I need to stop writing these author's notes when I first wake up. Seriously, my head is empty right now and I don't have anything meaningful to say.


Wednesday, February 8th, 2012

The rest of the meeting passed uneventfully compared to Tony's emotional announcement at the beginning. They discussed the logistics of how they would interact with S.H.I.E.L.D. – which was important since most of them were not quite sure of how things would proceed given what had happened in D.C. and with the bio-terror attack shortly after. Apparently, because Clint was on bed rest, the entirety of the Avengers Initiative had been put on hold. At least, that's how Natasha put it. Fury wanted all of them to be at one hundred percent before they officially started going on missions. The amount of emphasis she put on the word "all" made it clear that Clint was not the only one Fury was concerned about, making Tony's announcement actually perfectly timed.

There were a few other issues they discussed, such as training schedules, what goals they had for the future both as individuals and as a collective team, and who the hell put their socks in the dishwasher. (No one fessed up, and everyone at the table seemed to be legitimately baffled by it, so it was hard to determine legitimate suspects.) The most notable thing that came up was that Tony mentioned a project he was working on called "Ultron." The supposed idea was to have an AI that could seek out potential world threats before they happened. Steve, Natasha, and Clint all seemed a bit sketched out by the idea, but Bruce found it intriguing.

Not only would creating something like that be a massive undertaking but the revolutions that could be made in science and technology from even attempting to make that idea a reality went beyond the bounds of human astonishment. However, did make an effort to emphasize that he was still working on the basic levels of coding and it would probably be years before he'd even be close to having an alpha version to test out. That seemed to quell the concerns of the other Avengers – at least for now – but the possibilities were practically buzzing through Bruce's mind. He was planning on pulling Tony aside as soon as the meeting ended to continue discussing the possibilities, but as soon as he stepped out of the meeting room and into the kitchen, his attention was taken by someone else.

Lara was sitting on the floor, playing a game of keep-away with the dog. She wasn't being mean about it. She held a bright green and pink tennis ball in her hand and held it high enough so it would be just out of Lucky's reach if he sat or stood normally, but he'd easily be able to get to it if he stood up on his hind legs or jumped. Lucky didn't seem to get that though, or at least was just intent on using a different strategy to get what he wanted. He looked up at Lara with big, wide, puppy-dog eyes, silently pleading with her to let go of the ball. It was a sound strategy and had worked for Lucky in the past, but this time, Lara was not budging.

"No, you've got to work for it." Lara brought the ball down closer to Lucky, and he immediately sprang into action, trying to knock the ball out or her hand. However, he was not quick enough. Lara lifted the ball out of his reach again, causing Lucky to whine and resume his stance begging for Lara to drop it. "No, you aren't going to go anywhere in life if you don't work for it, so work for it."

The words were completely lost on Lucky. All he understood was that he wanted the ball, she had the ball, and he needed her to drop the ball. He was a dog, not a child. It was completely useless to try to impart a life lesson to him. That was not going to stop Lara from trying, though. She was steadfast and stubborn and was not going to let a dog get the better of her. Bruce would have probably found it amusing if it were not for the slightly despondent undertone to her demeanor.

Even though she was clearly lucid and interacting with the environment, something in the tone of her voice sounded thousands of miles away, or – more appropriately – like it was left at the courthouse. Given that she had not shared what had happened with the protection order, it was pretty much spelled out that things had gone badly. Concerned, Bruce moved across the kitchen to sit down on the ground next to her.

"Hey, how are you doing?" Lara jolted like she had just received an electric shock. Her hand let go of the ball and Lucky pounced on it. The ball ended up bouncing away from him, so the dog set off on a wild chase for it across the kitchen. Lara did not notice, though, as she was too busy taking in her surroundings and remembering what she was doing.

"Oh shit," she said. "I'm sorry. I just…"

"It's okay," Bruce assured. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, no," Lara said. "I startled myself, really. You are fine. Don't worry."

"Good," Bruce said, readjusting his position to get more comfortable. "I actually just came over to see how you were doing." Lara snorted dismissively.

"Fantastic," she said. "Thanks for asking." Bruce frowned a bit.

"Things didn't go well at court?" Lara sighed.

"No," she said. "They actually went perfectly. The judge gave me a six-month extension on the protection order, so I won't have to worry about that for a bit."

"Okay," Bruce said. "What's the problem then?" Lara looked down at her shoes.

"Dante didn't show up to court," Lara said. "That's how I was able to get everything approved so easily; no one was there to challenge the accusations."

"Oh," Bruce said. "Well, isn't that a good thing? I mean, no muss, no fuss." Lara nodded half-heartedly.

"Yeah," she said. "True, but… I do not know. Something about it just bothers me. I mean, before he was desperate to get into contact with me. Now, he does not even show up at the hearing. That just does not make sense to me. You'd think he'd take the opportunity when it was presented to him, right?"

"Right," Bruce agreed. "So, what do you think is going on?" Lara slumped her shoulders, almost defeated.

"I don't know," she said. "I just know that I want this to be over." Lara shut her eyes and rested her head against her knees. Bruce put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

"I don't suppose there's anything I can say to make you feel better?" he asked.

"No," she murmured. "It is what it is. At least I can get the police to help me if he comes near me now."

"If," Bruce emphasized. "Hopefully, he won't."

"Hopefully." Slowly, Lara looked up and met Bruce's eyes. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to concern yourself with me." Bruce's eyes widened.

"No, no," Bruce said. "It's not a bother. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm not okay," she admitted. "But I just need to get over it." As if to exemplify that, Lara straightened her posture to make herself seem more composed. Brushing a strand of hair out of her face, she quickly changed the subject. "So, how did the meeting go?"

"Uh, I think Tony wants to talk to you about that himself," Bruce said. "No offense, but it's really only his news to share."

"He's not dying, though, right?" Bruce shook his head.

"No," he said. "He's healthy as far as I know."

"Good," Lara said. "Because from the way he was acting before, I was scared that might be the case."

"No," Bruce said. "He's fine, but as I said, he's probably going to want to tell you himself." Lara nodded in understanding.

"Okay," Lara said at the same time Lucky trotted over to them, ball securely in his mouth. Lara smiled. "Hey, are you going to let me have that?" She reached out her hand to try to take the ball from him but snapped it back as soon as Lucky let out a low growl. It did not sound menacing, but it made it clear that Lucky was not going to give up the ball.

"You know you kind of deserved that, right?" Lara frowned.

"Shut up," she murmured, but the slight amount of amusement in her voice made it clear she did not mean it seriously. Bruce laughed.


Natasha had watched Clint carefully throughout the meeting. To his credit, he seemed to be doing good. His complexion was still a relatively healthy color and simple conversation did not wind him. He even seemed steady on his feet on the way down. It made Nat think for a bit that maybe she was worrying too much. Then the meeting ended, and it became apparent that she had been right to be concerned.

Clint was fine as he stood from the table and left the room – or at least he acted like it. He started to falter a bit as they walked through the kitchen and by the time they were out into the hallway, he was leaning against the wall for support. Natasha rolled her eyes and quickly tried to slip under his arm to try to support him.

"I warned you about this," she remarked.

"I'm fine," Clint tried to assure, but Natasha would not take it.

"You can't say that," she said. "It's against the rules."

"That's only during meetings," Clint tried to argue.

"No, it's a general rule," Natasha said. "You have to follow it all the time."

"I didn't agree to that," Clint said.

"No, the majority won out," Natasha pointed out. "You just have to deal with it."

"I hate democracy," Clint groaned.

"You'd hate living under a totalitarian regime more," Natasha said. "Trust me."

Not having a good enough argument for that, Clint relented and let Natasha take on his weight. She helped him down the hall, into the elevator, and all the way back to the bedroom. Nat pulled back the sheets and helped Clint into bed. He laid back as he tried to catch his breath. Concerned, she pressed the back of her hand against his forehead, trying to gauge his temperature. He did not feel hot, but that did not do anything to reassure her.

"How do you feel?" she asked. "And don't say 'fine' because I'm not going over that a third time." Clint snorted, but quickly sobered his features into a more serious expression.

"Mostly dizzy," he said. "It's not that bad."

"Were you like that during the meeting?" Clint shook his head.

"I didn't start feeling bad until I stood up," he said. "It's probably just from being inactive for so long." That made sense. Natasha sighed as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You better hope you're right about that," she said.

"I know I am." Natasha let out a scoffing laugh. "So, are you going to tell me what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." Natasha almost added an "I'm fine" to the end of that but caught herself before she became an explicit hypocrite. However, that did nothing to negate the fact that she was an implicit one, and Clint knew it.

"Come on, Nat," he said. "Cut the bullshit." Natasha sighed.

"I've just been worried, okay," she said. "It's no big deal." Clint's eyebrows raised contrastively.

"Not a big deal?" he questioned. "Since when do you worry about anything?"

"Since my best friend nearly got himself killed opening a letter." Clint's expression softened.

"Natasha…"

"Don't, Clint," she said, cutting him off. "Please just don't."

"I'm going to be fine." Natasha opened her mouth to reprimand his use of the f-word, but Clint beat her to it. "Ah, ah," he said. "I said 'going to be' that implies that I plan to be in the future, not denying that I'm not fine now." The corners of Nat's lips raised into a smirk.

"So, you admit that you're not fine." Clint then realized how he clearly walked into that one.

"Alright, fine," he said. "I admit it. I'm not okay, but I'm also not going to keel over at any second, so you can just relax." Natasha's posture only got more rigid.

"I'm not going to stop worrying," she said. "Not until this is all over."

"Until what's all over?" Natasha sighed.

"Someone's targeting the Avengers," she said. "You know it. I know it. Steve knows it. Tony knows it. Bruce knows it. S.H.I.E.L.D. knows it. The only one who remains blissfully unaware is Thor, and that's only because you can't exactly Fed-Ex Ebola to Asgard."

"I doubt it affects him the same way as us 'mere mortals' anyway," Clint remarked.

"You know there's something wrong here," Natasha said. "Even with the labs and medical equipment Sharpton had access to, there had to be other people involved. It's just too big a task for one person to pull off on their own."

"So, you think she lied to you when you held her at knifepoint?" Natasha turned her head so fast that she could have given herself whiplash. "Yeah, I know about that." Nat swallowed hard before directing her gaze downwards.

"Did Steve tell you?" Clint shook his head.

"Hill," he explained. "I messaged her the other night to see if there was an incident report ready yet. She said no, but filled me in on what happened." Natasha slouched dramatically. "You know that was uncalled for." She nodded.

"I know," she said.

"Then why did you do it?" Natasha bit her lip as she hesitated a moment. "Nat…"

"She wasn't talking," she finally said. "We needed her to talk to have any hope of a chance at saving you."

"That's still a little much and you know it," Clint said. "Don't get me wrong, she deserved every bit of that, but that doesn't mean it was the right thing to do."

"It wasn't like right and wrong mattered to me at the time," Natasha said. "All that mattered to me was saving you. Now that I can look at it objectively, I can see that I was wrong. I can also see how I compromised myself…" Clint narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I let my concerns for you cloud my judgment," Natasha explained. "I let my feelings drive my decision-making. I'm not supposed to do that. I'm never supposed to do that." Recognizing all too well where these words were coming from, Clint forced himself to sit up and scooched to sit next to her.

"Nat," he said. "It's alright."

"It's not," she said. "I'm not supposed to be like this. I'm not…"

"Stop." Clint waited until she was looking him in the eye. "You know where this is coming from, and you know that it's not right."

"I know, but…"

"No 'buts,'" Clint said. "You're a person Natasha. You're allowed to feel things."

"But I can't be this attached," she said coldly. "You know it, I know it…"

"No, I don't know," Clint said. "Because it's normal to become attached to people."

"Not to this extent," Natasha said. "Not to where I'm stepping out of line and threatening people; coming close to killing them."

"Okay," Clint said. "That is a little much, but it's not because you're too attached."

"Isn't it," Natasha asked. "Because the whole point was that I was scared you were going to die. I acted irrationally because I thought you were going to die. That's not…" She took a deep breath. "We've been in life or death situations before. I have seen you almost die before, but I was never that scared. For some reason, this just hit me harder than usual. I was afraid that…" Nat swallowed hard as she came to an abrupt stop. Clint's expression softened.

"…That what?" Natasha looked down. "Natasha, what are you afraid of?" Slowly, she gained the courage to look him in the eye.

"I'm afraid that I'll lose another part of my family," she admitted. "That it'll hurt too much. That I won't be able to…" Before she could say anymore, Clint pulled her into a hug. Normally, Nat would have resisted the comfort, but it gave her the opportunity to hide her face by burying it in his shoulder.

"Nat," he said carefully. "Coulson's death wasn't your fault.

"I know." She moved her head so Clint could hear her clearly but kept it at an angle where he would not be able to see most of her face. "I know, but it hurt. It really hurt. I wasn't expecting…"

"None of us were expecting it," Clint said. "Loki was such a wild card. Even I didn't know…" Clint's breathing hitched; a clear sign that he was flashing back to when he was under Loki's mind control. Natasha squeezed her arms tighter around him. Eventually, Clint found his voice and was able to finish his sentence. "Even I didn't know what he was going to do from one moment to the next."

"That doesn't make it any better," Natasha said. "I know in our line of work that it can happen at any time. I have known that for years and for some reason it did not feel real to me until it happened. Then it became very, very real. Then you got sick and I thought, 'not again. Please, not again.'" Clint gently rubbed her back.

"I know," Clint said. "I know exactly how that feels and the worst part is that fear is never going to go away." Natasha tensed. "I feel that all the time for Laura; for the kids; for you…" He took a breath. "Honestly, I have no idea how I deal with it. It is always there in the back of my mind and I cannot mute it. It is just something that is always there, reminding me of the consequences of fucking up. The thing is, if you listen to it too much, it usually ends up causing you to fuck up. The best you can do most of the time is just try."

"Try what?" Natasha asked.

"Just try to do my best," Clint explained. "Try not to do anything that would let Laura and the kids down, no matter how upset or scared I am. I think of them, and I try to do my best for them. Really, in the end, that is all you can do. If you try to be the better person, there is no reason you can ever feel ashamed of yourself, okay?"

"Okay." At that point, Natasha started to pull away, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She never broke out crying as she had feared when Clint first pulled her into the hug, but she felt as relieved as she would have if she did. In gratitude, she gave him a small, reassuring smile. "Thanks, Clint." He waved it off.

"It was nothing." Natasha tried not to roll her eyes at that dramatic understatement.

"It's not nothing," she said. "That really helped, and it meant a lot." Clint shrugged it off.

"Well, I do what I can for my friends," he said. "And hopefully they will do what they can for me." Natasha eyed him suspiciously.

"What do you want?" Clint tried to look as innocent as possible.

"Nothing much," he said. "I was just wondering if there was any chance that I'd be allowed to go downstairs for dinner later?" Natasha initially laughed like she was going to dismiss it but ended up surprising him.

"Tell you what," she said. "You bear with one more night of resting in bed, and we'll see about having breakfast downstairs tomorrow."

"That's the best deal I'm going to get, isn't it?" he asked.

"You bet your ass it is." Clint nodded.

"I'll take it!" Natasha laughed.

"Deal," she said. "Now get some rest."

Clint nodded before getting back under the covers and lying back down. Natasha patted his shoulder before getting up to leave the room, a genuine smile still on her face.


Tony panted heavily against Steve's bare chest as he recovered from their amorous activities. They still had not made it to home base yet, but they had rounded third multiple times and that was more than satisfying enough, at least for now. Tony hummed as Steve ran his fingers through his hair, enjoying the aftermath of what they had just done. His eyes were shut, and he just listened to the sounds of Steve breathing. Tony had to admit, he was feeling a bit worn out after going at it for most of the evening with a Super Soldier. He honestly felt like he was going to fall asleep at any second. However, before he could, he unconsciously found himself asking Steve, "are you afraid?"

"What?" Steve's voice was not nearly as bleary or tired as Tony's, a testament to their vastly different endurance levels.

"Are you afraid?" Tony asked again.

"I don't understand," Steve said. "What do you mean? Am I afraid of what?"

"I don't know…" Tony mumbled to himself. He could feel Steve smoothing over his hair.

"Just get some rest, Tony," he said. "You can ask me about it in the morning."

"Okay…" Without another word, Tony was enveloped by the darkness of sleep.


Thank you to mfaerie32 on FFN for the review! It really means a lot!

Oh wait, I did find something meaningful to say; I'm still not going to write outright smut. Sorry.

Anyways do everything you're supposed to after reading a chapter/story you like. I need to get my brain cells working again.

Remember kids, don't be like me. Get actual healthy amounts of sleep.


Originally uploaded to FFN on 10/11/20.