Widow and the Devil
So, I don't own The Avengers or Daredevil...Damn.
Thanks to those who followed, favored, and/or reviewed.
Previously...
Matt,
I'm sorry. It seems like I say that a lot. I shouldn't be telling you this over a letter, but it's not safe for me to say it in person or over the phone. Hopefully, none of my mentors know braille if they do somehow find you and our son. He was born earlier this week, on the eleventh. I won't tell you where because it wasn't the safest place to be, but he was born here in Hell's Kitchen. I couldn't risk going to a hospital, my mentors would have found out if I did. His name is Peter, by the way. Peter Jonathan Murdock. I originally was going to name him Ivan, after the man who raised me until he gave me to the Red Room. It would too oblivious, though. Peter, on the other hand, is close enough that it still honors him. I remember you telling me about your father and I figured that by naming our son after him would honor him as well.
My name's not Natalie Rushman. You probably already know that though. You always seem to be able to read between the lines, don't you? I won't tell you my real name, it's not safe. I should have never continued on seeing you after I ran into you all those months ago. I could have put you in danger had my mentors found out, especially since you distracted me from my assignment. I won't give you the details. I doubt I will ever see you again.
I care very deeply about you,
Nat
June 2010
The apartment was quiet. It was different from the last one Matt Murdock had been in. Then again, it had been almost nine years since Natalia Romanova, now known as Natasha Romanoff, and previously Natalie Rushman on several occasions had been in Hell's Kitchen.
Tomorrow, she would leave again. She would not go back to the Red Room, no, she hasn't been a spy for them in years. Not since Barton offered her a way out and a way into S.H.I.E.L.D.
She had been assigned to watch Tony Stark for Nick Fury's Avengers Initiative, which he unsurprisingly failed; and now, she would be leaving for her next assignment. She had no desire to hang around Stark anytime soon, she had more important things to do, though it could hold off for another night.
The apartment was dark, both bedroom doors were closed. Natasha knew instantly which one was her son's, she doubts Matt liked decorating his door with childish Star Wars drawings and what appeared to be a lego that had been super-glued above the doorknob.
She gently opened to door. A Darth Vader nightlight was plugged into the wall, and toys were scattered near the red container that served as a toy box, clearly not used as often as it should.
The Star Wars-themed bed was up against the wall adjacent to the door, under a window that was covered in stickers. Above the bed was a little shelf, where a few books, Lego figures and, to Natasha's chagrin, a toy Iron Man mask and repulser gauntlets.
On the bed was a young boy with unruly brown hair. His face was peaceful, blissfully unaware of the woman standing at his door. Natasha wondered if he was dreaming about Star Wars or even Iron Man.
"Long night?" Natasha heard. Surprisingly, she didn't react, or in her case attack. After taking the time to look at her son one more time, she turned and saw Matt Murdock in a pair of dark plaid pajama pants. There were dark bruises under his eyes, indicating that he still had issues sleeping. "I thought you said we would never meet each other again?"
Natasha frowned as she took in her former lover's face. He didn't appear angry about her sudden appearance, but then again it was always hard to read the blind man.
"I thought so too," She said in a steady tone. "I'm only in New York for another night."
"Then back to the Red Room?"
She grimaced at his tone, though she deserved it.
"No. Not anymore."
She watched as his head cocked to the side, before letting it fall back into its normal position.
"Where then?"
Culver University, Natasha wanted to say. "Somewhere that doesn't concern you," She answered.
Matt doesn't say anything, he just looks in her direction with his unresponsive eyes.
His lips twitch and he nods towards their son's door, "please, close that. I don't want him to wake up just yet."
Natasha agreed silently, and she closed the door. The boy didn't move an inch, he just continued on with his dreams. She walked over to the sofa and sat down. Matt seemed to realize this, and he sat down next to her.
"You can stay," Natasha heard, causing her to look at the brown-haired man. "Peter should know his mother."
Natasha shook her head. "No," She argued. "He shouldn't."
"Then why did you come?"
"Because I couldn't help myself," The redhead admitted as she looked away. "He doesn't deserve to have...someone like me as his mother."
"Shouldn't he be the one to judge that?"
"You don't know what I've done," Natasha claimed as she sighed. "If you did, you would never allow him around me."
"Are you certain of that?"
"Yes."
"Then you and I don't know each other as well as we had before."
"You didn't know me then," Natasha protested. "The girl you knew was Natalie Rushman, not...Not me. You don't know me."
"Then tell me who you are," Matt said, his head was up, and looking in her direction as though he could see her. "Tell me who you are, and I'll do the same."
Natasha frowned as Matt held out his hand.
"Natal-Natasha Romanoff," She said after eyeing the man in front of her for a few moments.
A slight smirk appeared on Matt's face as Natasha took his hand and shook it.
"Matt Murdock," He introduced. "It's nice to meet you, Natasha."
"You too."
Peter woke up to the smell of pancakes and coffee.
Rolling out of bed, the soon-to-be nine-year-old landed on his feet before almost falling because of the Lego he nearly stepped on. He probably should clean his room, before his dad came in and stepped on one.
He could do it later though, the boy brushed off as he walked towards his bedroom door. His Star Wars pajamas were wrinkled, but he never had much care for that. As long as he didn't get it stained with anything, it was in perfect condition for Peter Murdock.
A red-haired lady was at the stove with his dad, cooking breakfast.
"-I don't see how this is healthy, Matthew," the redhead said to Peter's dad, who smirked as he poured coffee into the mug Peter had painted in art class. It had been a Father's Day present when he was in Kindergarten. Matt remembered how the art teacher had reacted to the unusual painting and how Matt couldn't see it. Granted, not many students graphic depictions of martial artists. Not at five-years-old.
"It's not supposed to be healthy, Nat," Peter's dad said to the woman, who rolled her eyes but had a smile on her face.
"Yes," Nat said as she flipped the pancake in the pan. It was a little burnt, not that the woman seemed to notice. "Well, the kid should be learning good eating habits early."
"Fine, he'll eat healthy before ten in the morning," Matt said in a joking manner.
"Do I get a say in that?" Peter asked as he entered the kitchen area.
His father and the redhead looked in his direction.
"Morning, Pete," his dad said as the boy sat down at the table.
"Morning Dad," the eight-year-old said, grinning before he looked at Nat and shyly waved. "Hi."
Nat quickly pulled a smile on her suddenly pale face as she waved back at Peter with her free hand. "Hi, Peter. I'm Natasha, a friend of your dad's."
"Are you from my Dad's job?" Peter asked, looking at the woman.
"Sort of," Natasha lied. "Your dad and I ran into each other the other day. I got lost trying to get to Queens and somehow ended up outside his work."
"Did you go to the Stark Expo?" Peter asked, his voice rising with excitement.
Nodding, Natasha quickly came up with a child-safe answer, "my boss and I were there for an exhibition she was running."
Natasha watched as the boy's face brightened up in amazement.
"Really?" Peter asked.
"Yep." Natasha looked over at Matt, who was hiding his grin behind his coffee mug.
"I went to the Stark Expo with my Uncle Foggy," the boy revealed, grinning as though it was the coolest thing he's ever said. "And I got to meet Iron Man!"
Natasha nearly dropped the metal spatula in her right hand. "Oh, really?" She asked, her voice sounding conflicted, though Peter didn't know why.
Peter nodded wildly as he began speaking in a rapid, high-pitched tone, "Yeah! It was when the bad robots were flying around, I had on my Iron Man mask and one of the bad robots flew in front of me!" The boy's hands were moving around so fast that Natasha could barely see them. "Then Iron Man, he came next to me and shot at the bad robot! He looked at me and said 'good job, kid.' How cool is that?"
"Very cool," Natasha said after her voice returned. Just her luck, her son was an Iron Man fan.
"Uncle Foggy?"
Matt smirked as he leaned back into the park bench he and Natasha were sitting in. Peter was nearby, swinging on the park's swing set that desperately needed repairs with its rusted over paint job and loose chains and the squeaked more than it should have.
"Foggy Nelson, he was my roommate during college," Matt explained. "We've been thinking about opening up a law firm together."
"Murdock and Nelson?"
"Nelson and Murdock, actually," Matt corrected. He frowned as he tapped his thumb up against his cane, "do you plan on coming back?"
"I don't know," Natasha admitted as she looked over at Peter. The boy was going too high for her liking but smiled when she saw the look on his face. "I hope so."
Matt nodded as he said, "I hope so too. Peter, he deserves to know you."
"And what about you?"
"What about me?"
"Don't you deserve the chance to know Natasha Romanoff?"
Matt's lips twitched upward. "if she lets me," He said.
Natasha nodded before leaning back into the bench. "Even if it's another nine years before you see me again?"
"Even then," Matt answered. "Though hopefully not with another surprise. Last time I got one from you, I didn't get a good sleep for at least four years; and don't even get me started on college."
Natasha smirked. "You've never been able to sleep properly," She said. "You're a strange individual, Mr. Murdock."
"The same to you, Miss Romanoff."
Natasha looked over at Peter as the boy all but flung himself off of the swing. He landed on his knees but had the widest grin on his face that she had ever seen.
"And our son is even stranger."
Matt smirked as he said, "There's no debate on that one."
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I know there might be some mistakes, so I apologize.
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Until next time...