Hey guys,
Hope you're all staying safe and well. The next instalment for you, hope you enjoy :)
10 June 2018
Hey Tom,
Sometimes you get a day you don't expect.
It reaches out and pulls the rug from beneath your feet and leaves you wondering what's next.
For instance, when something even the smallest bit good happens, a whole bunch of bad is right round the corner. I don't mind bad. Most of my life was spent in that territory. But all the bad we've had lately is worse than anything that's come before. It's enough to leave even the most optimistic person suspicious of light.
So when I left the compound to go and see Pepper and the sun was shining, a bad feeling gnawed away at the pit of my stomach. Telling me that any second now something was going to jump from beyond the sunlight to drag me back into the shadows.
Shadows that were really mine. Ones that never left no matter how fast I drove or sharp I turned the corners. They clung on and always would.
Go on, call me a pessimist. We're all thinking it.
The day stayed clear. Nothing threw itself in my path. And those shadows stayed behind me.
For the first time since Thor killed Thanos I was able to breathe. The aftertaste of guilt fainter than it ever was.
All the while a small part of me said to relax and enjoy it. So small it should have been easy to ignore. But it put up a good fight.
I was so focused on the war inside I hadn't realised I was almost at the end of my journey. I registered the trees on a subconscious level, remembering too many times in my past when enemies tried to use similar terrain against me.
The sat nav insisted I keep going. So I did. Shadows fell over the car, nothing to do with the ones I'd worried about my entire journey.
And then there was a beautiful house with a lake glistening behind it. It was unassuming and yet still surrounded by whispers of grandness.
A perfect blend of Potts and Stark.
I pulled up a little off to the side.
As I stepped out and slammed the door shut visions of the emaciated Tony collapsing into Pepper's arms filled my mind. Followed by the slightly withered version of him clinging to her hand at the memorial.
As I reached the steps up to the porch I was faced by a fuller, healthier him. Armed with an unreadable expression and a crumpled paper bag. I was convinced the good day was about to say good day. I thought I felt those shadows lurking in the wings, ready to make their appearance.
Neither of us moved, entering into an accidental staring contest. Until he picked a blueberry from the bag and flicked it into his mouth.
"Welcome to Château Starkotts. Or maybe Pottark. I dunno, it'll be easier to introduce after the wedding."
There was a humour in his voice that I hadn't heard for so long. Sure, it came with a roughness, but he sounded more like himself than I expected.
"Good to see you, Tony."
"What, no sarcastic quip? You've gone soft Romanoff." He waved me up onto the decking and we walked round to the door, the lake coming into full view. He hesitated at the door before deciding to lean against one of the wooden beams supporting the porch roof.
Was this when it was all about to fall apart?
"Rhodey said the gang was getting back together," Tony stated, throwing a blueberry in the air and catching it in his mouth.
No, I guess not.
"Yep. "
"Heads up." He threw a berry my way and I let it bounce off my forehead and onto the floor. He followed its journey onto the wooden decking with his eyes, chucking another one in his mouth. "Well that was a waste. I expected better."
"Rhodey mentioned you had a slight blueberry addiction. Should we be worried?"
"Hey lady, get your own Rhodey. I'm not sharing mine."
"Don't think that's your choice."
"Funny, he said the same thing." Tony scrunched up the now empty bag and shoved it in his back pocket, still chewing on the last couple of berries. "So, what's the deal little Red? Though, you're blonde now. What's with that anyway? Having a bit of an identity crisis? Suppose it was only a matter of time before all those other lives of yours got their wires crossed. But honestly, if you've gone blonde what am I supposed to call you now?"
"How about Natasha."
"Nah uh. Too serious for me. Is it even your real name?"
"No."
"Seriously? Sort of wasn't expecting that answer."
I blinked at him and there was a moment's silence as he contemplated my answer. He scratched at his neck and tapped his foot, never once staying still.
"I guess I could go with the obvious and call you Blondie."
"I'd prefer you didn't."
"I'll find a decent nickname for you, one way or another. Or you know, if you have a suggestion you could just call me. Promise not to leave you hanging on the telephone. Hey, do you reckon there really are men from Mars out there, who like eating cars?"
"Tony."
"You know, the hardest part of finding you a new nickname-"
"Tony."
"-is trying to think of one no one's thought of before. I don't like to copy others. There's only one Tony Stark, and it should be the same for all of my creations. Whether they're flying suits or nicknames-"
"Tony!"
"Whoa there, no need to go atomic."
"Blondie's fine," I sighed, "Rocket already has dibs on Goldilocks. I can't wait for the red to come back," I said, massaging my temples.
"Me neither, I'm running out of song titles. Think I need to go have a look through their back catalogue."
"Where's your better half?" I asked before he could walk away to do just what he said. "She wanted to see me."
"Shopping. Apparently she needs to make you this recipe she found. You're in for a treat when Pepper cooks lunch."
"Oh, I didn't realise I'd be here that long."
"Got other things to do?"
"I've left Steve alone looking after ten kids," I didn't miss the flinch when I mentioned the name, nor did I miss the mischief in his eyes when I stopped talking.
"Wow, he really is a super soldier. You two moved quickly. I'm happy for you. Truly."
"Tony," I groaned.
"Well, if you insist on being vague with the details, I'll be forced to fill them in on my own. And I have a very wild imagination."
"They're the kids we rescued at the port."
"Ah," he said, looking serious for the first time since I stepped out of the car. "How are they?"
I considered for a moment. On the face of it they seemed fine, but children were great repressors. They were hurt, scarred from the captivity and scared of everything around them. I didn't know how long they were held because they didn't know. Or maybe because they didn't want to confide. After all, the last group of strangers looking after them had smuggled them into a foreign country to be sold.
"As you'd expect," I finally answered. He looked at me hard, as if trying to read all my secrets. His eyes were the typical Stark Storm. Then he whipped his head to look out over the land in front of us.
"And how're you?" He asked.
I smirked, fixing his profile with my own steady stare.
"As you'd expect."
A small smile graced his features as he drummed his hands against the wooden railing of his porch. I opened my mouth to throw the question back at him but never got the chance to utter a syllable.
"Hey, Red. Uh, I mean, Blondie. I'm sorry for that comment earlier about your multiple lives," he took a breath to carry on but I cut in.
"I can take a joke, Tony."
"Course you can. Umm, look, I dunno if you've had a chance to stop by your apartment in the city-"
Again, I took the liberty of cutting in.
"I got your note," it was my turn to face forward and avoid eye contact as Tony studied me, "you didn't need to do all that. And you don't need to apologise. You trusted me and I threw that away."
"And yet, of the three of us, I can't help but think you were the only one with your head screwed on right. Maybe if we were all still together what happened wouldn't have happened."
"Trust me, I've had those thoughts too."
There was a split second when neither of us knew what to say. When Tony found something, the devastation he tried to keep from his voice was wrenching.
"He almost killed me."
I knew, of course. Steve told me not long after we met up on the run. His actions haunted his dreams. He said he didn't know who he was anymore. Forgetting that plenty of things drive plenty of people to actions they never thought possible.
Was what he did okay?
No.
But I understood.
Ever since he came back he had a mental checklist of everything that had gone wrong.
The world he'd sacrificed himself for. Not worth it.
The one woman he'd loved. Gone, in mind then in body.
His best friend. Hallowed out and turned into a ghost story.
His way of life. Extinct.
Bucky was a tiny sliver of the life he thought he'd lost.
And Steve was just a man with PTSD plucked from everything he knew, trying to keep hold of the one thing he recognised.
The rage festered. Then it bubbled. And then it boiled over with Tony.
It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.
But it was human.
The thing with life though. It's never cut and dry. As much as I understood where Steve's anger came from, Tony had every right to cut him off like he did. To take away his Shield. Because Steve betrayed him. Mister I'm-always-honest lied to him.
So. What do you say to something like that?
"Yeah," was all that slipped out of my mouth as the emotions of two years ago swirled between us. "I'm sorry Tony. I didn't do it to hurt you. I thought it was the best thing at the time."
"You know," he said as if he didn't hear me, "the thing that really gets me about Steve isn't that he whaled on me. I mean, that man is just full of repression. I would say he'd need to chill if he hadn't already spent a lifetime on ice. It's that he always acted like this perfect guy, a man that we should all try to be like. But when it came down to it he wasn't any better than the rest of us. He lied and expected me to understand. I wasted all that time respecting him, looking up to him even. And I just can't forgive him for that. But I can forgive you, because you've never pretended to be someone you're not."
"I've sort of made a living out of being someone else," I said.
"You know what I mean, Blondie. You've never apologised for being who you are. You own it. You have your secrets and your methods and sometimes it can be ugly, but you've never shied away from it. I'm even actually starting to believe that you have a reason for your secrets."
Sensing a moment it could finally seep into, silence crept between us. It was strong and not quite comfortable. And though it stretched, it wasn't awkward. It lasted until Tony cleared his throat, rapped his knuckles against the wood and spoke.
"What I'm trying to say is that if I don't need to apologise, then neither do you. Deal?"
He held out his hand. I looked up at him and took it.
"Deal."
"Great. Cheers to not apologising. My bad. We don't have any drinks. I should probably go and fix that."
He sauntered off through his door and beckoned me through. The house was light and airy, homely details scattered throughout with a touch only Pepper could have brought.
"For what it's worth," he called from the kitchen, "I really didn't mind adding your apartment to my roster of responsibilities. I befriended a cat there."
My mind flashed back to the dust-decorated water bowl. Something must have shown on my face because Tony hesitated as he passed me some water.
"Liho," I said, pushing the memory from my mind, "I gave her some food when she was living on the streets and she took it as an invitation to claim my favourite cushion on the sofa. She's gone now, in the Snap."
A pause.
We were back to not looking each other in the eye. Or at least I was, I didn't really know what Tony was doing with his.
"You know," he paused to take a sip of his drink, "I never thought I was a cat person until I met T'challa. In all honesty, pets aren't really my thing. I spend so much time in the lab I'd probably forget to feed them."
"I'm sure Friday would remind you."
"True. True. Even so, I always thought I might go for something a bit quirkier. Cats and dogs, they're just so mundane. Me, I'm more of a llama person, or an alpaca, or maybe some sort of marsupial. Or one of those things you've got."
"And what do I have," I smiled in spite of myself.
"That raccoon thing."
"I think he's a special case, more of a person less of a pet."
"I dunno, walks like a raccoon, talks like a raccoon, must be a raccoon." He shrugged his shoulders, though the curling of his lips gave away his amusement. "Anyway, I'm not an expert at reading feline facial expressions yet, but I think that cat missed you."
"Well, I have to be honest Stark. This is not how I thought my day was gonna go."
A short, sharp bark of laughter and any tension I'd felt since stepping out of my car eased away. I thought I was coming here just to settle the details of this organisation with Pepper, instead I'd settled any bad blood between Tony and I.
Rather than being pulled from under my feet, the rug was put back. Even if it's just for tonight, something in this world feels right again. And it's nice.
Pepper came home not long after our chat and we spent the entire day going over everything. By the time we'd finished it was dark. She insisted I stay the night.
It's quiet out here. Different from the compound. An odd half-chorus of insects is sounding in the darkness. Everywhere I go there's a reminder of the scars that mar the planet.
One day that chorus will be full again.
17 June 2018
Sorry Tom,
It's been hectic. Wanted to let you know I'm still alive.
All's quiet again, unless you count whatever the hell our alien friends are up to. Tony decided to convert some old Stark Industries warehouses across the country into fully kitted facilities to look after any orphans that make their way to us. Pepper's got some guys buying properties in different countries that we can do the same to.
The children have gone. They have everything they need, now. Everything they deserve.
I sort of miss the company.
They were demanding, noisy, and too damned scared. But they were also inquisitive, smart and despite their kidnapping and being left all alone in a world so busy dealing with other problems it barely had time for theirs, they weren't as scarred as the other company I keep.
At least they're being looked after properly now.
20 June 2018
Mystery solved!
What mystery, you ask.
Let me set the scene for you.
I'm at my desk, feet up on the table (screw you Madame B). There's no music because my demons are keeping themselves busy for once. I have my tablet balanced on my legs and I'm going through Rhodey's list of revisions to the Accords, and adding some of my own. We had a good chance of turning them into something most people were happy to swallow. Except maybe the politicians, but at this point I couldn't give two shits about whether it goes down smoothly for them, or if it feels like they're swallowing barbed wire.
When I look up the clocks are well into unsociable hours.
Apart from my occasional scribbling and tapping, not a creature was stirring not even a-
Bang!
That damn raccoon.
Bang. Bang.
What the hell are they doing?
I try to drive the noise away. Block my ears to it and keep up my concentration.
But-
Bang.
-it keeps-
Bang.
-on-
Bang.
-going.
"Focus," I said. The top lawyer Pepper leant us wanted to see the documents tomorrow. To cover any loopholes we might have created and exploit those exposed in the original. We were going up against some of the best negotiators the UN had. And sure, I'm Russian and there's no messing with us when it comes to convoluted politics. But even we need to be able to concentrate.
Bang!
That's it.
I had every intention of storming in on them and raging at whatever the fuck they were doing. Until, that is, I realised, I'm so tired of being angry. And they needed a way to keep their mind off the grief.
The banging and clinking were almost deafening when I reached the source. They'd commandeered one of Tony's labs and I wish I could say I recognise what they were working on but even after almost a decade of working with a genius the one thing I learned was it's never what it seemed.
I waited in the doorway until they noticed me. Nebula was crouched over some wires. Stripping them. Until she sensed I'd joined their get together. She stood. Movement almost robotic. Almost human.
Knowing no noise meant no work, Rocket looked over at his partner then followed her gaze. The look in their eyes was a familiar one. Wary and weary. Stuck with a whole bunch of people they don't know, therefore don't trust. Living a reality no one should have to live. Plus, a whole load more baggage I couldn't unpack for them because I was neither a robotically enhanced daughter of a genocidal maniac, nor a genetic experiment left to fend for myself in the depths of a galaxy that has a tendency to look down on anything different.
"Do you want something? Or are you just here to stop us from working," Rocket said.
"Just call it reconnaissance," I said through the smirk I knew he hated.
He was incredibly easy to wind up. A few well thought out words and a look to make him feel uncomfortable. Once he felt uncomfortable, he did the rest of the work for me. In times like these you need to find your entertainment where you can.
Ever observant, Nebula's eyes almost sparkled with amusement.
"No offence, Goldilocks, but you don't strike me as a wallflower. If you're there, make yourself useful."
"Can't help if I don't know what I'm helping with."
"And yet history, Terran and otherwise, is full of morons duped into working on things they can't comprehend."
"It is an enhanced communications relay," Nebula said.
"C'mon robo-girl, she's not gonna get it."
"Oh no, fuzz ball. You're totally right," I sighed, "I can't possibly understand that you're piggybacking on Carol's tracking modifications to Stark's tech to boost the comms signal. I'm guessing you're adjusting it to cover the whole galaxy?"
I stepped closer, arms folded, pretending to inspect the work they were doing. Rocket looked between Nebula and me, wrench hanging uselessly in his hand.
"She already told you. Some sort of assassin's code, right? Sisterhood always has each other's back, yeah," he said.
"I have not. And I am unaware of such a code," Nebula answered, somehow managing to make it sound threatening.
"Not all of us on this planet are morons, Rocket."
"Yeah, well. I have yet to meet an unmoronic Terran. Be sure to point them in my direction when you think you've found one, so I can prove you wrong."
He jumped down from his vantage point that almost put him eye level with me and marched in my direction, trying to get all up in my face. Except he only came to my knees. Though, he still had the wrench in his hands, so he might be an ankle biter, but he was a weaponised one.
Nebula picked him up by the collar and put him back to his previous station.
"Refrain yourself. Act like you belong in a dog fighting pit and I will find you one."
He muttered under his breath at Nebula's words but turned back to what he was doing.
"What's taking you guys so long?" I asked, remembering what brought me there in the first place. "Not that I don't love how noisy this all is, but it's making it difficult to concentrate on my work."
"Pah," Rocket exhaled, unable to help himself, "your work, protecting all the Terrans. What about the rest of us, huh? Not giving much thought about all the others suffering out there."
"Aren't you guys the galactic travellers? I figured that's what you'd be doing. You know, an Avengers and Guardians team up."
"What gives you that idea?"
"Why else would you be upgrading our comms system? Surely you don't plan on making personal calls."
He sighed, hanging his head from the toll talking to me was taking. Nebula almost smiled, again.
"We don't have all we need," she said, "your planet is not advanced to our satisfaction, it is difficult to find the parts and creating them takes more time than it would elsewhere."
"Huh, well. If only there was an unmoronic Terran around who could take you somewhere that might help."
Nebula cocked her head and Rocket didn't react. I swear I did my best not to mess with him. Like I said, he deserved a bit of leeway given all he's gone through. But I started walking away before I could really stop myself and I was just thankful the smile on my lips was something he couldn't see when he called out.
"Alright, alright. You got me hooked," he jumped down once again and Nebula followed along behind, "what you got?"
He muttered all the way to the lift and continued his under-the-breath-tirade until the doors opened up to the floor we wanted. There's a vault under the compound, but above that is a treasure trove of retired Avengers equipment. Tony is a man who hates idle hands, and to keep his busy he tinkered more than a few suits, weapons and gadgets into existence. Every time we got an upgrade we put the old stuff down there.
Trust me when I say there was a lot in there.
"Since Earth is so uncivilised," I said, "it might not be quite to your standard. But if you're going to find anything useful it'll be here."
What lay before me was the history of our ragtag group of heroes. The journey of how we started and how we ended. The rise and fall of the Avengers.
And it was about to get plundered by a raccoon.
"I don't know what you expect us to find in this dump," he said, not able to completely hide the glee in his voice, "but something useful might pop up. Could at least taken us back to that Wakanda place, that's where the real gizmos are."
"Out of the question. Their royal family is sacred to them and pilfering through Shuri's creations is an insult," I said, "as you well know."
"But-"
"Just take a look."
Nebula had already wandered away by this point, a list in her hand as she inspected several items closely. Rocket skulked off in his own direction, ignoring the combat gear displayed proudly in alcoves along the left wall. I spotted my old suits, every one since I left Shield - or you know, since I destroyed Shield.
And next to my old stuff was Clint's.
The two assassin's tied together, always.
Almost always, at least. Whatever he's doing I hope he's okay. Not dead in a ditch, or drunk in a flea-bitten motel.
The bow hanging up by his latest suit was the one they confiscated from him after Germany. He always knew there was a risk of being caught and stripped of his arms and armour. And he was a sentimental man, if a little superstitious. There was no way he was going to risk losing the bow he'd wielded his entire Shield career. No, he kept that at home.
Bet it's with him now though.
I picked up one of the arrows. Deceptive in its simplicity. The only time he'd ever pointed one at me flashed through my head. If he'd done as ordered I wouldn't have had a chance to make amends for anything. Wouldn't have been a part of the Avengers or gotten to know Laura and the kids.
If he'd killed me like he was supposed to I wouldn't be feeling all of this pain.
I pressed too hard on the tip of the arrow, slicing my thumb and bringing me back to the present.
There was an odd slithering sound and I looked over to see Rocket dragging a sheet behind him, piled high with his haul.
"This is a start, good of you to share."
"Oh, I'm not giving it away for free," I said, putting the arrow back and wiping my thumb on my jeans, "both of you join the Avengers and you can have at it."
"How about we don't, and we take the stuff anyway?"
I flashed him my most innocent smile and mixed it with my calmest voice.
"A lot of people in this world are scared of me. Do you really want to risk finding out why?"
I swear I heard him gulp.
22 June 2018
Hi Tom,
If the recent tragedy has highlighted anything it's that no one should take the time they have for granted.
It's a luxury, not an essential.
Every second we live is a second more than so many other people. To wish it away, the time you have, is almost criminal.
You know me, though, I've never shied away from the criminal element within. As soon as the day started, I wanted it to be over.
I spent much of the night hanging around outside Thor's door. I heard crashing as I walked past on my evening wanderings and thought he'd hurt himself. As I was about to enter, the muttering reached my ears, then a crackle of electricity and more crashing.
Figured it was best to keep a barrier between us, but I listened in case the temper faded and he needed something.
It did fade, straight into sleep.
It was almost dawn, we had a meeting at noon and Rhodey planned to be here pretty early in the day. My makeshift office in the living area seemed the best place to go. That's when I bumped into Steve, no metaphor there, I walked straight into him and it was only his firm grip on my arm that stopped me from landing on my ass.
He was dressed for a run, an edgy set to his posture said he'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed and not a word was uttered between us when he headed for the door.
That's when I knew today was going to be like pulling teeth.
In the darkness of my past I've witnessed people having their teeth pulled, did it to them myself, sometimes. It's even been done to me.
So trust me when I say it was a fair comparison.
Dawn became mid-morning. Rhodey turned up, we took our habitual walk to the dock and caught up. Then a ship appeared out of nowhere over the compound to signal Okoye's arrival. As we went to greet her, Carol landed gracefully on the grass. We escorted them to a conference room Bruce hadn't taken over, to find Nebula already standing in the corner and Rocket hovering around a bin. When we entered he huffed and climbed his way into a seat.
Steve showed up. Not late for the meeting, but late by his standards.
Several of us in one place. It was almost unnatural.
The talk wasn't easy, but neither was silence when there were so many people around. Carol and Rocket rubbed each other the wrong way. Something the raccoon was good at doing.
Bruce had passed on the meeting, while he was trying to figure out what was going on with him and his other half, he felt he couldn't contribute anything to the Avengers. Still not understanding he was wanted for more than just the brute strength the Big Guy provided.
I had my arms folded and watched everyone, not able to stop myself comparing them to the original group once gathered around a conference table on the helicarrier all those years ago. Clint was missing then too.
Steve sat to my left, also with folded arms but he wasn't looking at anyone. His eyes so far away, a slight frown turning his lips down and crinkling his brow. Nebula still stood in her corner, separate from the rest but her heavy glare made sure we didn't forget her looming presence. Okoye sat ramrod straight, accompanied by one of her Dora Milaje who stood behind her chair. Rocket stood in his chair, struggling to see over the table otherwise, and refusing some cushions to boost him up. Rhodey was on my left, his face unreadable to the newcomers. To me it said something like 'is this what we have to work with?'
And then there was Carol, the only one who was smiling despite the barbs Rocket sent her way. She and Okoye were the only ones who'd flicked through the file placed in front of them.
I looked at Steve, he still wasn't present. So, I cleared my throat.
Everyone fell silent, including Rocket. Colour me surprised.
"Thanks for coming, I know we're all busy with other things," I said, wondering how to keep so many people from such different backgrounds interested. "The UN wants the Avengers back-"
"What's a UN?" Rocket interrupted.
"You got the document?" I said.
"Yeah," he waved it me.
"There's a glossary in the back for any Earth terms you and Nebula might not be familiar with."
"I ain't stupid."
"No one said you were, but even a genius can't know everything," I said, doing my best to stay patient. The lack of sleep really working on my nerves.
"Wanna bet?"
"Sure, let's call Tony and see."
Rhodey laughed and even Steve's small frown disappeared for a while. I think it went to spend some time on Rocket's face.
"Speaking of Tony," Carol said as she leant forward to grab a pastry from the pile in the middle of the table, "is he a part of this team?"
"He's not taking an active role," I said, thinking back to the day at his house. I gave him the choice and no one was really surprised he declined.
"He'll still be supplying us with equipment, though," Rhodey added, "no one knows how to kit out the Avengers quite like Tony Stark."
"Shame, I was looking forward to working with him. A man who can make a suit capable of withstanding a moon has got some serious fuel burning in his brain."
"Anyway," I said, channelling Maria Hill as best I could. The sudden thought of her twisted my heart, I pushed it to one side, "we have the opportunity to amend the Sokovia Accords to something more workable, it's in the glossary, Rocket," I added as he went to interrupt again.
"Why do you not tear the Accords apart?" Nebula asked from her corner.
I looked at Okoye, not really sure where she stood on the matter. Both her kings had been for the Accords.
"Some of what they represent is necessary, that much we can agree on," I looked at Steve and he nodded, dragging his eyes to meet mine, "but a lot of what's in there are ideas pitched by people who will never be in danger of needing to make decisions in the field. Some of you here know a lot more about the other races out there, what's possible and what's not. But on Earth it's all very new to us. When you come up against something new it takes trial and error to win that fight, and we have to figure it out quickly."
"Agent Romanoff is correct," Okoye said, "I have read the Accords, was privy to some of the discussions King T'chaka had regarding their creation. Many of the recommendations are superfluous. More about controlling that which they do not understand instead of keeping the wider public safe."
"You know, sounds to me like the people hiding in their offices and giving orders are the ones that need fixing. Not the people fighting the fight," Rocket said.
Steve, Rhodey and I all gave our version of 'you got that right', while Carol and Okoye nodded. Nebula remained as passive as the woman from the Dora Milaje.
There was a moment's silence as we reflected on Rocket's words and wished it were an easy thing to change.
"Okay, so question. I'm still catching up on stuff. If these Accords are so bad," Carol said, pointing at me and Rhodey, "why did the two of you sign them?"
"Too much collateral damage. I'm a military man. I swore to protect people," Rhodey said.
"If we didn't do what we did on Sokovia the whole planet would've been wiped out. You know that," Steve said, the edginess from earlier in the day not worn down by his morning run.
"And if Ultron didn't exist then no one would have died, Steve."
"So the rest of us are punished because Stark couldn't help himself?"
"Funny, I don't remember Stark being involved with what happened in Lagos."
"Shut up," I said to the both of them, a deadly silence followed as I swallowed my temper. "Stark did what he did because he wanted to protect everyone. He went too far with something even he didn't fully understand. Can you blame him for wanting something in place that would stop him from making that mistake again? And what happened in Lagos was an unfortunate accident. Rumlow was the one who set the bomb off, if Wanda hadn't reacted as quickly as she did so many more people would have died."
"But Nat, the fact remains that if the Avengers weren't in Lagos those people wouldn't have died."
"What's your point, Rhodey? Because that's also true of every single conflict that's ever happened. If we didn't intervene, more people would have died later on. The same goes for New York, Washington and Sokovia. It's always been about damage limitation, not damage avoidance. Unless we find someone who can reliably predict the future, the latter is impossible."
He looked like he wanted to spit at me, the indignation in his eyes was one of the most intense emotions I'd seen cross his face. But then he played the words back in his head and came to a begrudging acceptance. The only difference between Lagos and similar events throughout history was that Lagos was perpetrated by someone with exceptional powers that made her different. Wanda's mistake was no different to a drone taking out its mark and a couple of dozen other people surrounding it - innocent or otherwise. I carried on as Rhodey remained silent.
"What the Accords fail to take into consideration, even though it's mentioned on every other page, is that we're not alone. There are other things out there and sometimes they come here. How can a planet as ignorant as ours know how to defend itself against the unknown? There is a bigger picture we need to keep in focus, the Accords as they are only look at a little bit of it."
The rest of my words hung on the prickly silence. Steve was looking at the table again, Rocket was sniggering in agreement at Earth being ignorant. Carol seemed to agree with that assessment too.
"The death of my compatriots is more than unfortunate, it is tragic," Okoye said, "but they would not want their demise used as a tool to give governments the ability to make this world less safe. And I believe if King T'chaka was here he would support revisions to the original document. As would King T'challa."
"Right," Carol piped up again, "so that's Rhodey settled, but what about you, Nat? Why did you sign it?"
"Can't steer the ship without a hand on the wheel," I shrugged. "It would only be a matter of time before the Accords were amended."
"I like your style, Goldilocks."
"Good to know we can agree on something, Rocket. Right, Rhodey can speak now."
"In the documents in front of you you'll find an amended version of the accords Nat and I have been working on. We've included what we remember of the original objections and since we've actually had time to go over it, we've added a few new ones. We've also whipped up an addendum to cover any Avengers operating off world."
He carried on for some time, long enough for the pile of pastries to whittle down to the dregs. His explanations were dotted with questions from the others, we both took turns to answer. When everyone was satisfied with their knowledge and understanding Rhodey wrapped up.
"Last time these Accords were thrown at the Avengers without much time to go over them. I want to avoid that this time round. Go through this again, make sure you're happy, and see if you have any ideas."
Just as everyone was about to get up and go, Nebula decided to contribute.
"Who's the leader?" she asked, flicking through her copy.
"Do we need one?" Rocket said.
"When teams like this try to be democratic they fail," she replied. "If you want to succeed there needs to be a leader."
"She's got a point," Steve said.
"Can we just elect you and Nat," Rhodey asked, pointing at us, "you guys ran it last time."
"And look how well that turned out," Rocket scoffed.
"Hey fur-face, that's not exactly fair." Carol.
"No, he's right," Steve said, "I helped to split the team apart last time. Nat was the only one who made any sense during the Accords. My vote goes to her."
Are you kidding me? In the back of my mind I heard Clint's laughter when I told him I was going to co-lead the Avengers with Captain America. If he could hear this he'd be doubled over and struggling to breathe for laughing.
"Steve," I said, trying to get him to look at me but he refused.
"Okay then, everyone in favour of Nat taking the helm raise their hands," Rhodey said before I could get a word in. Everyone raised their hands.
Wait, what?
"Glad that's sorted then," Carol said, grabbing her folder and the pastry dregs, "we'll go and look these over. Avengers, disassemble."
Everyone filed out, Rhodey hesitated a little. Until he saw the look I levelled at Steve, then he hightailed it outta there. I think Steve felt it too, he tried to slip out his seat and into the corridor.
"What was that?" I said, stopping him in his tracks.
"I don't want an argument."
"Good thing I'm not giving them out then."
He turned to face me, and genuine anger flashed in his eyes. For the first time I could reconcile him with the man who beat the crap out of Tony.
"The Accords. Project Insight. There isn't much difference between them. Except this time we're the weapon an organisation like Hydra can use against the world."
"It's not a one-way street. Do you really think after everything that's happened Rhodey won't be on the lookout? Or that Stark won't lend a hand if we need to hack into a government. Jesus, Steve. Who's to say the Avengers won't turn on people. I mean, we've all proven pretty susceptible to brainwashing. If we stay autonomous who'll stop us?"
"I just don't like it, Nat."
"Really? I couldn't tell. Dumping all that responsibility on me in there. What the fuck were you thinking?"
"A leader needs a clear head. No matter the disaster yours always is. It was clear then, it's clear now," his was a cold fury. It chilled the room and froze my tongue.
Over the years, a lot of people have said a lot of things to me. What he said wasn't really an insult, more an accusation.
It hurt a lot.
Maybe the most.
"This isn't like you, Steve."
"Well, the world had someone like me and look what happened. So maybe to fix it, it needs someone who's not like me."
"That doesn't make sense," I hoped it would lift his mood a little. It didn't.
"Does anything anymore?"
He turned on his heel and left.
Clint was a little ashamed to admit he was glad some of the heat had gone off him. Not that anyone was really fully angry at Steve, just perplexed. Like Clint was after Tokyo and Nat updated him on everyone's activities during his five-year sabbatical. The Steve she spoke of was not the one he had known.
Not that he was one to talk.
Laura suggested everyone take a break, she herself struggling with the mixture of emotions running through her. Clint imagined they were very similar to his own. Confusion at the way Steve had acted, grief that even in the small ways Natasha's pain was never ending, and pride at everything the red head took on. Reading about all these projects and endeavours she wanted to nurture and knowing what they had grown into was as heartrending as it was uplifting. She was not the same person he was ordered to kill all those years ago. In the shadow of the greatest disaster to hit the universe, she became the person she was always meant to be.
And he'd missed it.
Everyone felt heavier after her last few entries, despite them being much lighter in tone. Steve, of course, was thrown back to a dark time. Wanda was reminded of one of the worst moments of her life but was amazed at how easily Natasha stood by her years later. Fury and Hill kept up their particular brand of stoic silence.
The heaviest part of all, for everyone in that room, was the conversation between their two dead friends. An exchange that would have otherwise slipped into the infinite ether of history. And yet it was an exchange that highlighted the best of both of them.
The incredibly forgiving nature of two people who no one liked to forgive.
The humour. The friendship. The compassion.
Always there.
No matter what.
A/N: I was nervous about writing Tony at length but it ended up being a lot of fun. I hope it came across just as fun to read.