I had intended to hold off on including anything about Yelena et al., but with the movie still a long ways off and the bits and pieces of information trickling out about the characters...I couldn't help myself.

enjoy.

Tony wakes up and for some reason feels eager to spend time with Natasha. He has no idea why, given he'd just seen her a couple days prior, but the urge to spend time with her and talk hits him like a ton of bricks.

Maybe it's because they are, both of them, affected by the unidentifiable force in the afterlife that loosens the emotional barriers people put up for themselves. He'd doubted the existence of said force when he noticed Nat's seemingly impenetrable barrier still up when they talked, but the more he talked with other people in the afterlife, the more he realized there absolutely was a force. He felt it, with the normal reticence he had when talking about touchier subjects - his feelings, fears, guilt, regrets, to name a few - having weakened substantially. They had shared a few conversations on those more difficult topics and Natasha had indulged him, but he was sure that she hadn't quite let go of her own defences just yet.

Maybe it's because they hadn't spent nearly enough time together in those last years while alive. It was something he had come to regret, especially once he learned she was all alone at the Compound. He'd had no good reason while alive to avoid spending time with her (because holding a grudge that wasn't even really aimed at her was decidedly not a good reason) and he certainly has no reason to avoid being with her now.

Maybe it's because he still feels guilty over pushing his reunion with her aside for the ones with his parents, Yinsen and his family, and Aunt Peggy. He'd somehow momentarily forgotten that he'd be joining her in the afterlife and he still felt bad about it, despite her offering forgiveness in that first conversation.

Or maybe it's because he sees her still grieving and grappling with having lost everyone she loved and cared about in one fell swoop. He knows what it is to give up your chance to be with the people you love...but he'd gotten to see that they would be safe. He'd gotten to see their enemies drift away and the danger disappear. She'd jumped off that cliff believing that they would succeed but not having any guarantee. She'd jumped knowing that her death could have possibly been for nothing.

Whatever the reason, he grabs his phone and calls her before his doubts can dissuade him.

"Hello?"

"Hey." He pauses, hearing somewhat laboured breathing on the other end. "Why do you sound out of breath?"

"I'm running."

"Why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"Well, sort of. There's no need to. We're retired."

"I like running."

He shakes his head in disbelief. "You are an unending mystery, you know that?"

"You need something? You're interrupting my playlist."

He barks out a laugh. "What, got some motivational podcasts lined up?"

"Oh, totally," she replies, and even though the delivery is a bit breathless, the sarcasm is clear. "Followed by some positive affirmations."

He chuckles. "Up for some breakfast after you affirm your positive outlook?"

"Sure. Where were you thinking?"

"Honestly, I hadn't thought that far ahead."

"What a surprise." He can practically hear her eyes rolling with her dry tone.

"You may think you wound me, but you don't."

"Just stating the facts."

"How about I meet you at the Compound? We can squabble over coffee about where to go."

"Did you really just say squabble?"

"Yes. Don't change the subject. Compound, 30 minutes. I'll bring the coffee."

"Sounds good."

"Enjoy your torture."

She doesn't say anything in reply but he hears the tone that tells him she ended the call. A moment later his phone chimes with a notification and he laughs as he sees the middle finger emoji from her. Sure, he would say she was a bit melancholy on the whole, but there were flashes of the Nat he knew before the tensions in the team began, so maybe things were looking up. He sends back a poop emoji for good measure and then heads toward his kitchen figuring it was a perfect opportunity to brush up on his barista skills.

Tony steps up the stairs carefully, mindful to not spill the coffee cups in his hands which he'd already almost dropped on his way up the walkway to the front door. He's grateful for the automatic doors, knowing that he'd never be able to negotiate knocking on a door, let alone opening one with the two coffees in his hands.

"Morning, Tony."

"Ah!" He jumps in surprise at her voice from behind him. "God, Nat. Don't do that!"

She just laughs and walks past him to open up the door to the main common area for them both.

"Seriously. I'm going to put a bell on you," he threatens.

"I'm not a cat," she retorts, glancing over her shoulder as she makes her way over to the kitchen.

He follows her and watches as she begins pulling together the ingredients for a smoothie.

"I brought you expensive coffee and you're blending vegetables?" he says in mock horror as he takes a seat on a stool at the breakfast bar.

"Not just vegetables," she argues. "Besides, I seem to recall you were quite fond of those green drin-"

"Coffee, Romanoff. Expensive coffee," he says, cutting her off and sliding a cup over to her.

She frowns and tilts her head. "Why do you emphasize that it's expensive? Money isn't a thing here."

"It's a descriptor of the kind of coffee, thank you very much." She arches one eyebrow in a silent judgment of his explanation. "Besides, I'll have you know I made these coffees myself."

"Starbucks know you're stepping on their game?"

He scoffs with dramatically widened eyes. "Starbucks? You think I'd drink Starbucks?!"

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at his antics. "Thank you, Tony."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles before taking a sip of his own coffee. "So... thoughts on breakfast?"

"We should have some," she replies with an innocent smile that shifts to a smirk. "You wanna go out somewhere?" she adds after taking a long drink from her coffee and noticing his expression which is reflecting how decidedly unimpressed he is with her sass.

"Actually," he says slowly, a hopeful look entering his eyes, "I was thinking maybe we could eat in."

"You making omelettes?" she retorts, unfazed by his not-at-all subtle insinuation that she could cook for them.

"I was thinking more like pancakes."

"Sounds good. Mix is in that cupboard," she says, gesturing with her coffee cup to point out a cupboard on the opposite side of the kitchen.

"Well, see I was thinking about those little ones you made last time..."

She looks mildly surprised. "The oladyi?"

"I have no idea. You think I listen when you talk?" he replies with a cheeky grin, watching as her surprised expression gives way to an amused half scowl.

"You should if you're asking me to make you food."

He shrugs. "You're just better at cooking than I am."

"I don't know if you've realized this," she says wryly, "but you have an actually endless amount of time here to change that."

He waves his hand dismissively. "Sure, but you held out on all of us for years, Nat. If we'd known you could cook, we would have-"

"Fallen into a predictable and sexist routine of assuming the woman on the team would cook for everyone?"

He stares, unimpressed. "Okay, one - I resent that insinuation. And two - we would have enjoyed you making us some homemade food, yes, but we wouldn't have forced you to make it. Maybe you could've taught Cap some stuff though. Pretty sure the poor guy lived off diner food when he wasn't with us."

She rolls her eyes. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. I made him take cooking lessons."

"What!?" he replies, nearly spitting out his coffee. "This is not information you just drop into conversation casually, Natasha!"

She chuckles. "He wasn't too bad, actually. His main problem was lack of desire to expand his repertoire."

"Yeah, that tracks," he says thoughtfully, figuring the old man would've preferred to stick with the classics.

She shrugs. "Now, breakfast?"

"I thought we settled on the baby pancakes."

"Oladyi," she corrects. "And you decided."

"To-may-to, to-mah-to," he dismisses.

She sighs, apparently having given up on her weak defence. "Mind if I shower first?"

"Please do. Your stench is invading my air space," he replies with a vague wave of his hand.

She walks by him and smacks him on the back of the head on her way out of the kitchen. "Ow!"

"Mind your manners, Stark."

"I brought you coffee!" he protests.

"And you just said I stink."

"Well, yeah," he admits, "but it's not untrue."

"I'm lacing your pancakes with something awful," she threatens with a glance over her shoulder as she reaches the end of the hallway.

"I thought they were oladyi?" he calls. He watches as she holds up a middle finger just as she rounds the corner at the end of the hall and he can't help the chuckle from escaping his mouth.

"How did you learn to make these anyway?" he asks once they're sitting down to eat. The thought had occurred to him that since they were decidedly not American, it wouldn't have been the type of thing she'd learned from Clint's wife, so it must have been from somewhere else.

Nat stays quiet as she spreads some jam over the small pancakes on her plate, her expression thoughtful in a way that makes it seem as though she is debating how much to tell him. But there's a small crease in her brow too, and so he wonders if he's accidentally stumbled onto a sore subject.

Her gaze tips up and he shoots her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. He wants to spend time with her, yes, but he doesn't want to force her to reveal parts of herself. She'd always been a private person, something he tries his best to respect.

"You can tell me to shove it if you want," he offers, trying to ease the heaviness that had settled over her with his question. "One time offer though," he adds cheekily, happy to see it coax a small smile out of her.

She takes another moment to focus on cutting up some of her meal and then takes a bite. He follows suit, opting to spread some jam like she had instead of the syrup he'd had last time, and then cutting it up. He takes a bite and then nods appreciatively. There was just something about them that made them better than the regular pancakes that he was used to.

"It was my mother."

He looks up and meets her gaze, finding a curious expression on her face. It's a mix of uncertainty and warmth, and all at once Tony wonders if she's told anyone this before. Still, he can't help his brow from crinkling in confusion because he distinctly remembers her saying she didn't know her parents. He has no idea what to say in response so he just smiles gently and nods in a silent gesture of support for her to continue.

She pauses to take another bite before she begins to explain. "When I was a kid, the Red Room sent me to the States alongside another girl and two older agents."

Dozens of questions nip at him as he considers which to ask first. He opts to go with the most basic because he knows she started in the Red Room young, but he had never considered she'd be an active part of missions while still an actual child. "How old were you?"

"I'm not sure," she answers with a slight shake of her head. Her expression is neutral enough, though if he were to guess he would assume this was treading into uncomfortable territory for her. "I don't actually know my birthday, so I don't know how old I was," she adds after a slight hesitation.

His grip on his fork and knife tightens and he clenches his jaw in an effort to contain his reaction to that revelation. He knew she hadn't grown up in good circumstances but hearing about it from her in such a neutral tone really drove home for him how bad it had been for her. He grapples with how to respond but she either doesn't see his reaction or takes pity on him and pretends not to notice as she continues.

"We posed as a family in the same neighbourhood as some U.S. government officials. I remember being surprised at how long we were away."

Now he finds his voice. "The agents you were with...were they sleeper agents?"

She shakes her head. "No, we all knew the mission going into it and it wasn't that long term. I think it was about a year."

A year isn't long term?! he thinks while trying to keep his eyes from widening in shock. "What was the mission?" he asks in what he hopes is an even tone.

She pauses again to take another bite and he finds his mind going a mile a minute to try and reconcile what she's telling him. In an effort not to stare he follows her lead and takes another bite.

"We were sent to gather intelligence on the American government and some officials. I don't know specifically what...probably defense strategies if I had to guess."

"And you were just a kid?" he asks because he can't quite wrap his head around that.

What kind of sick people send KIDS to do this? he thinks, but immediately realizes that he already knows the answer. The same kind of people who took kids and trained them to be assassins.

"Yeah," she confirms with a nod. Her gaze had drifted to the window momentarily before she refocuses on serving herself a few more of the pancakes. "I think they overestimated how "fine" we would be with it though, because that year seriously fucked with my head."

He can't help his stare this time because it was such a surprise to him for her to admit something like that. She meets his gaze and offers a little smile. He doesn't fail to notice that it doesn't meet her eyes.

"I'd been in the Red Room for years already then, and all the affection we'd ever gotten was strictly training-based and always transactional in nature. They taught us to crave the approval of our trainers and their words of praise. Then suddenly I was being showered with it for nothing more than simply being there."

Tony nods because again he can't quite find any words. He'd always been bitter about the way his father treated him as a child, but now that he's begun to hear how she'd spent her childhood he feels sick that he ever thought bad things about his father. His childhood had been a piece of cake compared to hers.

"Nat," he begins slowly, trying to be understanding of the fact that she may not have the same impulse to share that he did, "you don't have to tell-"

"It's okay," she interrupts. "I want to."

"Okay," he replies with a nod for her to continue.

"We grew closer over the course of that mission and it changed all of us. It started to feel like we were actually a family. The senior agent was a man named Alexei. He'd been one of the ones given the Russians' attempt at a super soldier serum, and was the only one who hadn't gone mad in the process."

Tony's eyebrows rise at that. He hadn't thought anyone had been successful at replicating it.

"He was firm and very serious most of the time to start but eventually he relaxed around us. I don't think he'd been around kids much, but we seemed to bring out a kindness in him. He and the other senior agent were entrusted with continuing our training, and he was much kinder than the instructors we'd had in the Red Room."

She pauses and smiles wistfully. "I was instructed to make friends with the daughter of one of our targets. Eventually she and I became close enough that I got invited over for a playdate. Of course, it was less about playing and more about gaining access to the house. I smuggled out a few documents I could find and planted some bugs, but the biggest contribution I made was faking a serious injury."

He frowns in confusion. "What?"

She chuckles and Tony finds himself surprised at her levity after her more wistful demeanour. "You should eat those before they get cold," she says with a nod toward his plate.

He glances down dumbly at the small pancakes still on his plate and realizes he'd been so wrapped up in her story that he'd forgotten how hungry he had been. He flashes a guilty smile and begins to cut up the pancakes for himself again as she resumes talking.

"I was playing at their house one day when only the target was home with his daughter. I faked getting hurt so that Alexei could come by to pick me up and get a look inside for surveillance. But I was surprised when he got there because he was so gentle and seemed to be genuinely concerned about me for a moment."

Another pause and another fond smile. Her tone is a surprise to him because it's sentimental in a way he had rarely heard from her. "I still remember the hug he gave me. I knew it was for show but there was a moment where I remember feeling pure relief at being held by him. I'd never had that before and I knew attachments to others were strictly forbidden, so it was completely foreign to me."

Tony swallows as he feels a lump form in his throat. This was the most she had ever shared about herself and it felt like she was baring her soul to him. He still has no idea how to respond but he finds himself respecting her more and more for the fact that she not only survived her childhood, but somehow managed to grow up to be a kind and caring person.

"The woman they sent along, Melina, had been through a bunch of variations on the Red Room training program, and she was...hardened because of it. Maybe it was because she was bitter about how they treated her, or maybe it was the time and distance away from the organization, but eventually she relaxed around us too. It wasn't often, but she would give us these bits of wisdom and knowledge that the Red Room would never have taught us and would serve us well in navigating our way through the program. And sometimes she would let us help make breakfast or dinner."

A bunch of variations? Wasn't one time through hell enough?

"She was the one who taught you to make the oladyi."

She nods. "And then there was Yelena," she says before pausing and then smiling wistfully. "We were bitter rivals eventually but we'd been sisters first. She and I grew pretty close during that year, but when we went back to the Red Room, they made sure to encourage the rivalry between us and we grew apart. By the time I graduated, our relationship was strained but they still had us run some missions together before her graduation. We finally started to remember the time when we hadn't hated each other, but then she went back to the Red Room and I didn't see her again until after I defected. I was in Europe on a mission with Clint and she happened to be on the other side of the street. It was completely by chance that we saw each other, but the look she gave me...it was utter betrayal."

"She was angry that you defected?"

"Yeah, and I don't blame her. I'd been fighting my programming for months when Clint cornered me. If not for him, I'd have never gotten out."

"Was she out?"

She nods. "I found out later that she'd engineered a way out. Alexei helped her and got thrown in a Siberian prison for it."

"Shit."

"Yeah," she exhales.

She seems almost lost in her memories as she tells him about these people, and his earlier thought that she probably hadn't told anyone about them flickers in his mind again. She'd been a lot closer with Steve and Clint but when he'd asked after she died if she had family, Steve had said the Avengers and Clint hadn't disputed it. So, either they were misleading on purpose or they hadn't actually known.

"Did you ever see them again?"

She nods. "After Germany, before I met up with Steve, I knew we would need some supplies to stay under the radar. I had stashed some stuff in Budapest years back, but I'd never gone back because I was pretty sure Yelena had found out and had been using the safehouse."

"But you were cut off from your usual resources so you had to," he surmises, feeling a swell of regret for his sharp and callous words to her back then.

Natasha seems to not be phased by the callback to the uglier part of their history. "Yeah. She did end up being there and it gave us a chance to work out our differences."

"Is that Romanoff for 'kicked the shit out of each other'?"

She chuckles lightly. "Something like that. We came to an understanding and began to rekindle the close relationship we'd had when we were younger. But then she told me the Red Room was up and running again."

"And so, you decided to help take it down."

"I couldn't let them do that to anyone else." He nods in understanding. "But we needed manpower, so we broke Alexei out of prison and found Melina."

"Family reunion, huh?"

"Yeah," she replies with a small smile.

"How'd that go?"

"I didn't know what to expect, but having their loyalty definitely wasn't something I thought I'd get."

Her tone tells him that she perhaps regretted having left them behind. Guess that's why she fought so hard to keep the Avengers together before Germany he realizes.

"And the Red Room?"

"We succeeded in taking it down, but not without casualties."

He blinks, realizing this might be why she looked so wistful while remembering them earlier. "Who?" he asks gently.

"Alexei and Melina took on a huge group to give me and Yelena time to take down the guy who was in control of the Red Room. Even with their skills I knew it was too big a group for them to have survived."

"And Yelena?"

Nat pauses meaningfully and Tony knows then that she'd lost her sister. "She sacrificed herself so I could finish it and get away."

He blows out a breath. "Shit. I'm sorry."

She shakes her head. "I think they may actually have all survived."

He's confused as to how she would know that until it dawns on him. "Because you haven't found them here."

"I asked around. No one's seen them."

"You could look in on the land of the living, see if you could find them," he suggests.

She eyes him critically. "You seem oddly invested in this."

He makes sure to meet and hold her gaze. "It's important to you, so it's important to me."

Her eyebrow arches in a silent question.

"I mean it, Nat," he emphasizes. "I know you and I haven't always been close, but we're here now, and like I told you before, whether you like it or not you're a part of my family. So, if you want my support, you have it."

"Who are you, and where is the Tony Stark I know," she teases.

He's undaunted by her half-hearted attempt at misdirection. "I know you don't particularly like looking in on the world, so if you want a little back-up I can come along."

"Pepper really did change you, didn't she?"

"Nah, it was Morgan," he replies. "And piles and piles of fuck ups over the years," he adds with a grin.

She chuckles. "We've all got some of those."

"Piles of fuck-ups for Natasha Romanoff? I'm gonna need proof of that."

She rolls her eyes in amusement. "Real subtle," she chastises playfully. "You're going to need to do better than that to get any good stories out of me."

"I've got time," he counters while pointing his fork at her. "I'm playing the long game."

She laughs heartily and he grins in return, happy to have picked up the mood again.

"We'll see about that," she says with a smile curling on her lips.

comments always appreciated. always nice to see what y'all think.

thanks as well for your patience. hope everyone's staying safe.

more to come...