DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE.
The rating of this story has CHANGED from T to M now, due to sexual content. Please bare this warning in mind if you decide to continue reading.
~0~0~0~0~0~
Unable to help herself, Natasha smiled as she felt Steve's bare chest against her back before his arm wrapped around her waist and gently eased her against him.
Neither of them said a word, as Steve's nose brushed against her neck and he inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of citrus that always soothed him. Natasha's legs entangled with his, so every part of her body was touching his. Her heart was beating steadily in her chest, as the warmth of him surrounded her, better than any blanket could.
"Tell me what your thinking?" She asked softly, the words coming out barely louder than a whisper. Over these last few months, she felt confident that usually, she could read him as easily as a book. She'd become familiar with his body language and the way that his face responded under certain emotions. Raised eyebrows meant he was surprised. That little dimple that made an appearance when he was truly happy. How his eyes shone whenever he was speaking about something he was passionate about, or something that meant a lot to him, like he had done when he'd told her about his mother teaching him how to cook as a little boy.
But, sometimes, there were times where he was harder to read. Just like her, he was a master at concealing how he was really feeling. She knew he didn't purposefully shut her out, that it was more of a natural reflex. They were both still getting used to having someone to lean on.
This was one of those times. She knew something was troubling him. His whole body was tense, and had been ever since Ultron had made an appearance. She could understand why he was stressed about that. None of them, even Tony, had a clear idea of just how much of a threat Ultron could be. Around the team, both of their guards had been up.
Now, as they lay together like this, she was ready to drop her walls for him. She just hoped he was ready, too.
"You," He replied, and when she tilted her head to look over her shoulder at him with an eyebrow raised, he chuckled deeply. "I'm being serious, Nat. You're always in my head." His hand stroked over her stomach, making the skin tingle as his touch always did. Both of them were completely sated, however they both equally enjoyed moments like this; just touching, breathing, talking. "I'm just...I want to thank you, Nat."
"For what?" She asked, now doubly confused. "For just now? I know it was good, but it's always good, it's not like I did anything particularly special. I could do, if you want?"
He chuckled again, his arm wrapping around her tighter as he nuzzled her neck. "It was perfect, but you know that wasn't what I was going to talk to you about." She had known, and she smiled. "You're the only thing that's keeping me together right now, and I just wanted you to know that."
She shuffled so she was lying on her back, looking up at him. His hand remained on her stomach, fingers stroking lightly. "You do the same for me." She told him. "This is all one big mess, but we'll work it out. Together. As a team."
His nose brushed against hers affectionately. "This is why you're my favourite person. You keep me grounded, Nat. You remind me that everything happens for a reason, and you've got to face it, regardless of how much it scares you."
That surprised her, and she feared she'd done a bad job of hiding that surprise from her expression. "You're scared?"
"Hmm, I'm not sure if scared is the right word, really." He admitted. "I've faced danger before, countless times in fact. It's just...I've never cared about someone so much before. I know you can handle yourself. I've seen it with my own eyes. But, it's just..."
"I understand." She told him softly, and he seemed relieved that he didn't have to try to search for the way of putting what he was feeling into words. "I'd be pretty annoyed if Ultron left you all battered and bruised too."
Another chuckle escaped him, and she was proud that she could lift his mood. "Tony owes us big time, when all of this is sorted."
"He can pay for our plane tickets for the Caribbean." She agreed. "But, Steve, you can't just put all this on Tony. He and Banner worked together on Ultron. It was both of their minds. Neither of them saw it ending like this, because if they did, there is no way that they would have continued. Things go wrong, and there's nothing that can be done to go back and time to avoid this. It's happened, and we'll face it."
He looked ready to protest, but then he sighed. "See, I told you, you keep me grounded."
Gently, she cupped his face, her thumb stroking over the slight stubble that had grown over his sharp jawline. She wondered how he would look with a beard. "Try to stop thinking so much, Steve. Tomorrow will bring whatever is waiting for us, and the best thing that we can do now is go to sleep."
He kissed her once, twice, three times before settling back at her side. When he went to draw her to him once again, she shook her head and said, "Tonight, I'm going to be the big spoon."
His eyebrows raised slightly, but he turned and she wrapped herself around him. With his larger frame, she did have to stretch her arm a little to get round his side so her hand could settle on his chest, but as she entwined her legs through his once again and buried her head against the back of his neck, she smiled.
Perhaps, she should be the big spoon more often.
~0~0~0~0~0~
Nat didn't leave his room until early the next morning, just before the sun started to rise over the city.
They had spent the night slowly making love, worshipping each other's bodies and just enjoying the closeness of one another. Then, they had fallen asleep, wrapped in the thin sheets, soft smiles on their faces as they finally found peace.
By the time Natasha had showered and gotten herself a bit more presentable - thankfully, Steve's small marks he'd left on her were on areas that were easy enough to hide - the rest of the team had already gathered in the lab. She took a seat at the desk, looking at the screen. Her head practically pounded at all the different numbers and symbols flashing in front of her. It seemed a little too early for this, already.
Steve entered the room, followed closely behind by Hill and Barton. Natasha glanced up at him, seeing that same stiffness in his shoulders that had been there yesterday, before their...activities. Clearly, her boyfriend would need a long vacation after this. Once again, she had the feeling that if it was possible for him, Steve would currently be sporting the worlds most pounding headache.
But, he gave her a subtle smile as he caught her watching him, before handing the ipad in his hands over to Tony, somewhat roughly. "A message. Ultron killed Strucker." There was no warmth in his tone that there usually was. He was taking things as seriously as they all should be, and the role of leader was probably weighing him down considerably right now.
Natasha's blood turned cold, and she stretched her neck to peer over Tony's arm, right at the ipad screen. It showed Strucker, but the man was slumped against the wall, his head lolling, and it was very clear that he was now no longer part of the game.
"And, he did a Bansky at the crime scene, just for us." Tony commented, referring to the bloody letters spelling 'peace', right beside Strucker's lifeless body. Whoever had done it, hadn't even sat him so he looked somewhat respected. But, then again, a man like Strucker didn't deserve a dignified death, as far as Natasha was concerned.
"This is a smoke screen." She said, glancing at Steve. The muscle in his jaw jumped. "Why send a message when you've just given a speech?"
He dipped his head, understanding where she was going with this. "Strucker knew something that Ultron wanted us to miss."
"I bet he…." Instantly, Natasha turned to the computer, searching for their files on Strucker. Nothing came up. "Yep, everything we had on Strucker has been erased." All that time, wasted.
"Potentially not everything," Steve said thoughtfully. "Let's comb through the files we have here for any known associates. Strucker had a lot of friends."
"All of them being horrible people." Banner commented from the corner of the room.
Silently, the team dug their way through the boxes, pulling out countless files of criminals that had some relation to Strucker. Steve hadn't been wrong; Strucker had been quite popular.
"Wait," Tony said, his eyes locked on the file that Clint was holding. "I know that guy, from back in the day. He operates off the African coast. Black market arms" He flicked through the pages, halting when he saw the look Steve shot him. "There are conventions, all right? You meet people. I didn't sell him anything."
Clearly, the ice between them was still thin. Natasha knew her boyfriend well enough to know that until Tony put his hands up and admitted what he had done wrong, and apologised, that Steve wouldn't be able to move part this.
Tony continued, "He was talking about finding something new, a game-changer. It was all very Ahab."
The file was passed around the table. Ulysses Klaue.
"This?" Thor asked, pointing at the photo of a broad-shouldered,bearded man in sunglasses. There was something in particular that had caught the Asgardian's eye.
Tony leaned across to see for himself. "It's a tattoo. I don't think he had it."
The Asgardian shook his head. "Those are tattoos. This is a brand." Sure enough, the red imprint on Klaue's neck was not the work of a tattoo artist, unlike the other black swirls that decorated the visible parts of his skin.
"I'll run it through the system." Banner offered, and was passed the file without complaint. A few seconds later, he'd found it. "Oh, yeah. It's a word in African dialect meaning 'thief', in a much less friendly way."
"What dialect?" Steve asked, his brow furrowed slightly, a sign that a headache was probably heading his way.
"Wakanada." Bruce said, the word sounding strange before he looked again and corrected himself, "Wakanda."
Tony and Steve exchanged a knowing glance. "If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods…"
"I thought your father said he got the last of it." Steve said.
Natasha huffed, her arms folding her chest. "If you two want us to leave so you can continue this private conversation without including us-"
"I don't follow." Banner interjected, just as Steve shot Natasha a wink, which no one picked up on because of the tilt of his head. "What comes out of Wakanda?"
Steve turned, looking to where his shield was resting against the cabinet. "The strongest metal on Earth."
Dread sank in Natasha's stomach like an anchor.
~0~0~0~0~0~
Klaus's base was a salvage yard near Johannesburg, and consisted of several grounded cargo ships. Inside, he had workers constructing weapons made out of vibranium, the precious material sourced from Wakanda. The plan was simple enough; find Klaue and bring him back for questioning.
However, they should have known nothing would go to plan.
Natasha halted Steve before they disembarked the jet, the others had already gone. "Nothing stupid," She reminded him.
He grinned at her. "Yes, ma'am." Just before he jumped, his hand squeezed her bottom, and she squealed slightly.
"Prick," She muttered, but couldn't stop herself from smiling as she too, left the safety of the jet.
On board the container ship, she stuck to the shadows, moving along the corridor as soundlessly and slowly as she could manage. They'd already killed the power on the container, which meant the workers had scattered, thankfully. An audience definitely wasn't needed for what they were about to do.
She could hear shouting, and Ultron's voice flooded the container as he declared, "Don't compare me to Stark!" There was a loud groaning sound, someone in pain. "Stark is...he's a sickness!"
"Ah, Junior, you're going to break your old man's heart." Tony loved his dramatic entrances, and this, it seemed, was no different.
Natasha peered into the deck below where she was, where Tony, Thor and Steve were stood together, facing Ultron. The cold, dark voice of Ultron was now coming out of a large suit, similar to Tony's, but with an unfriendly face and a predatory stance. At it's side, where two people that Natasha did not recognise, and she could barely see them. All she could make out was that one was a boy with hair so light it was practically white, and a girl who hovered close to her sides. Something red and glowing was at her fingertips.
"If I have to," Ultron responded calmly.
"Nobody has to break anything." Thor reasoned, his voice dark and threatening.
"Clearly, you've never made an omelet." Ultron made jokes now? Natasha glanced up and across to where Clint was perched, keeping himself concealed. He returned her gaze and shrugged.
"He beat me by one second," Tony muttered, clearly not factoring in the danger of this situation, or simply not caring for it.
"Ah, he's funny." The white-haired boy said, stepping further into the light, the girl remaining close to his side, like a shadow. Only now did Natasha recognise them; the twins. Her stomach sank. "Mr Stark. It's what, comfortable? Like old times?"
Under the suit, Tony winced. Not at the words themselves, but at the fact this strange boy clearly knew about his past, what had happened to him before Iron Man came about. "This was never my life."
Steve walked forward, his eyes on the two strangers. "You two can still walk away from this." He reasoned.
"Oh, we will." The girl, Wanda, responded. She seemed to regard Steve, her eyes inquisitive despite the coldness to her face.
It would have been unlike Steve to drop it, to give in on them when he thought he could help them. "I know you've suffered-"
Ultron scoffed. "Captain America, God's righteous man." Even from her view point so high up, Natasha saw Steve stiffen. "Pretending you could live without a war. I can't physically throw up in my mouth, but…"
Natasha's grip tightened on the glock in her hand.
"If you believe in peace," Thor growled. "Then let us keep it."
Ultron's attention turned from the Captain to the Asgardian, regarding him silently. "I think you're confusing 'peace' with 'quiet'."
"Uh-huh," Tony cut in. "What's the vibranium for?"
"I'm glad you asked that, because I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan." Ultron said smugly, and then suddenly, at the raise of his wrist, the Legionnaire suits appeared, tackling Steve and Thor to the ground. Ultron blasted Tony into the steel door behind them, but Tony's beams powered him forward, crashing into Ultron. They took their fight to the air, while Thor and Steve battled on the ground.
Then, Pietro darted forward - literally. He was a blur, knocking Thor to the side, unbalancing him. Steve faced Wanda just in time for those red rays at her fingers to strike him, sending him flying backwards. He gripped onto the banister to keep himself on his feet.
Gunshots rained down on them, and Natasha spun round just as several armed men entered. She handled the numbers, kicking and knocking the breath out of their lungs until they were a heap at her feet. Unfortunately, one of them had managed to get a tight grip on her arm, forcing it behind her at a funny angle. She'd gotten him off eventually, but it felt sore to lift her arm.
From across the ship, she heard Clint's arrows flying, hitting their targets which such precision that she still found it fascinating..
Klaue's men were large in numbers, but not sharp. They made easy pickings for her and Clint, and by the time they had finished, she rushed to the banister and looked down, heart in her mouth as she checked for one face in particular. Although she was concerned for the entire team, her heartrate would not settle until she saw that Steve was okay.
Thor had just sent his hammer flying, and the white-haired boy was thrown into large cargo boxes after attempting to grab it. He had been so fast that Natasha's eyes hadn't been able to catch up with him until he crumbled to his side, panting and looking completely overwhelmed by what was happening. It had been hard to forget, as he'd darted around them, that he was really just a boy.
Then, Natasha's eyes picked out the red, blue and white of Steve's suit, as he crossed the ship with a powerful, purposeful stride. He didn't seem hurt, and his steps were even and balanced. His serum-enhanced stamina and the fact that he was one of the most skilled fighters at hand-to-hand combat that she had ever met had done little to stop her being concerned. Seeing him now relieved that tightness in her chest, but she still gripped onto the metal banister in front of her to see what he'd do.
Steve stopped, shield in his hand, but didn't attack. He said something, but with Tony and Ultron crashing above them, Natasha couldn't hear. She watched as her soldier turned and left the boy there, unharmed.
Natasha was about to head down there herself when suddenly, something touched her mind, stroking it. She froze as scarlet rays surrounded her, the fingers that slid across her mind intensifying their grip, holding her in place. A chill ran down her spine.
One minute, she was onboard the cargo ship, then she found herself in a ballet studio. It didn't take her long to recognise the faded wallpaper and the slightly crooked wooden flooring. This wasn't just a ballet studio. It was her old ballet studio. Probably the one place where she had found happiness in her childhood. Dancing had always been her escape. She had wished every night that one day, she would be able to afford lessons. But, as an orphan, such luxuries were never an option. Instead, she had learnt from peering through the glass when a class was on.
When Madame B had found out about her longing to dance, Natasha had almost cried when the woman had offered to let her join in with the classes. Little had she known at the time, that the Red Room would soon take that joy from her and crush it into a thousand tiny pieces, so much so that she probably would never be able to fix what they broke.
Suddenly, memories that she had spent so long blocking out - had pushed to the back of her brain, into the darkness parts of her mind - swarmed her, making it very hard to breathe.
She stood with Madame B's cold presence behind her, like a hovering ghost, watching a pair of dancers in front of them. The girls moved so beautifully, their love for dancing radiating through every graceful line, every pointed foot and delicately placed finger. She could barely remember the last time she had felt that joy that doing something you loved brought you.
Then, the scene changed in a blink of an eye. The dancers were gone, and instead she stood with a gun in her hand, and the bullets landed perfectly in the target in front of her. Right before her eyes, the target changed, to a person with a bag over their head, whimpering.
Her body felt alien to her, acting on commands that had been drilled into her for years, as she raised her gun with confidence, and didn't flinch as she hit her target and the man lay in a pool of his own blood. Then, she was on a crash mat, in a choke hold. Whoever held her let her go, eventually, and as she fought for her breath back, her mentor, Madame B, chided her harshly for her sloppiness, at how pathetic she was for pretending to fail.
The ceremony is necessary for you to take your place in the world. The words haunted her, ringing in her head so painfully that she shuddered. But, she couldn't get away from them.
I have no place in the world, she whispered, feeling an emptiness start to spread inside her. A darkness. She was rotten on the inside.
Then, she was strapped down, being wheeled through a terrifying corridor of brick and shadows. No matter how much she fought against the restraints on her wrists and ankles, the trolley kept going, further down that damn corridor, towards whatever was waiting for her. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and when she clenched her hands into fists, her nails cut into her palms deep enough to draw blood. When she tried to scream, her mouth was covered.
"Tasha?"
That voice didn't belong to the vision.
Clint.
She pulled against the straps on her wrists as her eyes shut, forcing herself to wake up from whatever nightmare she had been forced to endure. Her body writhed on the bed, making it rock from side to side, but the wheels kept rolling across the cold floor, taking her closer to the room at the end. The room where something would be taken from her, something she would never be able to get back.
"Tasha!"
Clint. Her friend. Who had seen something in her worth saving, worth trusting. Clint, who had aimed a gun directly at her forehead, and then lowered it. The first person to look at her and take a minute to really see her. The first person who understood what the KBG had made her, and yet had been determined to find the person underneath that mask. Clint, who had had her back ever since. Believed in her. Trusted her with his most precious secret. Defended her and encouraged her throughout their toughest of missions, and had shown her that admitting your weaknesses should be seen as a strength.
But, Clint wasn't in the room, and she had to get out. Panic tightened her body, making breathing even harder. Her breaths came in and out in ragged pants, as it felt like the walls around her grew in closer and closer.
"Natasha, you're okay." His voice spoke to her, even though she couldn't see him, even though the trolley wasn't stopping and that god-damn room approached which each passing second. "I'm here, Tasha. Stop fighting. It's not real, kid. It's not real."
Stop fighting.
So, she did.
And when she blinked, she found herself back on the cold metal floor of the cargo ship, with Clint's arms around her, holding her close to his chest. Oxygen rushed to her lungs, as if she had been submerged under water and was finally allowed to resurface. It took her a moment to realise that she was sitting on the floor, with Clint's arms around her. He was rocking her slowly, like you would comfort a child. That's all that she felt in that moment; weak, vulnerable, shaken.
It took all she had not to cry.
Those memories...although she couldn't see them anymore, they were there, present in her mind. They served as a real-opened wound, gushing blood after being covered. For so long, she had blocked them out, and yet they had pounced the minute she had been vulnerable enough to let them, like they had so often done before, in the form of nightmares. She heard the whimpering of that man, so similar to all the others who had begged her for their lives, who she had ignored. The whimpering that had finished as soon as that bullet struck it's target...
Her own words struck her, right through the chest. I have no place in the world.
"Tasha?" Clint whispered, squeezing her against him. "I'm here."
She clung to him, her head burrowing against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. As it thumped against her ear, she willed herself to calm down, to stop shaking.
"Breathe," He told her firmly.
She did.
"Good. And again."
With each slow breath, her own heart rate started to slow down again. Her palms were sweaty as she held onto him for dear life. She felt exhausted, and not from fighting against those men, but from what she had just endured. Her brain felt battered, and her strength left her body as she collapsed into Clint.
"You're okay." He said, his fingers brushing a strand of her hair out of her face. Then, his hand was stroking her back slowly, soothingly, in time to the rhythm of her breathing. "I've got you."
Footprints sounded, approaching quickly, and then whoever appeared stopped.
"She's okay." Clint spoke to the newcomer. Natasha didn't lift her head.
When the new cover cleared their throat, she knew instantly who it was, and her stomach sank. That was enough to make her look up, and the sight of Steve almost broke her completely. He was staring at her, looking torn. She could tell he wanted to be the one holding her, rocking her gently to keep her calm, but it would raise too many questions. They had both made the agreement to keep what they had secret. But, he now looked completely devastated about that agreement.
Wordlessly, Steve looked at Clint, whose hands didn't drop, and the look on his face changed. Darkened, in a way that she had never seen his expression turn to before.
"We need to go." He said, his voice distant, cut off from any emotion. He stared directly at Clint, as if he couldn't even bare to look at her. In doing so, it felt as if he'd plunged a knife right through her gut and twisted it. She had to focus herself to keeping breathing.
"Steve-" Natasha whispered, but he'd already gone, turning on his heels and walking away, and it felt as if her heart had gone with him.
Watching as the captain disappeared, Clint's brow furrowed.
~0~0~0~0~0~
As it turned out, the others - apart from Clint - had gone through exactly what she had done, but with their own past ghosts. Thor seemed to be harming some sort of inner storm as he sulked around the jet, and Steve had been deathly quiet since Nat and Clint had boarded.
She almost threw herself at him, wishing that he would just hold her and make everything go away. The memories she had endured had shaken her down to her core, but her face as she entered the quinjet was one of steel. She couldn't let the others see just how affected she was by her own past. She only ever allowed Clint and Steve to see that vulnerability to her, and the former of the two was currently not speaking to her.
With a huff, she sat down on the bench and winced as her shoulder protested. In an attempt to make herself feel slightly better, she remembered that the man who had wrenched her shoulder had definitely been left in a much worse state.
"Take it easy there, kid." Clint passed her an ice-pack from the first aid cabinet as he walked by, on his way to the pilot seat.
Giving him a small smile of gratitude, she leaned back, using the ice-pack as a pillow against the hard wall behind her. The coldness from the pack easily made its way through her suit, touching her skin and soothing the aching muscles.
"How is Bruce?" She asked, directing the question at no one in particular, but silently hoping that the person's whose voice she needed to hear answered.
It was Thor, however, who told her, "Tony managed to contain him enough for him to calm down. It was those two twins that set him off."
"Enhanced twins," Clint said thoughtfully. "I've never seen someone so fast before. He's just a blur. The girl, on the other hand, that's dark stuff."
"I wonder where they went." Natasha said, glancing over to where her boyfriend was standing, across the room from her. Her heartbeat quickened when his blue eyes found hers, and she saw that they weren't filled with anger. He hadn't been angry before, just...closed off, distant. Even now, he was too far away.
"They'll show up." He answered, speaking as though it was only the two of them in the room, having a private conversation. "Eventually,"
I'm sorry, his face seemed to say, as his eyes glimmered with regret over how he had just walked away from her.
The corners of her lips twitched. It's okay. Even though she hadn't spoken the words out loud, something about the way she looked at him seemed to help him relax, just slightly. The weight of everything that had happened, ever since Ultron's entrance at the party, was burdening him, and she wished he'd let her share it with him.
They landed closer to the city to pick up Tony and Bruce. Looking a little more than worse for wear, Banner didn't say a word, but gave them all an apologetic glance as he retreated to the back of the jet to rest. He looked absolutely shattered, but that was probably an after effect of smashing anything he could get his hands on.
After some time, Hill called to check in on them. "The news is loving you guys, nobody else is." She reported. "There's been no official call for Banner's arrest but it's in the air."
"Stark Relief Foundation?" Tony asked.
"Already on the scene. How's the team?"
Tony looked at them all, his eyes resting on Steve's, as if waiting for the captain to speak for them all. But, Steve just dipped his head, defeated. "We took a hit." Tony told her. "We'll shake it off."
"Well, for now, I'd stay in stealth mode." The agent advised kindly. "And, stay away from here."
"So, run and hide?" Tony checked, although they had all heard the message loud and clear.
Hill sighed. "Until we can find Ultron. I don't have a lot else to offer."
Tony ended the call, making his way to the front of the jet to offer to switch places with Clint, who hadn't had a minute to himself yet. But, Clint declined, suggesting they all made the most of a few hours kip, as they weren't far.
When asked where they were headed, Clint's only response was 'To a safe house' and Natasha didn't have the strength to try to push for a clearer answer.
She managed to catch Steve's eye as she headed for the lower compartment of the jet, where it would be a bit quieter, knowing that both Stark and Thor would remain up with Clint to see where they were going. But, Steve didn't follow her, and her heart sank painfully in her chest.
~0~0~0~0~0~
Happy New Year everyone!
E x