Disclaimer: The Avengers, its characters and The Marvel Cinematic Universe belong to Marvel Studios and The Walt Disney Company, among many others. I'm only a fan, writing this for love of this film franchise and personal pleasure.

A.N.: This follows after the last chapter when they're in their early days on the run. If anyone's interested, there's an alternate version of this in the last chapter of Drawing Hope on the Skyline, my birthday fic for Steve Rogers, with a lot more Romanogers.


To Build a Home

15. Who We Are

"Okay. Let's go over it one more time." Natasha shifted her stance slightly as she crossed her arms sternly over her chest, her green eyes with a steely glint of determination as she stared down at the man in front of her. The expression on her face was the one the Black Widow had used when she'd wanted to be her most intimidating and even if she no longer wore her signature red hair but was actually a honey blonde at the moment, it still worked.

Sam gulped down nervously. He knew Natasha was his friend and she only had their best interests at heart, but she could still scare the crap out of him and she was well aware of that fact and using it to her advantage. "Okay." He said, his voice even and quiet as he looked steadily up at her. "Like I said, I was getting breakfast ready when she came out of her room and said she needed to go out for a bit."

"What did she look like? Distressed? Under coercion? Being controlled by someone, somehow?" Natasha asked the questions steadily, her eyes narrowing a little.

"No." Sam shook his head, his palms opening and closing a little helplessly. "She looked… normal. As normal as she's looked since we got here, to be honest. Like she actually had a good night of sleep, for once."

"What were her exact words?" Natasha asked then.

Sam stopped for a moment as he recalled the moment to his mind. "Hey, Sam. Look I need to go out for a bit. Please tell Natasha and Steve not to worry. I'll be okay." He paused and shrugged his shoulders. "That's it."

"That's it?" One of her eyebrows flickered up. "Nothing else?"

"Well, then I tried to ask her more about it and she wouldn't tell me and I wouldn't let her leave like that, so she knocked me out with one of those red tendrils of hers and presumably just walked out the door," Sam elaborated, rolling his eyes a little at the end.

Natasha furrowed her brow. They'd been going over this for a while now, ever since she and Steve had gotten back from their morning run and found Sam knocked unconscious on the kitchen floor of their cottage and Wanda nowhere in sight, but she still felt there was something Sam wasn't telling her, either because he was afraid to share it with her, because he didn't think it was important or because he genuinely didn't remember it at the moment. It was probably the latter as a side effect of being knocked out by the Scarlet Witch.

"Sam," she said, sitting on the chair opposite him at the kitchen table, stretching her arms forward and placing her hands down on the wooden surface, her voice gentle now as she tried a different approach. "Think about it. What aren't you telling me?"

He furrowed his brow, his eyes moving down to the surface of the table and darting back and forth as he thought about it. "Just before she knocked me out, I think she said she was sorry…" He trailed off, then looked back up at her. "She was sorry, but she had to do this. And that she needed to see him."

Natasha inhaled a breath sharply. "Him?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded back at her. "I think she meant Vision." He grimaced almost apologetically then.

"Nat," Steve sighed heavily, removing the hand that had been pinching the bridge of his nose as he let Natasha take lead on this. "Do you have any reason to believe anyone would know where we are?"

She turned sideways on the chair and looked up at him as Steve remained leaning back against the wall, noting how the dark stubble covering his jaw somehow contributed to this graver appearance he'd had since they'd gone on the run and now seemed to match their current mood. They'd only stayed at her safe house outside of Toronto for one night, as Wanda had a nightmare that shook the entire area and they couldn't stay over undetected. After that, Natasha had taken them to a safe house she had on a remote island in Indonesia, seeing as any unwitting tremors caused by the Scarlet Witch wouldn't be too noticeable in that area. They'd been staying there for about a month now, resting and trying to help with her PTSD and to regain control of her powers with limited results so far.

"We're as safe as I could arrange it," she answered him. "But Tony has way better tech than I can afford, and there's no accounting for what Vision can do with that Mind Stone. If anyone can find us, it's them."

"Do you think we should leave?" He asked then, furrowing his brow in concern.

Natasha pursed her lips as she thought about it. She didn't want to put them in unnecessary danger, but they couldn't just leave Wanda behind. She was mad as hell that the younger woman had simply left without giving them any further explanations of where she was going or what she was doing, but she was still her responsibility. They were all her responsibility now.

"Let's give it a couple of days?" Natasha suggested, shrugging her shoulders a little. "If Tony had wanted to find us, he would've come right after the Raft. So far, there's no sign of him, so I'm thinking he's no longer working with Ross, or if he is maybe he's dragging his feet."

As he agreed with her assessment, Steve sighed a little and nodded back at her. He hoped that the words he'd written in that letter had reached Tony. He'd been as obvious as he could without saying the actual words as to what he had been about to do ─ locks can be replaced, but maybe they shouldn't. Meaning, he would break into the Raft, and he hoped Tony would let him take their friends out. He knew it was a long shot, but as they made their escape unhindered, he also hoped this could be the first step towards mending his relationship with the genius inventor someday, somehow. Steve promised he'd be there if Tony ever needed him, and he intended to keep that promise.

"Guys, I'm sorry," Sam said then, grimacing along his words. "I shouldn't have let this happen. I was supposed to watch over her."

They had come up with an agreement that there should always be someone with Wanda, in case she had any nightmares or needed anything. Earlier that morning, Sam had opted to stay in and get breakfast ready while Steve and Natasha went out running. He figured they got restless more often, thanks to their super serums, and could use the activity to release the energy more than he did. Besides, he could never quite keep up with Steve while Natasha always fared a lot better in that department.

"Sam, stop." Steve pushed off the wall even as he shook his head at his friend and walked up to him. "This is not your fault. None of us could take on Wanda if she was really determined to get out of here."

"Yeah, I don't know," the black man still protested with a slight frown. "You have that Captain America voice and those speeches, plus she respects the hell out of you. I'm sure you would get her to stay. And Nat can do just about anything, I doubt you'd let her slip away." He said, turning his eyes to her then.

"She didn't slip away, she knocked you out with one of her spells," Natasha said with a rueful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I don't have any defense against that either. She kicked my ass in Leipzig, if you don't remember. Stop beating yourself up. This is not on you." She reached out across the table and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. She knew she had been tough on him, but she'd needed to get as much information as possible and resorted to all methods she knew.

They finally sat down to eat breakfast, then Sam had felt too restless once he was done eating and decided to go out on his own to walk around and maybe get in his morning run to burn off the nervous energy, promising to stay close by so they could reach him quickly in case of an emergency. Steve and Natasha sat together and reviewed her security system and their resources, mapping out possible places to go to in case they needed to make a hasty getaway.

After handling his own family issues following his coronation ritual and ceremony, T'Challa had contacted Steve and offered them refuge in his country. They'd been going back and forth on the merits of heading to Wakanda versus the risks. They would definitely be better protected there, so they wouldn't need to keep looking over their shoulders so much and Shuri could possibly have the means to actually help Wanda. But they didn't want to leave Indonesia while Wanda was still unstable, as that could put T'Challa and his people in danger. That had left them in a stalemate of sorts, as Sam had tried using his experience as a counselor at the VA to talk to her about the trauma and Natasha and Steve used whatever tools they had to help as well, but she was still suffering from too many nightmares and occasionally losing control of her powers, so they'd stayed put for now.

As the two of them circled back to the same issues they'd already discussed ad nauseam, they paused in their conversation and Natasha noticed the nervous tapping of Steve's foot, how his muscles were stretched taut under his shirt as his arms were crossed over his chest and the worried frown marring his face. She felt her own build up of nervous energy and frustration that almost compelled her to get up and start uselessly pacing the room just so she'd have something to do. She resisted the urge and sighed audibly, running her hands over her face, her fingers then weaving through her blonde hair as she leaned her elbows on the table.

"Nat," Steve said, looking up in concern and reading her movements. "She's gonna be okay. Wanda knows how to take care of herself and Vision wouldn't hurt her."

"I know that, but that doesn't guarantee she's gonna be okay," she retorted readily, her tone calm but her eyes were sharp as she glanced at him. She leaned back on the chair and looked steadily at him for a few moments as she thought things over before finally speaking up again, the words coming out slowly, almost tentatively. "I think we need to come up with a new plan."

Steve looked steadily back at her as well for a moment. "I'm listening. What are you thinking?"

Natasha wondered how to approach this. They hadn't gotten too far into their planning for life on the run other than laying low and getting as far away as possible from the US or Europe to avoid the authorities that were after them. Once they realized how bad was Wanda's PTSD their focus turned on helping her get better as they ignored everything else, but there were other issues going on that she hadn't ignored. She knew that out of the four of them, Steve was having the hardest time adjusting to their new life as outlaws. And even before Wanda's sudden disappearing act she had been thinking they wouldn't be able to stay as they were for too long.

"Do you know why I didn't try to get you a deal with the FBI?" She asked him then, her voice soft.

He took this apparent non-sequitur in stride, giving her something of a rueful smile. "Well, I assumed it was because I was the leader of this small, superhero rebel group and they wouldn't go easy on me to even get me a deal in the first place."

"Yeah, there's that." She flickered an eyebrow up at him and threw him a quick smirk before she continued. "But even with everything that happened, I could've gotten you a deal. A similar one that we got for Clint and Scott, that would require you to be in house arrest wearing an ankle monitor." She paused for a moment as she leaned forward over the table once more. "Even if it were for only a couple of years, I know that would kill you. Not physically, not right away. But slowly, it would kill your spirit and who you are."

"I know what you mean." He nodded solemnly back at her, taking in her words. "And I know that's why you also didn't get that deal for yourself. You'd never sacrifice your freedom like that."

"Exactly." She gave him a small smile back, appreciating how well they knew each other. "Then there's also the fact that you don't deserve to be sitting in jail or in house arrest anywhere. Not back in the US, or in a cottage in Indonesia." She raised an eyebrow at him then.

He narrowed his blue eyes a little at her. "What are you saying, Nat?"

"We could keep laying low." She elaborated, giving him an easy shrug of the shoulders. "I have quite a few safe houses and as you said T'Challa would certainly help us. We could be hidden inside what is apparently one of the best protected countries, basically living a life of luxury. But is that what you want? Would you be able to rest while we ignore the rest of the world?"

"For a while, maybe." He lifted an eyebrow and gave her a rueful smile, but after a moment he became serious once more, shaking his head a little. "But no, not really."

She nodded, as if she'd been expecting this answer all along. "Then what do you want to do?"

Steve looked back at her for a moment, thinking of his answer. "I want to help. In any way I can." He said, letting out a heavy sigh before speaking again, as if the words he would say had an actual weight over his figure. "But I'm no longer Captain America. I've lost the right to carry the shield." He shook his head, his blue eyes looking pained at that notion.

"You're not Captain America. You're Steve Rogers and you're a hero by your own right." She told him, green eyes looking fierce as she gazed unwaveringly back at him. He was so much more than the figure of The Captain and The Shield and she would not let him forget that. "Long before the serum, long before the shield, you were standing up to do what's right and putting your life on the line. You just need to follow your heart."

He smiled slightly at her, feeling warmth spreading in his chest at how sure she seemed to be of her words. "Will you stand with me?"

She returned a small, though genuine smile at him. She hoped that after that moment in the hangar in Leipzig he would never doubt her again and that her reassurance now would stay with him. She would follow him anywhere, anyhow, any way. "Always."