While Natasha had been slightly annoyed at her mothers 'grounding' her in order to ensure she takes the time to heal from her injuries following the Battle of New York, she was really rather grateful for it too. If not for her mothers' edict that she stay with them, she would have been back out there despite the pain from her bruised ribs, sprained ankle, and battered body. She was grateful for the excuse her mothers had given her to take the time off for herself, to cope with what she experienced, without feeling too much guilt for being cozy on the sofa watching daytime television. Most of the news channels and network channels were playing and replaying footage from the Battle. Natasha had spent some time watching it, analyzing the things she'd done and didn't do, things she could have or should have done differently. Tony had done something, she wasn't sure what, to conceal her identity, something else to be grateful for, but even though she didn't have to see herself in detail in the footage they did keep talking about the Black Widow. Once she'd had enough of the news cycle, Natasha flipped through the channels until she landed on the classic cartoon channel and then settled into the sofa for a mid-morning nap.
The knock at the door that startled Natasha awake came as a surprise. She knew it wasn't Fury, or anyone from SHIELD, because they had their hands full and Fury would never go against her Mum's orders. It wouldn't be Sharon or Tony, who wouldn't have knocked because they have keys. It might be Steve, she thought as she pushed herself off the sofa with a grunt, her arm going across her core as she moved towards the foyer. While he respected her mothers enough not to ask her to come back to work, he might stop by to check on her. Clint had stopped by yesterday and hung out for awhile, so it wasn't like Natasha was on complete lock down.
When she opened the door to find May standing there Natasha lit up. They had been texting and talking over the phone for the last few days, but Natasha was really starting to miss being in May's presence. "Hi." Natasha greets her girlfriend with a radiant smile. "I was hoping you'd be brave enough to stop by." She chuckled as she invited May in. "The Natasha embargo only applies to work people, not girlfriends."
May gently wrapped her arms around Natasha, needing to feel her body safe and whole pressed up against her own, if even for a moment. Like everyone else in New York, and around the world, she had watched the whole thing unfold on live television. But unlike the rest of the world who was watching the birth of a new team of superheroes fight alien invaders, she'd been watching her girlfriend, the woman she loved, put her life at risk over and over again.
"Hey," Natasha said gently as she tightened her hold on May when she felt the other woman's body begin to tremble. "May, I'm alright, love, I'm ok." When May pulled away from her Natasha looked into her eyes as she reached up to hold May's face in her hands. "I'm just a little banged up, babe, but I'm alright I promise."
May's response was to pull Natasha into a long, slow, kiss. When it came to an end, she pressed her forehead to the redhead's, and breathed out a slow breath. She closed her eyes and soaked in Natasha's warmth, her scent, and then she pulled away. "Are your mothers here?"
Natasha shook her head. "Running errands."
The last few days had not been easy for May. Her heart and mind were in turmoil. Everytime she closed her eyes she saw Natasha fighting those things, and she'd be flooded with fear. It was a deep, bone aching, fear that she just couldn't shake. "Can we talk?"
"Of course." Natasha replied, her heart suddenly aching in her chest as she took in the expression on May's face. Taking the brunette's hand, Natasha led May into the living room and over to the sofa. She tossed her blanket and pillows onto her Mum's chair, and then eased herself down before gently tugging on May's hand to sit beside her.
"You're incredible." May begins as she looks at Natasha, their eyes locked, as her hands fidget in her lap. "You helped save us all from something unimaginable, Natasha. You stood side by side with men who can fly and lift buses and punch space whales in the face, and you did it without any kind of super power or super suit. You saved so many lives, Natasha."
Despite all the wonderful things May was saying Natasha's heart was slowly sinking to her stomach. It was the way May was saying it, the look in her eyes, the nervous tremble in her fidgeting hands. Whatever May was about to say next, Natasha knew she wasn't going to like it. "May?"
"I love you." May says as tears well in her eyes and then spill over her lashes. "Natasha, I do, I love you." She pauses, pain exploding across her face. "But I'm not strong enough to do this. I thought I was. I wanted to be, more than anything, I wanted to be." Her voice hitches and she looks away from the hurt she sees blooming in Natasha's eyes. "I thought I could do this because I do love you, Natasha, but I can't, I'm sorry, I... I just can't."
"May." Natasha breaths out. It feels like she's just been sucker punched in the chest by one of those alien creatures again. "May, please, don't…"
Before Natasha can say anymore May is kissing her again. It's a kiss that says I love you, I'm sorry, please forgive me, and I'm afraid. Natasha was in shock, her emotions running wild, her thoughts caught up in a stampede. By the time Natasha realizes the kiss has ended and she opens her eyes, May is already standing and walking away. For a moment Natasha isn't sure what to do, leave May to walk away because of her fear, or go after her and try to reassure her and make promises she isn't able to keep? By the time she makes up her mind to go after May, the other woman's already walking out the door.
"May!" Natasha calls after the other woman as she shoots to her feet and ignores the pain ripping through her body. "May wait! May!"
Tears stream down May's face as she closes the door behind her, walks down the steps of the brownstone, and gets into her car and pulls off.
"We're back, angel." Angie calls out as she and Peggy walk into their home. They're both carrying shopping bags, Angie's full of food so she starts off towards the kitchen, while Peggy's were household items she would take upstairs. When there's no reply from Natasha neither think much of it, she could be in the bathroom or upstairs napping. It isn't until Angie's putting things away and she notices the basement door open that she becomes concerned.
The back corner of the basement had tumble mats on the floor, a ballet bar bolted to the wall, and a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. As Angie made her way down the stairs she could hear the distinctive sound of someone hitting the bag. She frowned, concern and annoyance warring inside her. Natasha knew she needed to be resting, not working out. As she approached, Natasha's back was to her, so she couldn't see the tears on her daughter's face or the blood seeping through her bandages and into her t-shirt from popped stitches. Putting her hands on her hips, Angie scolds, "Natasha Elizabeth Carter, what the hell do you think you're doing, young lady?"
Natasha stops at the sound of her mother's voice but she doesn't turn around. She stopped the swaying bag she'd been hitting as she tried to sort out her thoughts and feelings, and then leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the leather. She can't seem to make the tears stop, or the burning ache in her chest go away, and now her body raged against her, bruised muscles and torn stitches screaming at her in pain.
Something was wrong. Angie rushed towards her daughter, all annoyance wiped away. "Angel?"
The sweaty redhead turns slowly and then sinks to the floor.
Angie holds back a gasp at the blood staining Natasha's shirt, her heart breaking at the crushing look on her little girl's face as she drops down. Angie falls to her knees beside her daughter, reaching for Natasha to draw her into her arms. "Natasha, baby, what's wrong?"
"It was too much for her." Natasha says as she curls into her mother's embrace. "Being an Avenger was just too much for her."
"For who, baby?" Angie asked, her heart clenching at the obvious answer. There was only one person who could have put Natasha into a state like this.
"May." Natasha confirms.
Angie tightens her hold as Natasha presses her face into her shoulder and cries. "Oh angel." She breathes out as she holds her baby girl and gently starts to rock them a bit as she drops kisses on top of Natasha's head. Of course she wanted the whole story, but the first thing she needed to do was get Natasha upstairs so Peggy could look over her injuries. "Baby, you're bleeding, you must have popped some stitches. Let's go upstairs so Mummy can take a look, ok?"
The bleeding is bad enough that when Natasha pulls out of her mother's arms she can see blood on Angie's shirt from where it had seeped through her own. Her blue-green eyes go a little wide at the sight of it. "I'm sorry, Ma."
Angie looks down and swallows her panic. "It's alright, angel, it's an old shirt. Come on, sweetheart," She starts to stand, helping Natasha as best she can. "Let's get Mummy to have a look." Once they're standing, she hugs Natasha and kisses her forehead before leading her up to the kitchen, and sitting her on a stool. Careful not to use a tone that would panic her wife Angie calls out, "Peggy!"
Decades of marriage have trained Peggy to know the differences in Angie's voice and she knew that tone meant to come quickly, so Peggy stopped what she was doing and headed for the kitchen. When she walked in and saw Natasha, saw the pain in her eyes, the tears on her flushed cheeks, and the blood on her shirt, Peggy was astonished that Angie's voice had been so calm. "What happened?"
"Someone's popped some stitches I think." Angie replied as she looked into her wife's big brown doe eyes. "I'll get your first aid kit, while you look over the damage."
Peggy nods as she crosses the room to her daughter. "Let's have a look, poppet." She said gently as she helped Natasha take off her shirt. From Angie's tone, and the state Natasha was in, Peggy knew that this wasn't just Natasha being stubborn and doing things she shouldn't have been doing. Her daughter was in pain, and not just physically. "What's happened, my darling?"
"May and I broke up." Natasha tells her Mum. Her voice is ragged and small, it cracks on May's name, and fresh tears well at having said the truth of it out loud.
Peggy doesn't even try to hide her shock. She had watched the two young women together, she knew how much they loved each other, and how hard they were working towards building a life together. She would never have expected this, but given May's past loss, maybe she should have. "What happened, love?"
"The Avengers happened." Natasha said honestly, anger, pain, bitterness and understanding warring it out in her voice. "I guess she was alright loving an agent of SHIELD, but loving the Black Widow is too much for her."
Peggy repairs the popped stitches, and she and Angie do their best to be there for their daughter as she processes what happened. Angie wants to storm Queens and shake some sense into May Parker, but Peggy won't let her. As hard as it is to sit back and do nothing, as badly as they both want to fix this and make it right for their daughter, this is something they have to let Natasha deal with herself.
And Natasha tries, she really does, she even goes as far as to tell May's voicemail that she'll give up the Avengers, take a desk job at SHIELD, but May won't ask that of her. So Natasha respects May's choices, and to make things easier on everyone she calls Tony, tells him she's moving into her apartment in the tower full time, and asks him if he'd send someone to pack up and move her things from the apartment in Queens while she stays with her mothers. Of course Tony agrees.
Peter's running up the stairs when he hears loud voices and noises on Natasha's floor. He hasn't seen her since before the attack on New York, and now May's super sad because they broke up. May tried to explain, told him that it was her decision to end things, not Natasha's. He didn't understand, he knew they made each other happy, and he didn't understand why Natasha being a hero was a bad thing. When he looks down the hallway towards Natasha's apartment he sees men in jumpsuits with the Stark logo on the back moving things out, her sofa, her tv, boxes, Goose's cat trees. Peter watches for a moment and then continues running up to his and May's floor.
"Aunt May!" The boy calls out as he busts into their apartment. When she comes out of the kitchen Peter grabs her hand and starts pulling her towards the stairs.
"Peter." May says, worried and jarred by the boy's actions. There are tears on his cheeks and it pains her to see them. "Peter, honey, what's wrong?"
He takes her to Natasha's floor and points. "They're taking Nat's stuff, Aunt May! Why are they taking her stuff? Where are they taking it?"
"Oh." May sighs, her heart squeezing painfully in her chest. She puts her hands on Peter's shoulders as they watch the men moving Natasha's things out and she fights back tears. "Peter, I'm sorry. Nat must be moving."
"Moving? Why? Where?" Peter demands.
"I don't know, honey." May tells him. "Stark Tower, maybe? I think Mr. Stark keeps an apartment there for her."
Peter watches for a moment longer and then pulls away from his aunt, taking several steps away from her before turning to face her. "I went to Nat and I told her not to hurt you." He tells her, tears in his eyes. "I guess I should have been telling you not to hurt her. She was a hero, Aunt May, and you broke her heart for it."
May's eyes went wide, shocked by Peter's words, his anger, and his hurt. "Peter."
The boy shakes his head, and runs back up the stairs to their apartment. May stands there, heartbroken and in tears. She had let her fears of being hurt, her fears of the crippling loss and pain she'd felt when Ben died, hurt the people she loved most. Peter and Natasha.