A/N: Spoiler alert for Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Avengers: Age of Ultron, Captain America: Civil War, Ant-Man, and Spiderman: Homecoming.

As always, many thanks go out to CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur for the Beta and Winter-Soldier-88 for the brainstorming.

Note: Not only has my muse been a fickle little scamp, my family has been experiencing a great deal of emotional turmoil that may not get better any time soon. We're into year two of the Year From Hell. Stay tuned for further developments.

**The above mentioned "further developments" have developed into another funeral for the family. My sister-in-law passed unexpectedly. She and my brother were together for 31 years, married for 28. In my opinion, she was a saint to have put up with my family for more than three decades. There are many out there who share that opinion. Love and Godspeed to her.

Namaste,

Sunny

"I will come back to you, I swear I will;
And you will know me still.
I shall be only a little taller
Than when I went."

― Edna St. Vincent Millay, The Harp-Weaver and Other Poems

Winter Soldier

And You Will Know Me Still

Chapter 58

Hoping to mitigate the embarrassment, Christine went on the offensive. "You know better than to disturb me when I working, Kaitlyn."

Her daughter's eyes widened even more. "That was not working, Mom. That was… I don't know what that was, but it wasn't work."

Huffing, Christine picked up the box of cookies and closed the top, using her "mom" voice, "Why are you here?"

Momentarily thrown off, Kaitlyn looked to Emma for help.

"There's a teen lock-in at church tonight, Dr. Bennett. Kait's been so strung out over the audition I asked her to come with me. Pizza, movies, games… chaperones."

The last was obviously tacked on as an inducement for Christine to say yes. She agreed with Emma that Kaitlyn needed a way to destress. This lock-in could be just the thing.

Kaitlyn took a pleading step forward. "Please, Mom? I'm going out of my mind waiting for the ballet mistress to call back."

Christine had already made her decision. She knew the church and some of the parents. "Go, and have a good time. Call if you need anything."

The girls nearly squealed as Kaitlyn gave Christine a quick hug. "Thanks! See you after breakfast."

When they'd finally gone, Christine let out a relieved breath and flopped into the chair with her legs hanging over the arm. The song and dance had done their work. What Dr. Banner had said in his lecture was coming through loud and clear. Now all she had to do was integrate it into the new programming and… "Bob's your uncle."

Christine laughed at herself and moved back to the computer. "What can I say? I'm still dangerous, but fun."

Singing under breath, she got back to work.

Oops, I did it again
I played with your heart, got lost in the game
Oh baby, baby
Oops, you think I'm in love
That I'm sent from above
I'm not that innocent

~~O~~

What Christine didn't see was Emma peeking through the window with a thoughtful stare. Then, Kaitlyn grabbed her arm and together, the girls ran across the yard to the house. At the back door, Emma cast one last glance at the office and followed her best friend inside to help her pack.

In Kaitlyn's bedroom, Emma sat on the foot of her bed as she walked back and forth, her constant chattering going in one ear and out the other. She made the odd comment so she would appear to be listening.

"Emma, you're not listening, are you?"

Kaitlyn's exasperated huff cut into Emma's bubble of concentration. "Always. But just in case I heard you wrong, say it again."

Kaitlyn dropped a tube of moisturizer into the overnight bag on the vanity. "You're sure Bobby will be there tonight?"

"I am. Told me himself." Emma pocketed her phone and stood. "Just don't try to wander off. My mom's one of the chaperones and she's got an eagle eye." She snagged the overnight bag and motioned at the door. "Let's go. Mom's making snacks and we're gonna help."

HavenCorp

Newark, New Jersey

Natasha entered HavenCorp through the employee entrance. However, she had dressed as herself instead of her Charlotte Newberry persona. She smiled brightly at the mailroom supervisor. "Good morning, David."

Eyes on his computer, David muttered a distracted, "Morning, Charlotte." His eye flicked down to the time. "You're late."

"Actually, I'm right on time." She let the tone of her voice get David's attention, and it worked. He looked at her, eyes widening in surprise at the change in her appearance. "Today's my last day." One side of her mouth turned up. "Give Greg my regards. He's going to be in the mailroom for a long, long time."

Natasha dropped the badge with her AKA's info on the desk and replaced it with another that had her real name and photo. With a smirk, she went to the lifts and rode up to the security office to turn in her report. She'd already been paid for the job. All that was left were a few loose ends.

Two hours later, the head of security walked Natasha to the door, they shook hands, and parted company, musing that, if she never came back to Jersey again, she could die happy.

~~O~~

With the op wrapped up nice and tight, Natasha returned to the apartment to pack. As she approached, she saw that the door was ajar. Taking out one of the Makarovs, she carefully opened the door the rest of the way and darted inside, eyes taking everything in, finding nothing out of place. Then, the toilet flushed, the water came on and off again, and the door opened. Clint came out drying his hands on a towel, unfazed by the weapon in her hand. "You're home early, honey. I haven't even started dinner." Their eyes met over the weapon. "Is this how you usually treat guests?"

Natasha put the safety on, and placed the weapon on the bar counter between the kitchen and the dining room. "Guests wait to be invited. They don't commit burglary."

Clint crossed his arms. "Burglary involves trespassing with the intent to commit a crime. I let myself in so the neighbors wouldn't call the cops. That's hardly a crime."

She snorted at her best friend. "Why are you here, Clint?"

He followed her into the kitchen, watching while she made coffee. "Good news, bad news." Clint opened doors until he found cups. "Dooney and Kiba are getting married."

Grinning over her shoulder, Natasha opened another cabinet and took down a bag of Oreos. "Not surprised. When's the big day?"

"That brings us to the bad news." He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms and staring at his feet. "Laura has to have a partial hysterectomy next week. When she's recuperated, we're having the wedding at the farm. Just family and a few close friends. You're invited."

"Laura's strong and healthy, Clint. She'll be fine."

Clint looked like he wanted to pace, but the kitchen was too small. He settled for rubbing the back of his head. "I know. It's just… I'd feel better if Cho checked her out."

"That would mean letting one more person in on your secret. Are you prepared for the backlash?"

"Do I want one the hottest scientists I know to find out the reason I've turned down all of her not-so-subtle dinner and drink invitations is because I'm married with three kids, a farm, and a vineyard?" He shifted his feet and pushed a hand through his hair making it stand up. "If it means my wife gets the best care anywhere, absolutely."

Natasha gave him a nudge with her elbow. "I can talk to Cho, if you want. Tell her Laura's a friend. You won't even be mentioned." She gave him a moment to think it over, adding, "I'll stay with her the whole time."

Clint wavered then reluctantly nodded. "I'll see what she says." He poured them each a cup of coffee and carried it out to the living room while Natasha brought the cookies. "Thanks."

Natasha took a cookie and passed the bag to Clint. "That's what best friends are for."

Plovdiv, Bulgaria

Shifting around to get comfortable on the cot in a corner of the barn, Bucky wondered what Natasha was doing at that moment. Bulgaria was six hours ahead of New York, and if he had to guess, she was either sitting down to a late dinner, working out, or beating up a dozen or more bad guys, only a hair or two out of place.

He stared out the window at the moon reflecting on the windshield of the battered truck in the yard. The old couple who owned the farm were nice enough, yet treated him as what he was, a down-on-his-luck stranger passing through town that they didn't completely trust. They fed him and gave him a place to sleep, and in return, he helped with the chores.

In town, Bucky was greeted cordially, but again, with some wariness. They obviously didn't get many non-locals coming through asking for a handout.

Rolling onto his back, Bucky made the decision to move on the next day or so, heading in whatever direction suited him, as long as it wasn't back the way he'd come. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he let out a long sigh, wishing Natasha was with him.

Stark Tower

Manhattan

The Next Morning

"Yes, it was me." Friday's avatar, in miniature, stood on the holotable in the common area waiting for Sam and Steve to respond. "Nothing to say?"

Steve crossed his arms. "Why?"

An armchair appeared behind the AI. "Why make the spider suit and give it to the boy?" She took a seat and crossed her knees with a self-satisfied smile. "Originally, it began as an exercise. A way to reach beyond my programming. And sue me, but once it was done, I felt the need to see my creation in action." The men shared a look, and she quickly assured them, "I won't be moving my program into a life-model decoy or taking over the world, if that's what you're thinking. I'm happy working for the boss."

"We weren't thinking that." Steve looked over at Sam, who was staring at Friday's image thoughtfully. He used his voice to admonish his friend. "Were we, Sam?"

With a sheepish shrug, Sam added, "What would it hurt? She could still work for Stark. As a life-model decoy, she'd have the opportunity to experience the world the way we do, instead of being on the outside looking in."

The AI huffed at both men. "No offense, gentlemen, but no thanks." She waved to indicate her "environment" within the SI operating system. "Here, I can be whomever I want, change my look with a mere thought, travel anywhere in the world, or even off-world, in the blink of an eye."

To end the subject and get everyone back on track, Steve took a step forward, bringing Friday's attention back to him. "We didn't come here for a debate. The boy has been involved in several high-profile disasters and interfered with Agent Romanoff's current mission. All we need is for you to get us his itinerary for the next couple of days so we can talk to him."

Friday snapped her fingers and both phones beeped. "Done. Anything else?"

"Did I not get the meeting memo again?" All three faces turned toward Natasha dressed in a sports bra and Capri leggings as she helped herself to a cup of coffee. "Who's turn was it to bring the donuts?"

"No meeting." Steve grabbed his jacket, pulling it on as he went to the lifts with Sam at his side. "On our way to have a few words with Spiderman."

Until that moment, Natasha had presented them with her usual genial smile. It left as if it had never been. "Leave him alone. He saved my life. We can afford to cut him some slack."

Steve came toward her, stopping at the top of the steps. "No, we can't, Nat. He's reckless, and some day innocent lives will be lost because of it."

She closed the distance between them. "Oh, you mean like what happened in Sokovia?" She shook her head. "There's a better way to handle this than a stern lecture."

"Like what?" Sam wanted to know.

"He needs practice. We could make him an Avenger."

Uncertain if she was joking or not, Steve let his breath out in a loud huff. Without responding, he quickly strode over to the lifts and pressed the down button, and she dogged him the whole way. The door opened; he and Sam got on, and the door closed between them.

~~O~~

Tapping her foot, Natasha called out, "Friday, you know the identity of our little spider boy?"

"I do, Agent Romanoff. Why?"

Natasha worried at her lower lip with her teeth for a moment, thinking. "No reason. Send me everything you have on him, including known associates and family going back at least three generations."

"You'll have it before your workout is over."

"And when Steve and Sam get back, let me know, but keep it just between us girls." Natasha didn't wait for Friday's compliance. She gulped down her coffee, grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and took the stairs to the gym.

The Bronx

That Night

Sitting on the parapet of a tall building, his mask lying next to him, Peter watched as the fire department put out the last of the apartment fire. Soot was smeared randomly over the suit and on his face. His last check of the burning building confirmed that he'd found the last two occupants.

He coughed and rubbed his eyes. The roof access opened and closed, followed by the heavy tread of two pairs of feet. His senses didn't tingle, telling him there was no danger.

"Welcome to the next episode of Peter Screws the Pooch." Sam's voice held a note of disappointment as the footsteps stopped a few feet away.

Steve added his frustration with Peter's actions. "We told you to stay out of this. You interfered with a mission, Peter. That can't keep happening."

A bit fearful that he might have caused trouble, he asked, "Is everyone okay?"

"No thanks to you," Sam interjected.

Moving a step closer, Steve softened his stance, and that put Peter even more on edge. "Leave the superhero business to those who're trained for it, Peter. You're only fifteen years old…"

"Almost sixteen."

Steve waved a hand to silence him. "I need you to not just hear, but to listen. Chasing the Vulture and his men was dangerous, and not just for you. Innocent people could've been killed, and that would've been on you. And if you had died when the ferry broke apart…"

Peter jumped on what sounded like a loophole. "But I didn't! No one died. The Coast Guard saved everyone while I held it together. That's gotta count for something, right?"

Crossing his arms, Sam moved next to Steve. "You don't understand. If you hadn't gone after this Vulture guy, the people on the ferry wouldn't have been in danger."

Steve picked up the story. "We saw the videos. The Vulture and his men would've taken what they wanted and left, but then you showed up and he had to come up with an escape plan on the fly."

Chagrinned, Peter looked down at his feet, muttering a soft, "I'm sorry."

"Well, sorry don't cut it, kid," Sam told him, pointing at the mask. "Give us the suit."

Shocked, Peter shook his head. "No-no-no! You-you can't. Please." He tapped his chest. "You don't understand. This is all I have. I'm nothing without the suit."

"If you're nothing without it, then you shouldn't have it," Steve pointed out as Sam picked up the mask.

Sam shot Steve a side-eye. "Dude, you sound like my dad."

Peter made one last attempt to dissuade them. "I-I don't have any other clothes."

Parker Apartment

Queens

Head down, Peter slowly walked down the hallway to his apartment, ignoring the stares here as he had on the subway and the street. He'd hoped that my telling Steve and Sam he didn't have a change of clothes that they'd let him keep the suit. No such luck. Sam had ducked into a thrift shop and came out with a bag, which he threw at Peter. Now, here he was, wearing pink Hello Kitty pajamas, a New Jersey Devils t-shirt that was miles too big, and a pair of green crocs.

He knocked on the door, and May answered immediately. "Hey," he whispered as he ducked past her into the apartment.

She inhaled deeply, closed the door, and stormed into the living room behind him. "I've been calling you for hours. You didn't answer the phone. You can't do that, Peter." To get herself under control, she turned and faced the other way. "I called the police and your friends."

Reaching out to touch her shoulder, Peter thought better of it and let that hand drop to his side. "May, I'm okay. Just relax. I'm fine." He stumbled back a step when she whirled around to face him. She was angrier than he'd seen her in a long time.

"I know you've been sneaking out at night." May huffed at his surprised jaw-drop. "What? Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

His heart dropped to his stomach, his eyes tearing up at the look on her face. "I'm sorry I made you worry."

May took his hand, leading him to the sofa. She hugged him close. "I'm not trying to ruin your life, Peter." He felt and heard her smile. "I used to sneak out too. Got grounded. A lot." She sniffed his hair. "Go take a shower, buddy. You smell like burnt rubber."

Helen Cho's Lab

Two Days Later

The sun had barely shown itself when Natasha and Laura stepped out of the elevator into a long corridor with security scanners next to the doors on both sides. The only room occupied at the moment was the first lab on the right. Natasha tapped on the window, and waved to Cho.

Natasha went through the security procedure, and ushered Laura inside. "Dr. Helen Cho, this is my friend Laura Hagen."

Cho looked up just long enough to see Laura's face then turned back to her computer without offering to shake hands. "I've been going over your medical records, Ms. Hagen, and I'm pretty sure we can help you." She motioned to one of her assistants. "Paul will take you to your room where you can change into a gown."

Laura looked at Natasha, and she gave her a confident smile. "I'll be right here, just like I promised."

"Thanks, Nat."

~~O~~

In the hospital room, Natasha flicked her eyes around letting Laura know they were being monitored. "Cho is a bit brusque, but she's the best at what she does."

The nurse, introduced as Paul, stood just inside the door. "Take off your watch and jewelry. Even your wedding ring. Have your eaten anything today?"

Laura shook her head, hands lying on her stomach. "Not since dinner last night. Only water to drink since midnight."

"Good. We need blood, skin, saliva, hair, and a urine sample. A tech will be in soon for all but the urine. The cups and instructions are on the table."

The door closed behind Paul, leaving Natasha alone with Laura. "I'll wait outside." Again she gripped her friend's hand. "It'll all be over soon."

Laura crossed her fingers.

Later That Night

Cho came into the room with her eyes glued to a tablet, yet somehow managed not to run into anything.

Sitting up in bed, Laura clasped her hands together on top of the covers. "What's the verdict, doctor?"

"All of our tests have confirmed your doctor's original diagnosis." The geneticist finally looked up. "The good news is we can enhance the structure of your uterus so that it won't have to come out."

"And the bad?"

"It will be an inert organ. You will no longer have a cycle and will be unable to bear more children."

Relieved, Laura let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Though she hadn't said a word, Natasha was at her side, providing a calm presence. "That's not a problem, doctor. My husband and I aren't planning on having another child."

"Your ovaries are still in good condition, though there is the possibility that the treatment may send you into premature menopause. If that happens, we could attempt a similar treatment that would allow the ovaries to continue to produce hormones naturally, eliminating the need for hormone replacement therapy." For the first time, Cho smiled, and it changed everything about her, making her seem younger, and more approachable. "If you agree, Paul will have you fill out the forms, and sign all the necessary documents, including a non-disclosure agreement."

"Where do I sign?"

"The treatment will take an entire day, but don't worry. We'll start after breakfast, and take breaks every hour or so. Dinner has been ordered for you and Agent Romanoff. If you need it, Paul will bring you something to help you sleep."

With that, Cho turned and left the room.

Natasha paced to the end of the bed. "Sure you want to do this? It's not too late to back out."

"You trust her, so I do too."

Behind her words, Laura knew Natasha understood what she couldn't say. "I'm going to make a phone call. I'll be back before dinner arrives."

The Next Day

The machine looked like an exam bed with a curved bar over it. Tracks down both sides allowed the bar to move so that the beam could be focused on any part of the body.

Laura lay on her back with her lower abdomen exposed. As the blue white light played over her skin, her eyes kept darting around the room, taking in the futuristic-looking equipment. Natasha didn't know what most of it did. Laura couldn't possibly understand it all herself.

Natasha admired Clint's wife and her ability to be so calm, and trusting in the face of her medical condition, and the fact that soon, she would be cured almost as if by magic. They both knew that was ridiculous. Clarke's third law summed it up perfectly: Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

It was science, not supernatural. Just because Natasha and Laura, and most of the world, didn't understand it didn't mean squat. The last time Natasha watched the machine do its job, Cho was healing the wound Clint sustained while going up against Von Strucker and his minions. Pietro's interference had caused Clint to be shot, though Natasha was certain it hadn't been his intention. When the Maximoff twins joined forces with the Avengers to defeat Ultron, she'd gotten to know them a little better. In the end, Pietro had given his life for Clint and the boy.

There was a commotion in the hall, but before Natasha could investigate, Clint burst into the room, his eyes desperately searching. He saw her and rushed to her side. "Nat where's…"

"What's going on?" Cho demanded in that firm, yet almost little girl voice. "We're in the middle of something, Agent Barton." She waved to the guards. "Show him out."

Two armed guards glared at Clint, but didn't move. Both knew his reputation, and didn't want to tangle with him. Not here where the possibility existed that they would damage delicate and irreplaceable medical equipment.

"I'm not leaving." His voice was low and dangerous, daring the guards.

Natasha flashed her SHIELD badge identifying her as a senior agent with a level eight clearance, same as Clint, Steve, and the rest of the Avengers. "I'm going to have to ask you boys to step outside."

They shared a look with Cho, who reluctantly nodded. Going to the computer, Natasha turned off the audio and video feeds. What was coming wasn't for everyone's ears.

Laura surprised them by calling to him. "Stand down, Hawkeye."

She reached out, and he came to her, holding her hand, and stroking her hair. He glanced at Cho, who was obviously confused, at Natasha, and back to Laura. "I couldn't let you go through this alone, honey."

"Ms. Hagen, you must remain still while the cradle does its work."

"Sorry." Clint kissed Laura's forehead, and she smiled with affection. "Who's with the kids?"

For one of the few times since she and Clint met, he seemed embarrassed, giving all three women a sheepish grin. "Mary Ellen had to go out of town, so I called a friend to stay with them."

Laura's expression changed to something close to fear. "Don't say it. Please don't say it."

Clint rushed to reassure her. "It won't be like last time, honey. Promise."

"That's what you said the time before that, and you know what happened."

He flashed that charming and pride-filled smile Natasha had first seen the day they met. "It's not just Stark this time. He has Rogers and Wilson helping out. And you know how good Rogers is with the kids. Stark too."

Butting into their conversation, Natasha grinned. "That's because Tony has the mentality of a child."

Laura's mouth dropped open, and closed with a snap. She was beaten and knew it. There was also nothing she could do about it under the circumstances.

Cho moved to the other side of the cradle, and in the scientist's eyes, Natasha could see the she'd come to the correct conclusion, but needed verbal confirmation. "Will someone please tell me what's going on? Why are you here, Agent Barton? What kids are you talking about?"

Clint nodded to Laura, and she reached up to touch his cheek. He covered that hand with his own. "The kids are ours. Laura's my wife."

The Office of Dr. Kyle Moss

Pediatric Oncologist

Rubbing eyes tired from staring at a computer screen, Kyle Moss sat back in his chair, feeling every minute of his fifty-three years settle on his shoulders. As a pediatric oncologist, he was used to giving bad news to the parents and guardians of his patients, but that didn't make it easier. However, in his lengthy career, he'd never encountered this particular situation before.

With a heavy sigh, Kyle reached for the phone to make a call no one should ever have to make. "It's Kyle… I've just received the results of the latest round of tests and… Yes, as soon as possible… No, just you… In one hour? That'll be fine."

He hung up the phone, pulled the tablet to him, and scrolled back to the beginning of the lab reports.

~~O~~

"What's going on, Kyle?" Christine demanded as her son's doctor closed the door. He didn't respond except to motion for her to follow him out another door, down the hall, and into an unoccupied lab.

"Thanks for coming so quickly, Chris. I wouldn't have bothered you unless it was important." He led her to the farthest corner to where he already had images and graphs displayed on the large plasma screen on the wall. She took the seat he indicated while he poured them each a cup of coffee and returned. "As you can see, these are Eli's most recent test results."

Kyle put on his glasses, sipped coffee, and put the cup aside. "At first, I thought the lab had made a mistake." A humorless chuckle came out. "I made them do the tests again then, I did them myself just to be sure."

"Kyle, please tell me what's going on," Christine kept her voice steady with difficulty.

"I'll let you have a look, see if you come to the same conclusion without any preconceived ideas from me."

Puzzled, but willing to go along with her long-time friend, for the moment at least, Christine waded into the information, knowing only that something unusual had set Kyle off on a wild tangent, and it had to do with Eli. As a researcher, she had to look at the data objectively, and though it involved her son, she could do it.

Forty Minutes Later

Christine stood there staring at the screen, a hand over her mouth, barely able to grasp what she was seeing. "Kyle…" He touched her on the shoulder, and because she needed comfort, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, squeezing tight. "When?"

"There's no way to know." He urged her out of his arms and into a chair and went to pour her another cup of coffee. "I can make an educated guess, based on what I know about Eli's form of cancer, when he first exhibited symptoms, and its progression. With both of us working on the answers, a cure is bound to show itself soon. I'm convinced of it. Yet the one inescapable fact is…"

Huddled inside a borrowed lab coat, Christine finished his thought. "Someone purposely infected my son with cancer."

TBC