Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band: Vol. 2 (Parts 6-9)
[Part Six: Can't Help Falling in Love]
"Yes."
With just one word from Natasha, Tony's heart was soaring.
There was an on-going joke amongst his friends that Tony didn't have a heart. If its existence was ever legitimately called into question, he could point to this exact moment and say, "I have proof." The truly heartless couldn't possibly feel the way he was feeling now.
"But it doesn't matter," Natasha continued.
And just like that, Tony's heart came crashing down as reality hit him square in the face.
"'Spose you're right," he agreed.
"Even if you didn't have a girlfriend, we've only known each other a few weeks. I'm not even sure what 'like' means at this point." She paused, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "Do you?"
Slowly, Tony shook his head. "Guess not."
It was true. He didn't know Natasha that well. She didn't really know him. Still, from the moment he saw her, he couldn't help—
No! He couldn't let himself think that. Not when she was clearly talking herself down another path, even as she was leaning closer to him. Like a magnet, he was equally helpless against the pull that drew him closer to her.
A crash near the entrance of the alley startled them, and Natasha jerked backwards. Tony felt the distance settle back between them.
Natasha stood up. "I'm gonna head back inside before we do something we'll both regret." She was almost at the alley's entrance when she stopped and turned. "I'd never forgive myself if I, well, you know… But we can be friends, right? Really get to know each other. You're with Pepper, and I'm not ready to be with anyone, especially not someone who's already in a relationship. I don't need the drama. But I'm willing to be your friend, if you want."
Friends…
Tony's heart had dropped so low, it was likely passing one of his kneecaps at that moment.
"Sure," he replied with as unaffected a smile as he could muster. "Friends. I can do that."
Maybe he could, maybe he couldn't. Only time would tell.
"Good," Natasha said with a small smile. "You going back inside or…?"
Tony shook his head. "Nah. I think I need a moment."
Natasha nodded and disappeared around the corner.
He waited until he heard the sound of a door closing before collapsing back against the brick wall, settling further down on the makeshift bench.
Friends…
Tony sighed, and the sound morphed into an anguished groan as he covered his face with his hands.
You're a fool for thinking she'd want anything more, his conscious mocked him. She's right. You barely know each other. Thinking you're in love when you've only just met? Are you out of your mind? What is this—a 90s teen movie?
"Shut up," Tony hissed at his inner voice. "I'm really not in the mood for this invisible Jiminy Cricket bullshit."
But she likes you, the voice whispered. So, there's hope.
"No," Tony choked. "No hope. Hoping is a waste of energy and time and—"
Time, the voice echoed.
Natasha's words flooded back to him. "But we can be friends, right? Really get to know each other. You're with Pepper, and I'm not ready to be with anyone."
Time, the voice repeated. Time to get to know each other. Time to deal with Pepper. Time until Natasha's ready. Time.
Tony thought about time.
And thought.
And thought.
Time.
He could be patient. Sure, he wasn't exactly known for his patience, but Natasha would be worth it, right?
"Besides," Tony muttered to himself, "only fools rush in, and I am not a fool."
[Part Seven: Jolene]
Pepper couldn't find Tony, and the need to know everything was clawing at her insides like a dangerous, wild animal trapped in a cage. She looked everywhere, but her wayward boyfriend was nowhere to be found.
Then she heard it—the echo of a girl's voice saying her name.
"It's Pepper."
The voice came from the alley between The Tower and another building. Slowly, Pepper eased around the corner, her eyes immediately landing on Tony sitting next to that Romanoff girl. Pepper's mouth tightened into a thin line of annoyance.
On her side of the alley, there was a dumpster. She could get to it without being seen and hear them better. Spying was wrong, and she'd be the first to admit that this was not her greatest moment, but Pepper needed to know. If Tony wouldn't be honest with her, this was the only way. (And she knew she was rationalizing her actions to herself, thank you very much, but she was desperate).
Safely tucked away behind the side of the dumpster, Pepper held her breath as she strained to hear the conversation between Tony and the girl, but all she could hear was silence. It was a foreboding kind of silence that stretched on for an eternity. She wished someone would say something.
"I like you," Tony said suddenly.
Not that. Say anything but that.
"You have a girlfriend." The Romanoff girl's reply gave Pepper pause. Why would she be worried about Pepper? If the roles were reversed, then…
"I know," Tony replied.
Damn right, you know. At least Tony knows that—
"Do you like me?"
Tony's question to the other girl stopped Pepper's brain in its tracks. A lump formed in her throat making it impossible to swallow. A painful stinging sensation needled the backs of her eyes. She blinked hard, willing away the tears that threatened to spill as she waited for the girl's reply.
"Yes."
No!
Pepper was moments away from revealing herself when the Romanoff girl spoke again.
"But it doesn't matter."
"'Spose you're right."
"Even if you didn't have a girlfriend, we've only known each other a few weeks. I'm not even sure what 'like' means at this point." The girl paused. "Do you?"
Pepper was surprised by the girl's question. How does she not know what it means to "like" someone?
"Guess not."
And what does that mean? How does Tony not know?
There was a long stretch of suspicious silence. At the risk of being caught, Pepper leaned forward a bit. Still hidden by the dumpster and the rest of her concealed by the darkness of night, Pepper had a better visual of Tony and the girl sitting next to one another, both a bit too close to each other for her comfort. And they were leaning closer and closer. As they leaned, so did Pepper. Half of her wanted to run out and put a stop to what was about to happen, while the other half was incapable of moving. The war of both halves ended abruptly when she stumbled forward.
Pepper jerked back just as Tony looked up and the Romanoff girl looked in her direction, both having missed seeing her by what had to be a millisecond. She waited with bated breath, willing her heart to stop pounding so hard and so fast. Surely they could hear it. She stopped breathing completely when she heard the sound of movement. Someone was standing up.
"I'm gonna head back inside before we do something we'll both regret."
With a start, Pepper realized that she was about to get caught. Tony would be livid if he caught her eavesdropping. She needed to get out of there.
Keeping close to the brick wall, Pepper skirted around the corner of the alley and was about to sneak back inside when she heard the Romanoff girl speak again. It was hard to hear from her new spot just outside the door, but Pepper could make out something about being friends. She heard the girl say "Pepper" and "drama." She couldn't hear Tony's reply; he was too far away. Whatever he said, the Romanoff girl must've liked it.
"Good… You going back inside or…?"
Pepper took that as her cue to disappear. She was halfway up the first flight when she heard the door open behind her followed by the sound of one set of footsteps.
Romanoff.
There it was again—that desperate, clawing need to know.
Taking a deep breath to regain her composure, Pepper halted on the landing and turned, prepared for battle.
A few moments later, the girl with red hair and green eyes came into view and froze on the steps in front of her.
"Pepper, hey."
"Romanoff."
The Romanoff girl's eyes darted to either side of Pepper, looking for a way around her. Pepper folded her arms over her chest and rolled her shoulders back. That TED Talk on power poses was useful after all.
"Is everything okay?" the Romanoff girl asked, her cheeks looking slightly flushed.
Guilty.
"I don't know," Pepper said unflinching. "You tell me."
The other girl's shoulder's sagged like a deflated balloon.
"How much did you hear?"
"Enough."
The Romanoff girl mumbled something under her breath and sighed. "I really don't feel like having a confrontation in the stairwell. Can we do this somewhere else?"
Tony could come in at any moment.
"Fine."
Romanoff gestured for Pepper to lead the way. "After you."
A few minutes later, Pepper found herself alone with the Romanoff girl after successfully shooing a few of their peers from the girl's bathroom. After all, the girl's bathroom was invented solely for the purpose of female-driven high school drama. It was the perfect battleground for war.
Pepper opened her mouth, preparing to fire the first shot when Romanoff cut her off.
"I'm gonna stop you right there, because I'm pretty sure I know what you're about to say. I don't need to hear it."
Pepper tried to speak once more and, again, the damn Romanoff girl cut her off.
"Like, really, really, really don't need to hear it. Whatever you're about to say, just save it." The redhead jumped up on the bathroom sink and locked eyes with Pepper. "I'm not trying to 'steal your man' or however you were about to phrase that. Do I like Tony? Yes. Which I guess you already knew. Does Tony like me? Yes. But you knew that already, too. What does it all mean? Hell, if I know.
"But I'll tell you what I told him. I'm only interested in being friends. Everything else, and I mean everything, is between the two of you. I don't want to be a part of your relationship drama."
Before the Romanoff girl could cut her off again, Pepper spoke. "But you are a part of it."
The redhead arched an eyebrow. "I'm really not, though."
Pepper pressed further. "And, yet, you are. You've only been at school for a few weeks, and, already, practically everyone is obsessed with you, including my boyfriend. It has to stop."
To Pepper's surprise, the Romanoff girl laughed.
"I couldn't agree more."
It was a night for surprises all around, Pepper mused. "What do you mean by that?" she asked.
The Romanoff girl twisted around and started fussing with her hair in the mirror. "Exactly what you said. It needs to stop. I feel like I'm stuck in some purgatory-Hell-loop thingy. Just keep having the same conversation with everyone over and over and over. Honestly, it's enough to drive anyone absolutely batshit, insane-in-the-membrane, looney toons. It's freakin' absurd."
Pepper frowned. "I'm not quite sure I follow, Romanoff." She practically spat as she said the redhead's name.
The Romanoff girl rolled her eyes. "Pepper, I'm not your enemy. You can call me Natasha."
"You are my enemy."
"No. I'm not."
"But you are."
Romanoff threw her hands in the air. "See! Hell-loop!" A strangled groan escaped her lips. "I'm not. I can't control Tony or any of the other guys. I'm not responsible for what they do, think, or say. The only person I have any control over is me. Same goes for you. Same goes for everyone else. The only person anyone can control is themselves. The sooner you get that, the easier your life will be. Then, maybe, we could be friends."
Pepper wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Friends?"
"Yes. That's all I ever wanted. Friends."
"Somehow, Miss Romanoff—"
"Natasha."
Pepper sighed. "Somehow, Natasha, I doubt you've had problems making friends in life, seeing how it took less than three weeks before you had the entire student body wrapped around your little finger."
Natasha laughed, but it was an empty, hollow sound. "Wrapped around my finger. Uh-huh. Sure. That explains the last week or so of slut-shaming and getting the evil eye from practically every girl at school.
"You know," Natasha continued, "I've heard that you're pretty smart. One of the top students in our class, but that has to be one of the stupidest things I've ever heard. Doubt I've had problems making friends, my ass." She snorted. "Before coming to Marvel High, I had one friend, Pepper, one friend. Clint Barton. I've spent my entire life desperately trying to make friends, but something always ruins it. The guys always end up liking me and complaining about friend-zoning them, while the girls act like I'm the big, bad competition for the affections of the idiotic, unwashed miscreants at school.
"I mean, who the hell cares? I sure don't. I think it's stupid that we've been conditioned to compete against one another for what? Just so a boy will like us more than some other girl? How is that not the stupidest thing you've ever heard? It's a toxic mentality, and I'm suffocating from the fumes. Well, newsflash! I'm done competing. To be clear, I never was. Not intentionally, anyway. But I'm not looking to compete with you, Pepper."
Natasha paused, giving Pepper a much-needed moment to digest her rant.
"All I've ever wanted was friends," Natasha continued. "I love Clint, I do, but what I want, more than anything, are female friends. Never had those until I came here. Now I have Carol and Valkyrie and Maria, kinda, but…well, I can't really get into why, but I will say that I'm still missing true, meaningful female friendships. The kind where we build one another up, cheer each other on instead of tearing one another down.
"If you're interested, I'd love to be that for you, Pepper, but I'm not going to continue this Kabuki theater act of me vs. you in the fight for Tony's attention. It's dumb as hell. If you want to be friends, great. If not, I'll deal, but I'm not putting up with this anymore. You can talk at me or about me until you're blue in the gills, but I can't take it anymore.
"So, Pepper, what's it going to be?"
Pepper studied Natasha closely. She seemed sincere, but appearances were often deceiving. Something inside her was screaming that Natasha's frustration was genuine and her words were honest, though.
"I love Tony," Pepper whispered.
"Do you, though?" Natasha prompted. It sounded like a challenge.
Pepper crossed her arms. "Of course, I do."
Natasha held her hands up in surrender. "I only ask because, to me, love isn't about controlling someone. That's not love. Love needs trust."
"I thought you wanted to be friends. Is that how you talk to your friends?"
"Yeah, when they need a little tough love, that is. But we're not friends yet cause you never answered my question."
Pepper and Natasha stared at each other for a bit, one silently fuming and the other watching with mild amusement.
"Can I think about it?" Pepper finally asked.
Natasha pretended to consider this for a moment. "Sure, but I don't recommend taking too long."
"Why not?"
"Because I get the feeling that your brain is a scary, scary place. Too much thinking about this might put us back right where we started. Hell-loop, remember?"
Pepper scowled. "Very funny."
"How about while you're thinking, we sing a song together," Natasha said, swinging off the counter.
"What did you have in mind? Please tell me it's not 'The Boy is Mine.'" Pepper made a face.
"No, of course not." Natasha made an equally displeased face. "Something much better."
[Part Eight: I Will Survive]
"At first I was afraid, I was petrified…"
Tony could hardly believe his eyes.
"Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side…"
Never in a thousand years could he have guessed he'd bear witness to a moment like this.
"But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong…"
Pepper.
"And I grew strong…"
And Natasha.
"And I learned how to get along…"
Together.
"And so you're back…"
The song kicked into gear and the crowd went wild as the two girls on stage gave it their all.
"What is happening?" Tony asked to no one in general as he took his seat between Rhodey and Bruce.
Rhodey shrugged, his mouth slightly ajar, while Bruce couldn't be bothered to tear his gaze away from Natasha.
"An enlightening response, thank you," Tony muttered, similarly incapable of looking anywhere else. His girlfriend and the girl he liked singing together on stage. How had this happened? And why? It couldn't have happened at a more suspicious time, especially after blowing up at Pepper half an hour earlier and his private conversation with Natasha…what, less than 10 minutes ago?
And what was with the song? Who chose this? What did it mean?
Tony's brain couldn't handle it. He shook his head and continued staring dumbfoundedly at the scene unfolding before him.
On the other side of the room, Bucky Barnes was likewise watching the unusual performance completely unaware that his best friend watching him just with an equal intensity.
That song can't be a coincidence, Bucky thought to himself. Unless Pepper chose it, but—
Natasha locked eyes with him, belting out:
"Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye,
Do you think I'd crumble,
Did you think I'd lay down and die?"
Nope. Natasha definitely picked the song. Bucky grimaced.
"You okay, Buck?" Steve asked, but Bucky wasn't listening.
Natasha looked so beautiful up there, vibrant and full of life, radiating with the kind of self-empowerment and confidence other teenagers would kill for.
And he let her slip through his fingers.
I'm an idiot.
Bucky thought about getting up, leaving the room, and waiting somewhere for the song to be over. He thought about marching up on stage, grabbing Natasha, and stealing her away so he could talk some sense into her. He thought about marching outside to the balcony and taking a swan dive off the side.
But he couldn't move.
Bucky was stuck. Motionless. Incapable of anything except looking at her and hating himself. Those were the only two things he'd ever been good at.
Once upon a time, he'd been good at loving her.
But that fairy tale ended. He ended it. She had every right to hate him.
"Buck?" Steve prompted again, nudging him in the side to get his attention. "You good?"
Bucky shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Uh, yeah, man. I'm good."
"Liar."
"I think, uh, I think I need some fresh air," Bucky croaked.
"Want some company?"
"Nah, man. I'm good."
Bucky took one last look at Natasha. Their eyes met. She was belting out the chorus once more with Pepper singing and dancing along at her side. For a moment, though, Natasha and Bucky were the only two people in the room.
Bucky swallowed and slipped through the balcony doors and into the cool, autumn night.
"From now on, unless it's about football or I approach you, please leave me alone."
Natasha's request haunted Bucky as he tried not to watch the rest of his ex-girlfriend's performance through the glass doors. He forced himself to move off to the side, restricting his view. It was the only way he could respect her wishes and not go barreling in after her. He could ride this out.
Inside, the music stopped, and another song started up. A man's voice sang along to a song Bucky didn't know. He idly wondered what Natasha was doing now, but he didn't have to wonder for long. Moments later, Natasha slipped through the large, glass door.
"Hiya, stranger."
[Part Nine: I Will Always Love You]
"T-Tash…er…Natasha. What-? I mean, uh, how are-? Should I…do you want me to…?" Bucky trailed off as he gestured toward the door, his eyes wide and his entire body frozen in panic.
Natasha would've chuckled if it wasn't so sad.
"No, Bucky. You don't need to leave. I came out here on purpose."
"It's just that, I've been trying to give you your space, just like you asked, and—"
"I know," Natasha said, cutting him off. "Thank you."
Bucky shrugged. "It's the least I could do," he said, hanging his head in shame. When he looked up, he was startled by how close Natasha was. She'd leaned up against the railing, right next to him.
"I wanted to apologize for that song," Natasha said. "It was kinda mean."
"I deserved it," Bucky argued.
"True, but that doesn't make it any less mean." She paused, looking at him meaningfully. "Two wrongs don't make a right. And revenge never got anyone anywhere. Although a song is hardly revenge. Unless…is revenge singing a thing?"
The look on Bucky's face was priceless, and Natasha couldn't stop from chuckling now.
"I'm joking, Bucky. Lighten up." Natasha pointed to her mouth. "See the grin? This is my joking face. I know it's been a while, but…"
"Some things never change?"
Natasha nodded. "Yeah. Something like that."
They both fell silent, listening to the crowd inside and the sounds of the city around them. Out of the corner of her eye, Natasha watched Bucky glance nervously at her, then away, then back again. Over and over.
"Except everything's changed," she whispered.
"Yeah," Bucky agreed.
"Do you know why I agreed to go out with you that night?" Natasha didn't clarify. She knew Bucky understood which night she meant. Flashes of a sunset and the smell of sweat hit her like a freight train, taking her back to the night they met.
"Because I tricked you?" Bucky half-joked.
Natasha shook her head. "No, dork, because you were confident and funny and so sure of yourself. It was enthralling." She twisted so she could face him. "What happened?"
Bucky refused to look at her, hanging his head instead, as he tried to figure out exactly what she was asking. Natasha didn't blame him. She wasn't quite sure what she was asking either.
What happened to them? Obvious.
What happened to him? Less obvious.
What happened to make him leave? Impossible.
"Geez," Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "How did everything get so screwed up?"
"We were in love, then you left me. That's the 'how,' but I'm still a little fuzzy on the 'why' of it all."
Bucky shook his head. "I can't. It's too much. I can't deal." He stopped, realizing what she said and how she said it. "Were in love? Tasha, sorry, Natasha. I'm still in love with you. I'll always be in love with you. I know I messed it up, but I had something going on. Something bad, and I didn't want to drag you into it. Doesn't change how I feel about you." He turned toward her, and they locked stares. Natasha nearly lost herself in his blue eyes.
"I know," she whispered. "And I'll probably always love you, too. Something about never forgetting your first, and all that."
Seemingly seized by a manic force, Bucky pushed off the railing and paced in front of her.
"If I could, I'd take it back, take it all back, I would. You gotta know that. There's nothing I wouldn't do. Please, please, please know that, Natasha. I know I messed up, and I am so sorry about that. I know there's nothing I can do to fix it now, but if there was, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I can't tell you why I left cause I don't wanna put you in danger, but I'd do anything else. You gotta believe me on that, okay? You gotta believe how sorry I am, please."
"I believe you, Bucky."
He stopped his manic pacing and looked at her. "Good."
Something in his expression changed, and Natasha had to look away. With just one look, she'd been reminded of endless days and nights between them. An infinite, perfect present mixed with hopes for a future that would be stolen from her before she knew it. He'd been one of the only good things in her life, and she'd been his.
Each memory cut at her like a knife. Each wound bled with remembrance.
Sometimes being a teenager really sucked.
Natasha sniffled.
"You okay?" Bucky asked, his voice low and full of concern.
Natasha shook her head. "No," she sniffed. "No, I'm not okay. I wish we could go back. Back before you left. Before my mom… Before all of this. I know we can't, but everything hurts now. Everything sucks." She turned back to him, allowing the tears to fall freely. "But wishing isn't going to do a damn thing."
Bucky looked like he didn't know what to do. Natasha realized he was torn between trying to respect her wishes and wanting to comfort her.
"What happened to your mom?" Bucky asked.
Natasha sniffed once more before she completely fell apart. One second she was shaking and feeling colder than she should in the early autumn air and the next she was wrapped up in Bucky's warm, hesitant arms. He'd succumbed to his need to comfort her, although he felt like he was prepared to pull away at any moment. Selfishly wanting to stay like they were, if only for a little while, Natasha wrapped her own arms around his waist and squeezed as she explained everything in between hiccups and sobs. Bucky rubbed her back and made soothing noises, and—for the first time in a year—Natasha finally felt okay.
"I'm so sorry, Natasha. I had no idea," Bucky murmured into her hair. "I should've been there."
Natasha blinked.
She blinked again.
And again.
"Should've been there?" she echoed. "Should've been there?!"
She shoved away from his embrace.
"Yeah. You should've been there. I spent months crying over you and then my mom died, and I had no one to talk to. Clint was dealing with his own thing, and I needed you. Do you understand? I was in pain, and I needed you, but you were gone. And I've tried to convince myself that I hate you for leaving without a word, but I can't even do that because I still love you, you idiot." She huffed. "I guess we're both idiots."
Natasha looked at Bucky. Really looked at him. He looked like he hated himself more than she could ever hate him. Without thinking, she launched herself at him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Hard.
She poured every emotion, every feeling into that one kiss. All the pain, hurt, confusion. All the love, too. Everything she felt; everything she'd ever felt.
Then it was over.
Before Bucky could recover, Natasha turned and fled.
*A/N: So, this was supposed to be parts 6-10, but the part 10 I wrote was a lot shorter than I wanted. I'm still working on it, so expect Vol. 3 soon.
