Thank God for modern medicine, if this is what life was like for Steve in his childhood."
Bringing up the fallen Avenger in casual conversation was always risky with Natasha, because everyone knew that she was easily the most affected by his death (and rightfully so). Maggie was only a baby at the time, when Ultron struck. Tony and Bruce still hadn't forgiven themselves for it, despite everyone's, including Natasha's, protests.
The pain of Steve's death had never left Natasha, and only resided in her a little bit more each time she looked at their daughter. But, at the same time, thinking of Steve every time she looked at Maggie made things a little brighter, because Steve had managed to give Natasha something so precious before leaving.
"What a time to be alive," Natasha remarked dryly, though there was a spark of humor in her eyes that let Pepper know she was okay with the allusion to the soldier. "I'm going to go see her now."
Pepper nodded, patting the spy on the shoulder, and stepping out of the way. "Thor's with her, sharing some grand stories about Asgard, I'm sure. Just the usual."
"Probably," Natasha gave a small smirk, looking back at the woman before turning down the nearby hall of bedrooms.
"And, suddenly, a bilge snipe jumped out at Lady Sif and I, roaring fiercely. Its horns were humongous, its teeth razor-sharp and skin scaly. I braced myself to be attacked, but, Lady Sif quickly intercepted before the creature could reach me, and she fought the large beast off herself."
Thor was gesturing wildly with his hands, emphasizing all sorts of things in his story. Maggie was watching him, mouth partially open, expression invested, and eyes wide. His stories always seemed to have some awestruck and stupefying effect on her, much to everyone else's amusement.
"Really?" Maggie asked, looking up at Thor, amazed. "Siffy beat him by herself?"
"Aye, she is one of the finest and mightiest warriors Asgard has ever seen," Thor answered, his voice taking on a similarly amazed tone as Maggie's. Natasha smiled from where she silently watched in the doorway, enjoying the sight of a lively Maggie.
Even then, the five year old didn't look incredibly alert and energetic at the moment. She looked exhausted, with her eyes bearing a sleepy heaviness and the movements of the rest of her body sluggish. Her cheeks were flushed in a deep red shade, as Natasha could only imagine the skin was hot to the touch.
Maggie made some sort of amazed sound, her smile widening. "I wanna be strong like Siffy one day."
Thor chuckled deeply, his own smile growing as he gently brushed a few strands of red hair out of Maggie's face. "There is no doubt in my mind you will achieve that goal some day, Lady Margaret. You already are strong, just like her."
"Even though I can't fight or beat monsters?" Maggie blinked, her expression now questioning and curious.
"Being strong isn't about fighting; it is about being brave, and being a virtuous person," Thor assured her softly, his usual roaring voice now a quieted rumble. "You are well on your way to becoming a fine warrior."
Maggie looked thrilled once more, and Natasha decided now would be a good time to interrupt. She tapped her knuckles against the door frame lightly. "Knock, knock."
The way Maggie's face lit up at the sight of the spy - really, Natasha had never felt so much love before, just by one glance. Even in the love she shared with Steve, no one could ever rival the pure affection on Maggie's face when she saw her mother.
"Who's there?" Maggie asked excitedly, sitting up just a little more in her bed. Thor had also turned toward the newcomer, his expression as welcoming as Pepper's minutes before.
"Cow says," Natasha answered, walking through the doorway and up to the bed.
This was their trademarked ritual that signified Natasha's homecoming - every time the spy returned home from a mission, she was to come with a new joke, preferably in 'knock, knock' format, to offer to Maggie. It amused both redheads, namely Maggie because she was already giggly by default. For Natasha, making her daughter smile and laugh was enough to make everything worth it.
"'Cow says,' who?" Maggie echoed without hesitation, watching Natasha come up and sit on the side of the bed, opposite of Thor's spot.
"No, silly, a cow says, 'Moooo!'" Natasha delivered, lightly poking the ticklish spots on Maggie's belly for an added effect.
And, just as Natasha had been hoping for, Maggie broke into a fit of laughter, both from the joke and the tickling. Suddenly, Natasha's day had gotten a million times better.
"I know that already, Mama!" Maggie protested through her laughter, which was echoed by the soft chuckles coming from Thor.
"Oh, you do?" Natasha played along, looking and sounding like this was news to her. "I thought you never learned what sounds the different animals make. I'm pretty sure when I asked you what a pig says last week, you told me, 'Baa!'"
Natasha's sheep impression only made Maggie laugh more, which made Natasha's day a billion times better.
"No, I didn't! You have bad memory," Maggie insisted, making Natasha giggle a little bit along with her.
"I guess I do, huh?" Natasha sighed in agreement, feeling nothing but warmth in that moment. She could only feel love, pure and true, for her daughter during times like these; it was almost like the rest of the world no longer existed, in all its heartbreak and suffering.
Thor stood from the bed, allowing Natasha room to surprise Maggie with a sudden hug. It only added to the giggles spilling from the girl's mouth, as she wrapped her arms around Natasha's neck and smiled against her shoulder.
"I must leave for a short while, Lady Margaret, but I will be back later." Thor offered a farewell wave with his hand. He wanted to give mother and daughter some privacy and core bonding time, since it could come very rarely.
Maggie waved her hand behind Natasha's back as he exited the room. The spy ran a hand through Maggie's bed-head mess of red curls, and the other a hand up and down her back. Sometimes, she still couldn't believe what had started as a blob in her womb had become an actual physical thing - well, person - she could touch and feel and actually interact with.
"I missed you," Maggie said against the leather of Natasha's uniform, which was probably freezing to the touch. Natasha probably should have changed before coming to greet Maggie, but she just couldn't wait.
"I missed you, too," Natasha confessed quietly, finally pulling back enough to meet Maggie's eyes. They were a soft blue, just like Steve's, and always full of energy and questions, even when she was sick like she was now. "How are you feeling?"
"I feel fine," Maggie insisted as proudly and confident as ever, which Natasha resisted the urge to roll her eyes at. Considering the fact that this statement was followed by a coughing fit pretty much spoke for itself.
Natasha leaned away just to reach for the glass of water sitting on the nightstand beside them, and then offered it to Maggie when she stopped wheezing. The sound used to terrify Natasha, as she feared what that meant for the state of Maggie's lungs, but she had since grown used to it. While she was leaning over to grab the water, she made sure to pinpoint the location of Maggie's inhaler on the otherwise messy surface of the nightstand, just in case.
"Drink up, Лапушка," she advised softly, her hands ready to intercept if Maggie suddenly dropped the glass she had so proudly grabbed from Natasha and drank from, as she was determined to prove she was capable of taking care of herself.
As amusing as it was, it always made Natasha's heart ache a little, as she wished someone had taught her long ago that it was okay to depend on someone when you need to; she didn't learn that until she had met the Avengers. "The water is good for your throat."
Maggie drank the water obediently, and seemed worn out by the time she was done. Natasha gently took the glass from her grasp, setting it back down with a soft thud. When she turned back to Maggie, the five year old was wiping her eyes, exhaustion evident in her expression. Natasha's heart hurt a bit at the sight.
"Have you eaten dinner yet, Лапушка?"
"I'm not hungry." Maggie shook her head.
Natasha frowned. "That's no good, Maggie. You need to eat something."
"Don't wanna," Maggie whined pitifully, and Natasha sighed.
She thought for a moment. "If I get food, will you eat some of mine? Please, for me?"
That usually got Maggie to do something - knowing she would be doing it for her mother. Fortunately, it worked this time as well, as Maggie nodded half-heartedly.
This was Natasha's life now - bargaining with her daughter for every meal, keeping her company all day long, helping her through the constant long bouts of sickness. Steve had worried long ago that Maggie may inherit his weak and sickly body instead of his super soldier one, but Natasha had reassured him that wouldn't happen. However, after Steve's death, it became apparent that she had been wrong, and Maggie had a growing laundry list of complications in her body just as Steve had in his childhood.
The winters were the worst, the cold weather always giving her fevers and flu-like symptoms. Maggie usually lost a few weeks to sickness here and there in the years before, which still allowed her a good amount of healthy days in which she could play outside, in the snow. However, this year, she had been sick ever since the start of December, with seemingly no end in sight.
Natasha clenched her fists as she gathered food from the kitchen for herself and Maggie, after having finally changed out of her uniform. Maggie hadn't even been able to attend school for over a month now, and Natasha had no idea when she'd be able to go back.
It wasn't fair; Maggie didn't deserve this kind of life. Steve hadn't, either. Perhaps Natasha did, and that's why she had to watch Maggie suffer - karma could be a bitch like that.
As she walked by the chair with her wet jacket and hat still thrown on it, Natasha paused, seeing the envelope poking out of one of the pockets. She sighed, wondering when she'd be able to do it - when she'd be able to hand in the letter to Fury, to get out of her busy agent life, so she could be home all the time for Maggie. Of course, she'd also have to give up leading the Avengers, too, but she could deal with that with the team themselves later.
Fury would hate to see her leave, as would Maria and Phil, and Natasha knew that wasn't just because she was one of their top agents. While it was true that she was, she knew that they also would simply miss seeing her as often as they did, as she knew she would miss them, too.
They'd already cut back on her missions a lot, trying to give her some sort of balance between parenting and working. It was hard, though, since she was by herself. Luckily, she had the rest of the Avengers, plus Pepper, to help her out with the parenting, since it was so difficult alone. At first, she tried to turn them away from helping her as much as they did now, but she quickly realized there was nothing wrong with having a little assistance in caring for a toddler. Maggie had only been a little over a year old when the Avengers fought Ultron, and she was definitely already an energetic handful by then, barely able to be tamed by both Steve and Natasha.
As expected, Maggie didn't remember anything of Steve, either. She knew his face and voice from pictures and videos, and his history and personality through many bedtime stories, but that was it. Natasha was always saddened by the fact that Maggie could never truly know her father, and the wonderful man he was.
When Natasha returned to Maggie's room, the girl gave her a weak, tired smile, all of her energy spent from Natasha's homecoming and ritualistic knock-knock joke. Natasha gave her a warm and compassionate smile in return.
"I heated up some dino nuggets," Natasha explained as she sat down, placing the plate on the covers between herself and Maggie. "They're still pretty hot, but they'll cool down soon enough. First, though, you need to take your next dose of medicine."
Maggie used to protest the medicine, but she had long grown used to it. If she were being honest with herself, it actually made Natasha more sad than relieved that the typical 'child refusing to take medicine' ritual had faded with Maggie. It meant that Maggie had been sick enough to take medicine frequently, and thus not be bothered by the taste anymore, which was too mature for her age, Natasha felt.
Natasha watched Maggie gulp down all of the liquid Tylenol in one quick sip, before immediately reaching for water. With a small, amused smile, Natasha retrieved the glass for the five year old and passed it to her.
As Maggie drank the transparent liquid to rid her mouth of the taste of medicine - "The fruit flavor thing is a lie," she had once declared to Natasha, who didn't dare argue - Natasha poked the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets. Determining they were cooled down enough, she picked one up and took a bite, hoping it would encourage Maggie to do the same.
Maggie looked as if she were going to verbally protest to eating for a moment, but thought better of it, and was soon nibbling on a pterodactyl. Natasha smiled behind her own tyrannosaurus rex, marveling in the small victory she had accomplished.
After Maggie had eaten a few nuggets, Natasha decided to engage her in conversation. "So, did you have fun with Aunt Pepper and Uncle Thor while I was gone?"
Still eating yet another pterodactyl (those ones were her favorite, and Natasha had no idea why), Maggie nodded thoughtfully. "They told me lots of stories."
"That's exciting," Natasha beamed, aiming to keep the mood happy and the conversation interesting. "What kinds of stories did they tell you?"
"Uncle Thor talked a lot about Asgard. Auntie Pep talked about Uncle Tony," Maggie shrugged in reply, as if the answer was self-explanatory. "They also talked about you."
"Me?" Natasha raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Yeah, lots of Avengers stories," Maggie elaborated cheerfully, "with Daddy."
Of course, Natasha thought with a bittersweet smile. Those were Maggie's favorite kind.
"I'm glad they told you, Лапушка. Were they good stories?"
"They were funny and cool," Maggie paused, her face scrunching up thoughtfully in an expression that always reminded Natasha of Steve. She knew that Maggie was about to change topics.
"Mama, I have a question."
Maggie had this habit of starting her questions by declaring that the inquiries existed within her already. It was kind of cute, and pretty funny, to Natasha.
"What is it?"
"When are we going home?"
Home. The word caused Natasha's throat to swell just a little bit. Earlier, she had been mentally criticizing the fact that the Avengers Tower was not 'home' to her, since that personal location existed elsewhere. And that elsewhere had come to Natasha in the form of a small house just outside of Washington D.C., that she had moved into with Steve years and years ago.
It was where they were going to live for the rest of their lives together. Where they were going to raise Maggie. Together.
Honestly, after Steve's death, Natasha tried to spend as little time as possible there, not wanting to remember him every time she simply, well, had her eyes open. Every inch of the house reminded her of him, everything that she could detect with her five human senses just screamed Steven Grant Rogers, and the love they had shared.
When it was time for Maggie to start school, Natasha gradually moved the girl into the Avengers Tower in New York, wanting to finally leave the old house for good. She couldn't just let it go, either, though, so it was still in her possession to this day, just relatively untouched. Maggie started school in Manhattan, anyway, and the presence of the Avengers in the city just made raising her a little bit easier.
Maggie didn't want to move out. She cried and protested until she had no fight left within her, and Natasha was torn. Of course she wanted Maggie to be happy and feel at home, but Steve should be living in that house with them.
So, they had reached a compromise by Natasha assuring Maggie the move would only be temporary. This wasn't too much of a lie, since Natasha planned on visiting the old house every now and then to keep it in moderate condition, but it wasn't very honest, either. Maggie begrudgingly accepted the deal, as she wanted to stay in the house for the same reason Natasha wanted to leave: Steve.
"I don't know, Лапушка," Natasha finally answered earnestly, her expression sympathetic. "You're still supposed to be in school right now, and you're too sick to travel."
"I wanna get better at home," Maggie insisted, her voice dangerously close to another pitiful whine. "I miss home."
Natasha sighed, watching as Maggie gently played with the hems of the blankets in her lap. She wanted to do everything for Maggie, and would do anything in her power she could do to grant wishes - but this?
This would be the largest personal sacrifice she'd have to make.
"Why don't you like it here, in New York?" Natasha asked, genuinely curious. "For one thing, the rest of the Avengers all live here, like Uncle Clint and Uncle Tony, plus Aunt Pepper."
Maggie shook her head with a noise of disagreement. "The Avengers don't all live here. Daddy doesn't."
Natasha's expression grew sadder at that. "He doesn't live in our house either, hon."
"He's closer there than here," Maggie countered stubbornly, now fumbling with the sleeve of her pajama shirt.
Natasha had known that Maggie loved their house for its sense of Steve's lingering presence. So, the move to New York had been the one selfish decision she had made as a parent - the only one. Why couldn't she have just one?
When Steve died, Natasha stayed. On the nights when Maggie would do nothing but cry, Natasha stayed. Even though she was still a full-time S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and Avenger, Natasha stayed.
Hell, she was even about to give up that huge aspect of her life - her work. She was willing to cast S.H.I.E.L.D., the Avengers, and all of its people aside, just for Maggie. That was huge.
So, then, why did she have to take Maggie back to the house, which had become something of a personal hell of 'what should have been's and regrets?
"Maggie, I'm sorry, I really am," Natasha said sympathetically. "But we can't just go back home right now."
The disappointment on Maggie's face broke Natasha's heart. The girl looked like she immediately regretted her request, and the spy mentally kicked herself. She hadn't meant to make Maggie feel bad, and now Natasha also felt bad.
This was their life now: bargaining for meals, keeping each other company through sickness, and coping with the loss of the mutual man in their lives in strikingly contrasting ways.
When Natasha finally handed the form into Fury the following week, he simply glanced over it for a moment, and then sighed. Natasha's expression didn't change mostly, save for the way her eyes briefly reflected her sorrow and remorse as she blinked.
"I really hate to see you go, Romanoff," he commented, setting the paper down on his desk gently. "Who's going to keep Barton in line for us now?"
Despite the melancholy air surrounding her, Natasha gave a smirk at his comment. "I'm sure Hill can; she just has to know how to bribe him."
Fury made some sort of amused sound, before standing up and reaching his hand out across the table. Natasha blinked, caught off guard for a moment, before meeting his offered appendage with one of her own.
"It's been an honor working with you, Agent Romanoff," he stated formally and diplomatically, giving her hand a firm shake. "I hope to see you back someday."
Retracting her hand, Natasha nodded. "I hope so, too. Maybe I'll still be able to help out the Avengers during major world crises."
"Maybe," Fury murmured, walking around his desk and stopping beside Natasha, now much closer to her. Natasha could see the slight hint of emotion in his eye, the sympathy and concern he felt both for her and Maggie. "This was a hard decision, Natasha, but I think you made the correct choice."
The genuineness in his voice caught Natasha off guard much more than the handshake. She also let her resolve slip a bit, allowing herself to be vulnerable for a moment. "How do you know?"
"What Maggie needs right now, and what she may need for a while, is her mother," Fury explained, his voice completely earnest. "She doesn't need S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Romanoff or the Black Widow to get through this; she needs Natasha, her mother."
"Yeah, well, she also needs her father," Natasha couldn't help but comment dryly, her bitter tone revealing the underlying, raw emotion she was feeling at the thought.
Fury simply blinked, his expression unchanging. "Perhaps. But, that doesn't change the fact that this will be good for her, despite how much she may protest."
Natasha's heart sank a little at Fury's words; she hadn't thought about that. Would Maggie be disappointed that her mother had given up avenging and working just for her?
"Just remember that underneath all that, nothing could be better for her than having you with her all the time," Fury advised. "She won't have to miss you anymore, or worry for your safety."
Once again, Fury had a point, this time being one that Natasha would rather focus on. She nodded quietly, not trusting her voice to hide her sudden emotions. S.H.I.E.L.D. had been her life for so long, field work even more so. She was now giving it up for an indefinite amount of time, giving up the feeling of adrenaline as she took down a target, giving up the rush and heat of the battle, giving up the satisfaction of a mission accomplished.
It was almost as if Fury could sense this sudden sensation within Natasha, as next thing the spy knew, there were arms wrapped around her. Nick Fury was giving her a hug.
The embrace was a surprise at first, but Natasha quickly got over it, and returned the hug. It made sense - just as Natasha and the Avengers were family now, so were she and all of her close friends at S.H.I.E.L.D. Maggie addressed them as such, so, really, it was only natural.
As he released her, with one hand remaining on her shoulder, Fury gave her a firm and professional nod, all evidence of his sudden compassion gone from his expression. Soon, his hand was also absent from her shoulder, and he looked the same as normal.
"I'll make sure to visit as much as I can; Maggie also needs her Uncle Nick," he gave a dry hint of a smile, and Natasha couldn't help the small, happy laugh that escaped her lips.
Maggie persisted about the house for days, never letting it leave Natasha's mind. She really, really wanted to return home, and Natasha was, once again, torn. The one decision she had made for herself in the span of the almost six years she'd had Maggie was starting to blow up in Natasha's face.
And Natasha was starting to feel the crumbling of her resolve as Maggie asked, and asked, and asked. The girl constantly brought up feeling closer to her father when at the house, and how maybe that feeling would help her get better soon. Plus, she had somehow managed to point out, this winter was her first spent solely in New York, so there was no guarantee she'd be able to recover there (Natasha didn't have anything to say to that because, how does a five year old even make that connection?).
"Mama, why don't you work anymore?"
The question had come out of nowhere, about a week after Natasha's meeting with Fury. Natasha herself had been in the middle of folding clean laundry when Maggie suddenly inquired about Natasha's sudden lack of missions and S.H.I.E.L.D. files to read.
She couldn't help but chuckle at Maggie's perceptiveness. "You noticed?"
"You don't read all the time anymore," Maggie explained simply, "and you don't get called a lot by Uncle Phil or Aunt Ria."
"You are too smart for your own good sometimes, Лапушка," Natasha sighed to herself, before setting down the shirt she had been folding to hold a real conversation with Maggie. "You're right, though; I don't work anymore."
"Why?"
"I wanted to stay home with you," Natasha explained, wondering how this would go over for the girl. "I felt like we didn't get to spend a lot of time together when I was working all the time. So, I stopped working last week; I already talked to Uncle Nick about it."
Maggie didn't say anything immediately, as she comprehended the information Natasha was offering her. "You're not a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent anymore?"
Natasha shook her head. "Not anymore. I don't have any missions."
"What about… Are you still an Avenger?"
That was the question Natasha had also been asking herself since she had 'resigned.' She had already talked to the rest of the team about it, and they were supportive of her decision. They then decided it would be best for Natasha to step down from the leadership role, leaving it to Tony, which was bound to be interesting. Though, if she were being honest with herself, Natasha believed Tony would be able to pull it off, of course with some inevitable rough patches here and there.
She was still an Avenger in their eyes, though. Once an Avenger, always an Avenger, Clint had argued, and was agreed with by the rest of the group. Natasha wondered how she had managed to make so many great friends.
"I am," Natasha answered confidently, offering Maggie a small, warm smile. "I just won't help them as much; I'll probably only get back in if there is a really tough bad guy, where the whole world is in danger."
Maggie frowned a bit. "I want you to be an agent and an Avenger still."
"When you get better, I might be able to go back to being both of those," Natasha offered. "But, for now, I just want to take care of you, so you can get better faster."
She had a feeling Maggie would use that as a tool to transition into her now typical request. "Then, we should go home!"
Natasha wasn't sure how much longer she could fight Maggie on this. The girl was as stubborn as her father, that was for sure.
"If we went home," Natasha began, hoping one last effort may squash Maggie's fighting spirit on the issue, "what will we do when you get better? Your school is here, in New York, so how would you go to school?"
"New school," Maggie answered without hesitation.
"Don't you like your school?" Natasha questioned, concerned, but Maggie simply shook her head with a shrug of her shoulders.
"They were kinda mean," she insisted, and Natasha held back a sigh. Sure, there had been some incidents with bullying and teasing and just general kindergarten mayhem during the fall, but nothing that should completely drive Maggie away from the school. "I wanna go home more."
Picking up the next shirt to fold and resuming her chores, Natasha continued her interrogation. "You won't get to see Aunt Pepper or Uncle Clint or any of them all the time anymore. Won't you miss them?"
"I miss you more," Maggie answered quietly instead, and Natasha paused her folding to look at the child with a curious expression.
"I'm right here with you, Лапушка."
"I mean, I miss being alone with you." Oh.
That actually made sense. Natasha had still been a full-time S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and Avenger for most of Maggie's life. That meant Maggie had practically spent half of her life with other people, and not her mother, basically.
It was a sobering thought, and suddenly Natasha truly had no regrets about her decision to resign.
"That's why I stopped working, honey," she explained, looking at Maggie sympathetically, "so we could be together more."
"But I miss being only with you," Maggie countered, and Natasha wondered if the sentiment was actually true, or just another ploy to push Natasha toward moving back into the Washington, D.C. house.
Knowing Maggie, it was definitely the former; she didn't play manipulative games like the latter.
She inherited that emotional integrity from her father, Natasha decided.
Natasha gave her a gentle smile. "Well, now that I don't have missions, I'll be with you more, so I won't have to miss you, and you won't have to miss me."
It appeared that new development would suffice for now, as Maggie gave a little nod, and didn't pursue returning home any further that day.
"Natasha, I think it's time to listen to Maggie."
The spy looked up at Bruce's sudden suggestion, her own expression curious and a bit confused. They were sitting at the dining table, watching the morning snow drift outside over some coffee. Natasha wasn't the biggest morning person in the world, but Maggie tended to get up at spastic times because of her sick condition, so the former preferred to be up and ready at all times.
And, now that she wasn't working, she had the full ability to do that, and it felt really great; she didn't have to feel guilty about not being around anymore.
Natasha blinked, trying to decipher Bruce's words in her mind, but still wanting a verbal explanation and confirmation. "Listen to her about what?"
"Going home," Bruce advised, leaning back in his chair, exhaustion clear in his features. Natasha frowned at this, knowing that was mostly due to his insistence, similar to hers, in being available to aid Maggie at all times of day and night.
"Though a lot of it is sentimentality, there have been countless instances where a person's recovery was hindered due to mental stress. Unfamiliar or uncomfortable environments can really add to that. Sure, Maggie is comfortable here with everyone, but she's awfully outnumbered by doting parental figures, don't you think?"
His words came off a bit weirdly to Natasha at first, but within a few moments, she found herself seeing the truth in them. She hadn't thought about Maggie being overwhelmed by all the adults around, hovering over her, literally, all the time - she had just assumed that the revolving doors of Avengers Tower, with everyone being so busy and constantly off working or present at home, it wasn't a big deal.
But, the more she thought about it, the more the opposite sounded true to Natasha. Maggie had a lot of people to worry over all the time. She saw everyone off, and welcomed each of them home, countless times throughout her time at the tower. She witnessed every traumatic homecoming, each Avenger stumbling through the doors half-alive, each of her relatives suffering from haunted memories being pulled back to the surface, everyone's pain. And, for someone as empathetic as Maggie, which Natasha had quickly figured out due to Maggie's flexible personality, that could be disastrous. Overall, it wasn't the most stable environment for a sick child to live and recover in.
So, maybe Bruce did have a point, and maybe it was time to retreat from this crowded way of life for a bit.
She thought all of these things quietly, turning Bruce's words and argument over and over in her head. Bruce seemed to know this, as he simply sat in silence, allowing her the time to process and re-think things.
Then, he spoke once more, about a minute later. "I'm not trying to tell you how to be a parent, Natasha; you're a great mother, one of the best I've seen, I promise." Bruce's voice was soft and gentle, but not condescending; Natasha appreciated that. "I know Maggie's been asking for a while, and, well… I think it might be time to try granting her request."
Natasha laid the tips of her fingers against the warm mug of coffee sitting in front of her, briefly comparing the hot temperature of the ceramic to that of Maggie's forehead, as she had felt it many times - the lack of significant difference in temperature unnerved her, just a bit.
"I've been telling her that she's too sick to travel," Natasha finally confessed with a sad, self-admitting smirk, before raising her emerald eyes to meet Bruce's. "I guess I've been stretching the truth a bit for the both of us, huh?"
She thought that by telling Maggie she was too sick to travel, it would make it a real, legitimate reason to not return to the house. She thought that if the reason was real, then it would automatically prevent them from moving back to D.C., because it would mean jeopardizing Maggie's health, which would immediately stop Natasha from acting.
"Honestly, it will probably not be a fun quinjet ride for her, but it's definitely safe," Bruce answered evenly, not calling Natasha out or reprimanding her for her lie. "Maggie's been pretty stable throughout this whole ordeal, thankfully."
Natasha gave a slight nod, indicating her agreement with Bruce's evaluation. She bit her lip momentarily, then sighed. "Bruce, be honest with me - is it really necessary we go back home?"
Bruce looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. "Yes, I believe it is, for both of you."
She raised an eyebrow at that. "Both of us? I'm not…"
The words of protest died on her lips, because she knew exactly what Bruce was talking about, and he knew that she knew.
Bruce's expression hardened, as did his next batch of words. "If you can't accept Steve's death with Maggie, then she can never accept it herself. Steve will always feel nonexistent to her, because you never tried to address his death with her head-on. Have you ever even taken her to his grave before?"
He had a dangerous, dangerous point, Natasha knew. Who was she kidding? She knew she was running from her problems and past, and chose to forget instead of accept. She just chose to believe it wouldn't affect Maggie in any negative way.
But, with her recent persistence in going home, and, now, Bruce's words, Natasha had been slowly realizing that it was affecting the girl. Maggie looked to Natasha as her mother, and as her living connection to her late father. Natasha had been failing miserably at her latter role all along.
Her eyes felt wet all of a sudden, and she cursed them. She condemned the tears threatening to fall, aggressively blinking them away. She didn't deserve the privilege to cry. She wasn't the one suffering.
"Don't be too hard on yourself, Natasha," Bruce advised as he watched her internal war rage on through her troubled expression. "I'm telling you this because I've noticed it in each of us, and how we act around Maggie. Some days, everyone looks at her like she's supposed to be Steve, but she's not, and she never will be."
With a small sniffle, Natasha propped her head up against the table top with a hand, looking as stressed as ever. "I'm an idiot," she muttered lowly.
"And so are we," he reminded. "So, can we trust you to be the leader in changing things?"
Maggie was so happy. In fact, she didn't think she had ever been so happy before in her entire short life. At least, that was the impression Natasha got from the sidelines in observing her daughter's joy.
At the announcement of their homecoming, Maggie's expression had lit up in a way Natasha recognized as the face the girl made when welcoming Natasha home. It was an accurate emotion to display, Natasha later reflected, as Maggie would now be welcoming the lingering presence of Steve back into her life.
Natasha knew their journey wouldn't be the easiest, though. Maggie could already barely stand without collapsing from exhaustion and just general lack of strength; they tested this when Maggie had declared she could change her own pajamas a few weeks earlier, and Natasha ended up catching her after she managed to push herself up for five seconds. Maggie had to be guided by hand and limbs ready to catch her at any moment everywhere, which often frustrated her. Natasha would try to make the required assistance as lighthearted and subtle as possible, but Maggie always wore an unreadable expression that Natasha could only read as disappointment and shame during these instances.
So, now, on the date Maggie had handpicked with Natasha for them to move home, Pepper and Clint were waiting with their bags in the penthouse, where Phil and Agent Melinda May would land their quinjet outside of to take mother and daughter back to D.C.
Meanwhile, Natasha was trying to help Maggie get ready, down in her room on the communal floor.
The spy smiled up at the girl as she gently buttoned the jacket that was covering Maggie's multi-layered outfit. "Are you excited to go back home, Лапушка?"
Maggie nodded sleepily, her expression warm and a bit dopey, though the former was probably due to the ever-present shade of red in her cheeks. "I miss home."
"I know," Natasha murmured, slowing her pace as she reached the top buttons. "It's been awhile, huh?"
"Too long," Maggie hummed in agreement, relaxing against the chair Natasha had seated her on.
Once she finished the top button, Natasha's movements paused momentarily, before she ran a gentle thumb across Maggie's soft cheek. "I'm sorry it's been so long, Maggie. It's my fault; I'm not very brave."
Though Maggie probably wouldn't understand what Natasha was referring to, she looked as compassionate as ever. "It's okay. You're super brave; you're an Avenger."
The logic was childlike in depth, but also Maggie's general understanding of the way the world worked. Natasha just smiled again at her words, standing up from the ground she was kneeling on and kissing Maggie's forehead on the way up. "Thank you, Лапушка. I love you."
"Love you, too," Maggie murmured with a yawn, rubbing her eyes with a mitten-covered hand. Natasha couldn't help but admire her handiwork; it had been a long time since Maggie had gone out in the snow, thus needing all the clothing items Natasha had placed on her, but it appeared that the mother still had her touch.
Next, Natasha reached for the two final items that had been cast off to the side, as they always came last. "Okay, time to pick: hat, or earmuffs?"
Maggie hummed in thought for a moment, before pointing a small hand at the second option. "Earmuffs."
With an amused expression, Natasha placed the warming object on Maggie's head carefully, making sure it was in the most precise placing that would protect her ears best. She then slid her own beanie onto her head, and crouched down once more in front of Maggie, though now facing away from her. "Climb on, kid."
They actually used to do this a lot - Maggie loved piggyback rides, and Natasha gave the best ones (Maggie's opinion, though Natasha had to agree). The girl cautiously and slowly pushed herself off of the chair, snaking her arms around Natasha's neck tiredly. She bent her legs, allowing Natasha to secure her arms under her knees and stand back up at full height.
"There we go. Hang on tight," Natasha reminded Maggie, who had already rested her head on Natasha's shoulder. The woman smiled bitter-sweetly at the gesture; there was a time, back when Maggie was healthy, that the girl always had her head raised during piggyback ride adventures, and would even dare to raise an arm from the neck of the carrier without fear of falling off.
Now, it was the opposite. Maggie's grip around Natasha's next was tight, though not suffocating the spy too badly, yet. It was as if she were afraid she wouldn't be able to will herself to hold on for a long time.
(And, honestly, the same fear crossed Natasha's mind, so she made sure to pay extra close attention to every shift in Maggie's muscles, so she could anticipate any possible falls.)
They exited the bedroom together, Maggie barely making a move to bid the four walls she had stared at, day and night, for nearly two months, a sentimental farewell. After making their way up to the penthouse via elevator, the duo met Pepper and Clint on the other side of the room, right beside the door that led to the ledge the quinjet would be landing on.
"The snow is so pretty today," Maggie exhaled against Natasha's ear as they stopped by the windows. Her eyes seemed to light up a bit at the changed view of the outside world, different than the one she had been watching in her bedroom for so long.
"It just won't stop snowing," Clint sighed, shaking his head. "I swear, summer will never come at this rate."
"Oh, relax, Clint; it's only February, anyway," Pepper reminded, rolling her eyes. "We'll be fine."
"I like the snow," Maggie murmured, still watching the fall. "Do you like it, Mama?"
Snow made her think of Russia, the Red Room, the KGB, missions in which she or someone else was nearly killed purely because of the cold weather, and the seventy years Steve spent encased in a block of ice without escape.
But, at the same time, it made her think of the way Maggie's face lit up at the sight of the weather, both when she was healthy and sick. When she was able to play outside, it was nearly impossible to reign her back in; when she had to lie in bed for days and weeks, she was often caught just staring out her window, completely taken by the sight.
So, Natasha smiled. "I do," she finally answered, her voice as raw and earnest as Maggie's. "I really do."
Pepper and Clint shared an unreadable glance for a moment, which was interrupted by the sound of a quinjet landing outside. Maggie didn't seem to perk up much at the sound or resulting sight, but the smile on Natasha's face grew.
"They're here, Maggie," she spoke lightly, excitement in her voice. "We get to go home now."
As the group walked outside, Pepper and Clint following with their bags and to see them off, Natasha slowed her pace a bit. She wanted Maggie to be able to savor every moment of being outside, as she hadn't been out in months.
Winter was her favorite season, so Natasha couldn't help but feel pity for her.
Maggie scrunched her face up as a couple snowflakes hit her face, but she was still smiling appreciatively. "I missed snow."
"I figured," Natasha agreed, looking up at the white skies.
"It makes me think of Daddy," Maggie thought aloud, and Natasha stopped, confused.
"Why's that, Лапушка?" Sure, snow could be a connection to Steve because of his time in the ice, but that wasn't the happiest connection to him to make.
"I had a dream where it was snowing, and he was in it," Maggie explained, her voice as soft as the snowflakes fluttering around. "We walked through it together."
Natasha gave a sad smile at that, and continued walking. "I'm sure he would've loved playing in the snow with you, Maggie."
When they reached the ramp leading up into the interior of the quinjet, Phil was standing at the bottom, a warm expression on his face. "It's nice to see you again, Natasha. It's been quiet around S.H.I.E.L.D. without you wreaking havoc with Barton over there."
He was half-joking, and Clint just shrugged in reply as he and Pepper boarded the quinjet to load their bags (he couldn't deny Phil's comment, honestly), but Natasha could detect the sincerity in his voice; the sentiment of just missing her. She returned the warm expression. "I've never been able to just stay home all day, every day, before. It's actually kind of nice."
Phil nodded approvingly, before turning his gaze to Maggie's tired eyes. "Hey, Maggie. It's been a while."
She blinked, giving him a small smile. "I missed you, Uncle Phil."
"I missed you, too," he replied, as May descended the ramp to help Clint and Pepper pack the bags.
"Thanks again for doing this, Coulson," Natasha said. "It really means a lot to me - to us."
"You know I'd do anything for you two, Tasha," Phil assured her, his voice as warm as ever. "I know it's hard right now, and I want to do all I can to help."
"This is more than enough," Natasha replied gratefully, as Pepper and Clint rejoined them at the bottom of the ramp.
"Well, kid," Clint began with a nostalgic sigh, placing a hand on Maggie's back, prompting her to turn her eyes to him, "it looks like it's time for you two to leave."
Maggie nodded. "I'll miss you, Uncle Clint."
Something passed over in Clint's eyes for a moment, which Natasha was later able to identify as pure emotion. Clint actually looked choked up. "I'll miss you, too, kid. Be nice to your mom for me, yeah?"
"Yeah, I will," she promised softly.
Clint leaned closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead that made her smile. "I love you, kid - don't you ever forget that. And, remember, I'm just a phone call away if you ever need anything."
"Okay. I love you, too, Uncle Clint."
Now, it was Pepper's turn for goodbyes, and she covered Maggie's face in tiny, fluttering kisses that made the girl laugh. Natasha chuckled at the sight, as it was something that Pepper tended to do with Maggie on a regular basis - something on a similar level to the obligatory 'knock, knock' jokes that Natasha brought home.
Once she was done, Pepper ran a gentle hand through Maggie's hair, which held an increasing number of specks of snow. "It's been really fun having you here, Maggie, but we all understand how hard it is to be away from home for so long. I hope you can really feel better at home, so you can come visit a lot, and we can come visit you."
"Promise?" Maggie inquired, looking very serious.
"I promise, swear on Avenger's honor, all of that," Pepper assured her, placing one last kiss to her cheek. "I love you, Maggie."
"I love you, too, Auntie Pep."
Now, May was waiting at the top of the ramp, as Phil walked up to join her. He waved his farewell to Pepper and Clint, who gave him warm smiles and nods in return.
"Alright, Maggie, let's go home," Natasha spoke softly, and Maggie simply nodded in agreement. The two redheads ascended the ramp as Pepper and Clint stepped back, allowing room for the ramp to rise back toward the quinjet.
Quickly, before it closed completely, Natasha turned back to see Pepper and Clint's emotional, but still happy, expressions. She had a feeling her own face, at that moment, mirrored theirs. "Thanks so much, you guys, for everything."
"Don't mention it, Tasha," Clint called back. "Just make sure the kid gets better."
"I want to see Maggie healthy and happy back here, running around, by the time she's turning six!" Pepper insisted, and Natasha nodded with a laugh.
"I'll do my best," she swore, and watched the two godparents disappear as the quinjet's door closed.
May walked up to the mother and daughter duo next, her expression unreadable. "We'll be taking off in a few minutes."
Maggie stared at the senior agent curiously. "Mama, who is she?"
Natasha offered May a smirk at Maggie's oblivious question. May looked slightly uncomfortable, because Natasha knew she wasn't a huge fan of little kids, which was ultimately why she tended to avoid Maggie. Phil had told Natasha before it was due to some bad mission experience with little kids, and Natasha could relate to that.
"This is Agent Melinda May. You know, the one from mine, Uncle Phil's, and Uncle Clint's stories? She helped Uncle Phil save S.H.I.E.L.D.," Natasha explained, and Maggie's expression lit up with sudden interest.
"You're Agent May?" she looked like she had just come face to face with God, or any other huge divine figure. "You're so cool!"
"Uh, thanks," May just awkwardly replied. "I'm gonna go get ready for take-off, then."
She turned and fled to the cockpit after that, and Natasha just sighed. "She's kind of shy. You'll have to talk to her more another time."
Maggie nodded against Natasha's shoulder. "She seems nice, though."
"She is," Natasha agreed, walking over to the line of seats on the side of the quinjet. She carefully turned and lowered Maggie into one.
"When was the last time we were in a quinjet?" Maggie questioned as Natasha bent down and strapped her in.
"Probably last summer," Natasha guessed, carefully adjusting and tightening the straps to Maggie's smaller size.
After she finished securing Maggie in, Natasha lowered herself into the seat beside her daughter, discarding her heavy snow jacket in another seat.
"When we get home, we should make a thank you card for Uncle Phil and Agent May for flying us, don't you think?" Natasha thought aloud, after seeing that both agents in question were out of earshot, as they were getting ready to take off. She strapped herself into the seat with ease, thinking back on how many times she usually co-piloted quinjet flights. It had been a while since she had been able to just sit back and relax. "You can draw something on it, and I can show you how to write a message for them. They'll love it."
But Maggie didn't respond. As soon as Natasha had sit down, Maggie leaned her head against the spy, her eyes heavy with the sleep she was trying to fight off. Natasha smirked a bit at the sight, though her heart ached for the lack of energy Maggie had these days.
"Go ahead, Лапушка, I'll wake you when it's time to get off," Natasha assured her, repositioning a bit so she could put an arm around Maggie's shoulders, and allow Maggie to rest more comfortably against her.
Maggie nodded a little, accompanied by a vocal noise of acknowledgement. It didn't take long before her breathing evened out, and her body completely relaxed against Natasha.
She really hoped this 'going home' thing would work. If Maggie could relax more at home, she should be able to get better, and improve. Her condition had been pretty steady throughout the past two months, which was both good and bad.
Perhaps Steve's presence in the house can remedy that.
Save her, Steve. Heal our little girl. Make her healthy again. Please, Natasha silently prayed as they began the journey home.
Once they were home, things just suddenly felt right.
Maggie's spirits seemed lifted in a way Natasha hadn't seen in a long time as soon as they crossed through the front door. Natasha just smiled at the sight as she carried Maggie through the house, re-familiarizing themselves with the forgotten home, while Phil brought in their bags behind them.
He left them quickly after he was done, too, as he knew how important this was to both redheads.
As soon as Maggie was back in her own bed, she immediately grabbed the framed picture of their family off her bedside table. She held it up, examining it closely, going on and on about how she had somehow forgotten to grab it during the move. Natasha just smiled bitter-sweetly from the foot of her bed.
"Daddy's here, Mama," Maggie insisted, hugging the forgotten picture tightly to her chest. It had always been a favorite of hers, hence why it was in her room. In it were Natasha and Steve, having just come home from a long mission, as they were still covered in dirt and grime in their respective uniforms. Despite that, they were practically beaming, as, between them, they held a very happy nine month old Maggie.
Maggie always got a dreamy look in her eyes when she gazed upon the picture. "He wants us to stay here."
Natasha had a feeling that was probably true, as she could feel the familiar feeling of Steve's presence just by sitting in the small house. She scooted closer to Maggie, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair, as the five year old resumed staring at the picture. "I think he does, too."
Maggie paused her examination for a brief moment, glancing up at Natasha curiously.
"Do you want us to stay here, too, Mama?"
Natasha was silent for a moment. Sparing a glance at the wall opposite the side of the room they were sitting on, Natasha caught sight of a quick, but noticeable, distortion in the air. Staring harder, she could swear she saw Steve for no longer than a heartbeat.
He mouthed the words, "thank you," and was gone by the time Natasha blinked, refocusing her gaze on the actual wall.
And, suddenly, Natasha felt the path to healing was not too far out of reach. She would grieve his death with Maggie by her side, and then move on, with Maggie still by her side.
So, with teary eyes, Natasha nodded, turning to Maggie with a steadfast expression.
"Yeah, I do. And, I promise, we will."
A/N: Wow, this is a long one for a not-even-a-week-since-my-last-chapter update... I would have waited until the weekend, but I'm unfortunately going to be super busy and traveling a bit all over the place, ergo, unable to post this until June! I wanted this to be posted in May as a part of my ongoing overall theme of motherhood and such. So far, we've looked at Maria (in the drunk driving chapter, which was actually posted at the end of April, but I'm counting it), Nat, Pepper, Peggy, and May as sort of the maternal figures in Maggie's life (though Peggy was not really there), and I wanted to conclude with a final, more intensive look at Nat when faced with tragedy. (Ow, my heart.)
I thought this would be an interesting take on Natasha's character. Toward the beginning I felt odd writing this, because she seemed so selfish with the direction I was going, but, in a way, I think that might've been a good thing. I dunno, I feel like if we don't take the time to acknowledge and explore potential character flaws given certain circumstances, the characters turn kinda flat in a way. Maybe that's just me, but the point is, part of this was supposed to kind of 'antagonize' Nat, so that the rest of the chapter was her learning how to overcome that weight and 'better' herself. (I feel like I'm not making sense to anyone but me? Ah, oh, well.)
Ultron's really been giving me a new way of building up this story! I used him as the reason why Clint was raising Maggie alone in "Gifts of the Magi," and I definitely plan on exploring some of the other characters as parental figures for Maggie in the same... "Morbid" way. *evil laughter* You could probably already spot some parallels here with Clint's chapter, especially toward the end. Before anyone yells at me for doing so, you can also blame independentalto for bouncing angsty ideas off of me! SO GO YELL AT HER, TOO.
I think that's all for now. See you all next time! :D
