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Tuesday, February 7th, 2012

Midtown, Manhattan, New York City, New York

Natasha carefully shot the door behind her as she followed Stark back to his office. She remained silent, pressing her back against the wall while Stark sat down in his office chair and brought a hand up to his forehead. For her part, Nat did not feel all that offended about the things that were said about her during the board meeting. She did not care and had been called much worse before. However, she was feeling slightly shocked, particularly at the way the board had treated Stark and Pepper.

A part of her could not believe it. Although she had worked at Stark Industries previously, nothing like this had ever occurred. She remembered that the board meetings she had attended in that time had been amicable at the very least. However, now looking back she realized that there was always a bit of tension lingering beneath the surface. Perhaps all of this was just that tension boiling over? Something told Natasha, though, that this probably was not the case. Lara had warned her that these board meetings could be a little rough and Nat was certain she would not say that unless there was a reason.

Stark pulled his hand away from his face and scooched his chair closer to the cabinet behind his desk. He pulled back one of the paneled doors to reveal a mini fridge hidden inside.

"I'd offer you something to drink," he said. "But Pepper cleared this place of all alcohol two weeks ago. The strongest thing I can offer you is a bottle of apple juice with a best by date of 10/17/11." Natasha shrugged.

"Why not?" she said. "With any luck it could have fermented by now." She walked over to one of the chairs across from his desk and sat down. Stark, meanwhile, produced two shot glasses from the cabinet (apparently Pepper did not think to take those away,) set them down on his desk, and poured apple juice into each one.

"It's already been opened and there's no yeast, so it can't work," he said. "I know. I checked. Besides, I think it's already been laced with Pepper's backwash…"

"Lovely," Natasha remarked.

"It's this or nothing," Stark pointed out.

"I wasn't knocking it," Natasha said. "I've survived in Siberia with less. A little backwash isn't going to kill me."

"Well, in that case…" Stark pushed one of the glasses towards her while picking up the other one and holding it out. "Cheers."

Natasha raised her glass in kind and clinked it against Stark's before washing the juice down in one go. Not having expected the drink to be as sour as it was, she made a face as she set her glass down.

"Well, that's strong," she remarked. "Like really sour but kind of watered-down wine." Stark nodded in agreement while he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the action obscuring his own soured expression.

"Yeah," he said. "We're going to get sick from this, aren't we?"

"Definitely." Well, technically her enhancements from the Red Room might save her there, but she might as well give Stark the comfort of being in the same boat as her. "That's not going to stop us from drinking it, though."

"Nope." Stark refilled her glass and again, they toasted before washing down the shots of rancid juice. It tasted worse than the first time if that was even possible. Despite that, Natasha schooled her features into something much less reactionary as she set her glass down.

Moving her gaze to Stark, Natasha automatically started analyzing him. His expression was grim yet carried a hint of exhaustion. His eyes were focused on the empty shot glass that he spun around in his hand. He studied it as if it had the answers to all of life's problems secretly engraved upon it. It might as well have, for all the good that would do.

Taking in that information, Natasha calculated how to proceed. Even without the board meeting, there were a lot of things they needed to discuss. She knew where she wanted to start but bringing it up in the correct way was going to be the hard part. Stark had shut down all her previous attempts to discuss the issues they had, and he was liable to do so again. She wanted to have an open, adult, and overall amicable conversation with him and to do so, she had to approach the topic carefully.

"Can you knock it off with the hackney psycho analysis, Romanoff? It's really the last thing I need right now."

Okay, there goes that plan.

"We need to talk." Stark scoffed at that.

"Of course, we do," he said. "Lay it on me Romanoff. If you have anything to say, say it now." Natasha took a deep breath and went back in her mind. She scrutinized every interaction she had ever had with Stark as best she could on such short notice.

"I'm sorry for deceiving you." Stark's eyes widened, but Natasha remained unphased. "I'm sorry for psychologically profiling you without your knowledge. I am sorry for injecting you with drugs without telling you what they were first. I am sorry I let things get so out of hand at that party. I am sorry I tried to stab you when you and Lara tried to wake me up at the hotel. I am sorry I left you at the bar at the Gala. I am also sorry for the way I acted after the bio-terror attack. If there is anything I am missing, just say so now."

Silence filled the room. Stark seemed to be struggling to process the information. His expression was completely blank. Natasha was starting to worry that something might be seriously wrong when he finally spoke up.

"I think Steve's the one you owe that last apology to."

Of course, he misses the point.

"I already apologized to him," she said. "He just said what's done is done and not to let it happen again."

"Figures," Tony said. "Resentment doesn't suit him at all."

"Nor does it you," Natasha said.

"Please," he said. "My middle name could be 'resentment.'"

"Well, that really helps my confidence in apologizing to you." Stark rolled his eyes, but Natasha continued. "We're all a part of the same team. I figured I owed you an apology, too." Stark gave a fake laugh.

"That's funny," he said. "Considering you didn't want me on that team in the first place. I don't suppose you're going to apologize for that?"

"No." Stark tried to jump in and add his own two cents, but Natasha did not allow him to. Not until she finished. "Because I didn't write that report." Stark narrowed his eyes.

"Really?" he said. "And I'm supposed to believe that?" Yes, Natasha understood how absurd it sounded, but she did not let that to affect her resolve.

"Look," she said. "I don't have much in the way of proof. I still have the original document I typed up and submitted to Fury. I can easily get it for you. However, that is still not concreate. The most I can say is that I know someone switched the reports sometime between me handing it in and Fury receiving it. I notified him of it, and he believes me."

"Really?" Stark kept his voice calm and even, giving Natasha little insight into what he was really thinking. "And if it's not the right report – and Fury knows this – why is it still in my file?"

"I don't know for sure," Natasha said. "But in my opinion, Fury left the fake report in there so that way whoever planted it wouldn't be tipped off."

"Right." The way Stark dragged out the word made it clear that he still was not convinced. "So, this was just some elaborate mix-up and you really left a glowing review singing my praises and recommending me for the Avengers. Is that it?"

"No," Natasha said. "I didn't. In fact, I specifically wrote that I could not recommend you for the Avengers Initiative at that time."

"Then what's the problem?" Stark asked. "You got what you wanted. Well, until Fury got desperate."

"No," Natasha said. "That's not what I wanted. It had nothing to do with what I wanted."

"Then what did you want?" Stark asked.

"I wanted you to get help." Stark raised both of his eyebrows. "Specifically, what I wrote was that you were showing some alarming behavioral signs – specifically alcoholism and signs of PTSD and depression. However, I'm not equipped to diagnose you, so I highly suggested that you be evaluated by an actual psychiatrist and only be allowed onto the team once they felt you were capable of handling it."

It once again fell silent in the room. Natasha was not sure whether that was a good or a bad thing. Stark looked like he needed another moment to process the information and she let him have it. Eventually, he started pouring more spoilt apple juice into his shot glass and Nat pushed hers over to be refilled as well. Again, they toasted before knocking back the shots. It still tasted as horrible as it did the first few times, but both did a much better job of controlling their reactions.

"Okay," Stark said as he set down his glass. "Let us say I believe you. You truly had my mental health and safety as your first concern. Why the hell did you let that party escalate like that? Don't try saying that you were drunk, too, because we both know that's bull crap." Natasha sighed.

"First of all," she said. "When I said, 'do anything you want,' I wasn't expecting you to operate under the influence and destroy your house. At best, I thought you would take that as encouragement to run off and elope with Pepper. At worst, I was expecting a massive orgy." Stark shook his head.

"Pepper and I wouldn't have worked out," he said. "We both know that now." Natasha nodded in agreement. "Also, I don't do orgies anymore. Not since Bangkok."

"Oh," Natasha said. "How rude of me to assume."

"Eh," Stark shrugged. "Your assumption was just five years too late."

"Regardless," Natasha said. "I didn't expect that party to take the turn that it took."

"You still let it all happen," Stark said.

"I know," Natasha said.

"Why?" She took a deep breath.

"At first I wasn't sure how serious to take it," she admitted. "I mean, I saw the black marks on your neck, but I didn't think anything of it until you asked me what I would do if I knew it was going to be my last birthday."

"You still could have stopped me from there," Stark pointed out.

"I know," Natasha said. "And there's nothing I can say to justify it. I let myself get carried away and by the time that I put two and two together, things went to shit."

"Understatement of the century," Stark remarked.

"Once I realized how bad things were, though, I did try to fix it," Natasha said, ignoring Stark's skeptical look. "I called Fury, we figured out what was going on, and we got you that temporary fix and the tools you needed to find the cure."

"And we all lived happily ever after, the end." The sarcasm was practically dripping from Stark's mouth. "You never tried to screw me over and we can wrap this up by joining hand and singing a round of 'Kumbaya.'" Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"Are you done with the overt obstinance yet?" she asked.

"No," Tony said. "You still haven't said anything to convince me, so I think it's still justified." Natasha sighed.

"I can get you the original report," she said. "That's the most I can offer you in terms of proof. Everything else, though, you are just going to have to trust me on. I have apologized and told you the truth, and unfortunately that is all I can do. So, can you just meet me halfway and hear me out?" A concerned look crossed Stark's face.

"Hear you out on what?" he asked.

"Your mental health." Stark visibly tensed. "Because we both know that's a topic you can't avoid anymore."

"I'm fi…" He stopped himself, clearly biting down on his tongue to keep himself from saying anymore.

"You can't avoid this anymore," she repeated.

"I know," Stark said. "I know I can't avoid it."

"Then what are you going to do?" To Natasha's surprise, Stark's face fell.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Short of committing myself to the funny farm, I don't know." A pang of sympathy reverberated through Natasha's entire being.

"I know you're not going to like hearing this," Natasha said. "But S.H.I.E.L.D. can help."

"I don't want S.H.I.E.L.D.'s help," Stark said before Natasha even finished speaking; not surprising her at all.

"I know you've had bad experiences," she said. "But they do have a lot of resources. They can help you figure out where to start."

"Thanks for the offer," Stark said. "But I'd sooner take mental health advice from Elron Hubbard himself."

Natasha squeezed her eyes shut. Stark was perfectly sober and yet she still was getting nowhere with him. She could start to feel a headache forming behind her eyes.

"Hit me," she said, pushing her glass forward. Stark nodded and complied, filling his own glass as well. Natasha threw hers back hard and fast, giving her indigestion pains in her chest. She put a hand over her sternum as she looked Stark right in the eyes. "How do I get you to believe me?" she asked. "Please, just tell me. The team needs you to forgive me. I need you to forgive me So please, just tell me how to earn that.

Stark looked back down at the glass in his hand. He had yet to drink his share of the expired drink and seemed to be deciding whether to try pounding it back as he focused on it. However, once he spoke, it became clear that his thoughts ran deeper than that.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I'm not really good at the whole forgiveness thing, especially when it's that bad…" Natasha nodded in understanding.

"I get that," she said earnestly. "I really do." She bit her lip in consideration. "Is there anything you want to know? Anything that could help you to understand?"

Stark was silent for the longest time before he finally asked, "was it at all personal? Did you deny me for the Avengers because you wanted to hurt me, upset me, or teach me a lesson?"

Natasha shook her head and put all the sincerity she could into her voice as she said, "no. It was entirely about your wellbeing."

Stark nodded before knocking the shot back. He picked up the bottle of apple juice to refill it, only to find it was down to the dregs.

"You want the last go?" Natasha shook her head.

"No thank you," she said. "I think I've tortured my stomach enough for today." Stark shrugged and took the last sip for himself before glancing at his watch.

"It's 4:59," he said. "I usually let Conroy go around five." Natasha nodded and stood up.

"Okay," she said. "Thank you for letting me do what I needed to do, and for hearing me out." To her surprise, Stark offered her a small, bitter-sweet smile.

"Thank you for the apologies," he said. "All of them. No matter if I end up accepting them or not… They help." Natasha nodded in understanding. "By the way, I'm sorry you had to deal with that display." She waved it off.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "I have thick skin and their words don't matter to me."

"Yeah," Stark said. "I tell myself that, too."

Natasha frowned for a moment, feeling a bit sorry for him. She started walking towards the door but stopped just as she reached it, realizing that there was still something she needed to say.

"If you are not going to reach out to S.H.I.E.L.D. for help, at least reach out to somebody you trust. Not Steve, but someone who can help you find a professional therapist because you need one." Stark was silent for a long moment before nodding.

"I'll see you at dinner." Natasha nodded in agreement.

"See you at dinner." With nothing else to say, she left the room, gently shutting the door behind her.


Tony could not lie, he felt like he was going to be sick. Whether that was a result of the emotional upheaval of his conversation with Romanoff… Natasha, or because he just drank expired juice, he was not sure. (It was the juice.) However, he did appreciate the fact that she did at least apologize for everything she needed to and took responsibility for it. He could not say that many people even tried to apologize to him for anything serious that they did against him, so it was a nice change of pace.

There was something he absolutely could not say she was wrong about, though, and that was the therapy thing. He could admit to himself that he was not doing well. He had even had a conversation with Steve about it the other day and he tried looking up therapists that one time… However, Steve was not the best person to go to regarding issues revolving around mental health, and even Natasha knew that. Also, he could not trust himself to go through with it, so he needed someone else's support. Someone who knew him well enough to help him find the right help, but also that he could trust to hold him accountable when he inevitably messed up. Right off the bat, he could think of two people who fit the bill, and luckily for him, they were just across the hall.

Before he could change his mind, Tony got up from his chair and went right to Pepper's office – only diverting his course to throw out the apple juice containers and the shot glasses. When he walked in, Pepper and Happy were engaged in conversation, but they abruptly stopped when they took notice of Tony.

"Hey," Pepper said with a note of concern in her voice. "What's wrong?"

Tony took a deep breath before explaining.


Thank you to Codename_R and YueRyong for leaving kudos on AO3! It really means a lot! :)

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Originally posted to FFN on 10/20/22.