A/N: Hi guys!

I hope you're all safe and well.

I just wanted to say to everyone who's reading, favouriting, following and reviewing. There's a lot going on in the world at the moment, so thank you for taking the time to read.

24 June 2018

"Does anything anymore?"

What do you think Tom, does anything make any sense anymore?

I feel like I've asked myself that question every minute since Steve asked it. And I'm no closer to finding an answer.

The chill from his words still hasn't left me either. A clear head was always an asset. That's what I was taught. In the Red Room.

It was true at Shield, too.

A clear head delivered the results needed for both.

When did it become a bad thing?

Maybe I shouldn't think too much on his words. Unless delivering a speech at crunch time, Steve's not the greatest at expressing himself.

But he's another friend in pain. How do I help him?

Another question I don't know how to answer.

25 June 2018

I've decided that maybe it's not a question I want answer right now.

Thanks to Steve's impromptu bowing out of the lead role, I have paperwork spewing from my ears. Maybe even my nose.

Somehow, during my tenure in SHIELD as scary-ass-agent I also picked up a reputation for not doing paperwork. I'm not really sure how.

Don't get me wrong, stacks of forms and reports don't get me all warm inside, but I also don't see the point of prolonging it. It was a necessary part of every mission and essential to the running of the organisation. I turned the paperwork in as soon as I got back to base.

Always.

The only exception being when the Winter Soldier shot me, the first time - I was too busy replenishing my blood supply and being in a medically induced coma (more for the benefit of the doctors and nurses than mine. When I'm delirious I tend to jump back to all those enforced Red Room visits to the medical wing. Let's just say, I never got a lollipop or sticker for being a good girl).

Anyway, back to the point. Just because I was prompt with my paperwork doesn't mean I enjoyed it. And yet I'm shackled to my desk churning out report and assessment after report and assessment. When I wasn't on those two fine things, I was once again revising the Accords in line with suggestions from the team and legal advice from the lawyer because, damn, Rhodey really didn't want it to be like last time. Then there was the opening and funding of different Worldwide Orphan Overall Protection Services facilities.

Or WOOPS for short.

If that was the best name I'm not sure I want to know what the other options were.

Just for the name alone, I'm regretting being associated with it.

Every facility across the world had the exact same functionalities and was of the same quality. And of course, Wakanda refused to have one of a lower standard than the schools their toddlers went to, so we had to upgrade each and every one of them with the Wakandan tech.

Tony was very happy. He got to go to Wakanda and play with their toys and everything.

28 June 2018

Hey Tom,

I've pretty much been everywhere on Earth. It's one of the perks of being SHIELD's number one spy.

Huh, there's a million dollar arms deal going down in Jordan? Better send in Natasha.

Oh really? A drug smuggling ring in Peru? Well, we've just the person for that.

A top scientist who wants to defect from North Korea, you say? You've guessed it, the Black Widow will be right there.

I have the places I like to go and the ones I really don't. I can get by without speaking English most of the time, and odds are I have a stash of the right currency hidden somewhere nearby.

I'm well prepared for most places most of the time.

And then the stars above turned into a destination.

The one place I never expected to go to was space. Let alone to a planet like The Garden, with people from across the galaxy.

Despite telling us we would travel the globe, the Red Room kept our minds small - all the better for them to manipulate us. The only world that mattered was between those four walls, all the rest was a mission.

The girl I was then, left hand cuffed to her bed and surrounded by the soft breaths of the other cuffed and sleeping girls, could never have imagined the world beyond the one she inhabited.

Could never have thought she would look at the sky differently.

The empty blue, once so calm, was an open field for our next visitors. Every sky of clouded grey could hide the next threat.

The sorrowful stars twinkled, together. Looked down on the Earth, together. Hid the loneliness of a life lived light-years apart, together. And maybe they even watched as an army headed straight for us, cloaked by our limited knowledge of what lay above. Perhaps they can see other people out there, looking up at them and wondering if there's a way to unvanish everyone.

Or maybe we really are the only people in the universe trying to find an answer.

29 June 2018

Alright, it's official.

The Avengers are back in business. We have the Accords and they seem fairer.

One of the concessions was to let the UN elect a member to the team. Because of all his work facilitating the Accords to begin with and this time round, not to mention the horrific injury he gained defending them, that title went to Rhodey.

We knew it was going to, and that's earned us a reprieve for as long as he remains on the team. His replacement is a bridge we'll have to cross when we come to it.

Of course, there was an issue once they realised I was running things, but leave Rhodey in a room with anyone for a length of time and they always come round to his way of thinking. I'm not sure what he said to convince them. I'm happy not to know.

Meanwhile, we've kept a sense of autonomy. We don't need to run everything by the UN and the Register has been buried away, but we do have to communicate better with the countries and cities we might be visiting. Since Rhodey's the diplomatic one I think I'll give him that responsibility. People know how to respond to someone like him. Never quite so sure what to do when faced with me.

6 July 2018

Hi Tom,

Since the Accords were accepted and the Avengers made official there have been a rush of meetings and conference calls to get the last few bits in place. I won't bore you with the detail.

But we've all agreed that our off-worlders need to go as soon as possible. Carol's already headed off a few times so we can test how functional Rocket and Nebula's little project is.

All systems go.

I've already spoken with her and suggested she leave first. She can scout planets and gauge the level of general sentiment quicker than the other two. She was happy to oblige. Not surprising, she's never struck me as someone who likes sitting around and doing nothing.

Which might explain why she caught up with me on my run this morning. I don't often get time for it, and when I do my mood doesn't like to give much leeway to anything beyond the punching bag.

I might have to change that though. As I turned at the tree line the gentle trill of birdsong washed over me. It was one of the nicest things I'd heard in a while.

Then it was interrupted by a stomping storm of footsteps and a nickname I can do without.

"Hey ballerina," Carol said and stumbled just as she caught up.

"Not as graceful on the ground as you are in the air."

"What can I say, I'm a sucker for the sky. But I can still put one foot in front of the other and that's all that matters."

She wasn't uncoordinated, far from it. But she ran like she had to, not like she wanted to. I let her regain her balance and spoke a few steps later.

"Can I help with anything?"

"Does it have to be all business all the time? Maybe I just decided I wanted to spend some time with you before I head off."

"Why?"

"We have a mutual friend and stories to share."

"So, you want to talk about Nick?"

"You call him Nick? Interesting."

I resisted the urge to quirk my eyebrow at her. It didn't escape my notice she called him Fury and I wondered if he'd rattled off his call-me-by-my-surname-and-only-my-surname speech he gave everyone. Maria and I heard it for the first time together, and with a single look we made a pact to always call him by his first name. We did it so much it became habit, then it became natural.

The occasions were rare when we would call him by his surname.

Every now and then he would make a show of irritation.

We never believed him.

Carol took my silence as a lack of interest rather than an all-too-common moment of contemplation.

"Okay, so you got me. It is about business. I just want to know why you're so determined to branch into intergalactic relations?"

"Why?"

"I haven't worked with a team since the Kree and they weren't all they were cracked up to be."

"And you think if I had an ulterior motive I'd come right out and tell you?"

"I'm good at spotting a liar?"

"And I'm good at deceiving."

"Not really making me feel that great about teaming up with you guys."

We ran a few more paces as I thought of something that would pacify her. Faced with her experience out there, my reasoning was naive. But it was also the truth.

"The universe is suffering because we failed. I want to stop it. Any leads about the Infinity Stones, I want to hear them. Rumours about something else that can help, whether it's magical, mystical or mythical, I want to know. Any threats out there that exist because we couldn't stop Thanos, I want to stop them. People in danger anywhere, I want to help them."

"You want a lot of things."

"There's only one thing I want. It just happens to be made up of trillions of things."

"You really think we can get them back?"

"If there was a way to get rid of them all in the first place, there has to be a way to get them back. The universe is too big for it not to be a possibility."

"I see why Fury likes you," she said and I was thankful for her use of the present tense, "you're every bit as stubborn as he is."

We laughed together just before she stumbled, not having seen the small burrow hidden by tufts of grass. She jostled into me and we had to stop or fall.

"Alright then boss, I'm a soldier happy to serve," she said once we were recovered.

I was covered in sweat and blades of grass stuck to my ankles. We were only halfway around the perimeter of the compound and I felt the urge to throw it in and head back to my air-conditioned office. Then a bee buzzed past, lazy as it bumbled along.

There was a time when I didn't believe in miracles.

Now, whenever I saw a bee or heard a bird, my days were full of them.

"Do your own thing. You know the terrain better than I do," I said once my mind was back to itself, "keep your ear to the ground and listen out for all the things I mentioned. Coordinate with Rocket and Nebula, you can offer each other support if you need but remember they can't travel as fast as you. Make sure you keep me looped in and I'll let you guys know what's happening on Earth.

"Other than that, it's all as we said before. Steve and I will base our operations here and we'll respond to any threats across the globe. Rhodey will be based in Washington and first responder if necessary. Okoye is our eyes and ears in the Southern Hemisphere and, if they can spare the bodies, the armies of Wakanda will be our support. We'll hold team conferences monthly and communicate via email the rest of the time, though the line will always be open. Try and get back here whenever you can, just to touch base."

"Yes ma'am," she said and actually saluted me.

"You really don't need to do that."

"Why not? You're our leader. Though, if you don't mind me saying, I get the impression you think you shouldn't be."

I shrugged.

"We all have to make do with what we have," I said.

She looked like she wanted to say more but thought better of it. Without speaking we both started up again, picking the pace up a notch, as if she heard my desire to get away from our last few words as fast as we could.

When we reached the compound I was in desperate need of a shower and Carol didn't look much better. It was hotter out there than it looked. We got in the lift together and I knew that as soon as she was refreshed she would head out.

No fuss.

No fanfare.

"Good luck out there."

"Thanks, ballerina. I'm looking forward to it," she grinned. "I meant it, you know. I have some stories to tell about Fury and I'm willing to share. There's a real doozy of a one about his eye."

"Next time you're here, I'll have the vodka out and you can tell me all about it."

The lift dinged and the doors opened.

She stepped out.

Winked.

And disappeared behind the metallic doors as the lift took me to my floor.

10 July

Hi Tom,

All this paperwork might be the answer I needed to my insomnia. I swear, one more proposal and I'm going to sleep for a thousand years.

I have no idea how Pepper's put up with this crap for so long.

I'm itching to get back in the field but there are so many forms.

Though, I've just realised. One of the biggest perks of leading is delegation.

Get ready Steve, cos payback's a bitch and she looks a lot like me.

11 July 2018

Hi Tom,

A few years ago, more than I thought possible, Clint and I crossed paths for the first time.

He made a choice not to kill me.

I made a choice to accept his offer.

Figured I'd get some extra training, a chance to take down a few of the bastards who'd had a hand in how my life had gone, make some amends for the many horrors I'd committed, and then die once my luck had run out, as I should have when my partner and I both defied expectations.

Not once during that crossroads did I consider the path I switched to would lead me to reading Dr Seuss to Thor Odinson , God of Thunder.

Up to a couple of days ago I'd run out of ideas of how to help the hulking mass of weeping Asgardian. With every day that passed he was getting worse and worse. Switching from raging anger one day to hardly a shadow of the man he was the next. All the time getting further and further away.

Then, during a bout of nostalgic denial he mentioned how his mother used to tell him and Loki stories of the great legends. And my mind was bombarded with memories of how attentive he was as he listened to other's tales.

Maybe there was a way to quell the storm within.

I found all the stories I could. The ones everyone seems to have read as children that the both of us had missed out on.

Sometimes the greatest escape is found between the pages of a children's book. And if it would help his recovery, I'd be glad to break my no-last-chapter rule.

I started with Peter Rabbit. Figured it was short enough to start with, in case it proved to be a bad idea, but long enough to get a proper read on his reaction if he proved to like it.

We sat at his dining table, amongst the dirty cups, cutlery and crockery. It was small and cramped. He was slumped in his chair, arms folded and eyes no doubt seeing Thanos in Wakanda and Thanos in The Garden.

I cracked the book open.

A few pages in he looked over at it.

"That," he said, pointing at the cover, "is not a rabbit."

I looked it over.

"What is it then?"

"It's ridiculous with those large ears and fluffy tail. And why is it wearing a blue jacket?"

I sighed and put it to one side, careful not to taint it with whatever sauce had dried onto the table. I looked over Alice in Wonderland and dismissed it, if we read that then we'd have to read Alice Through the Looking Glass and I had a vague recollection of someone galumphing back with the head of the Jabberwock and figured cutting heads off was a touchy subject around Thor.

I put Peter Pan to one side too, knowing there was some fighting but not certain if decapitation was a feature. I don't think I ever appreciated how dark children's literature was.

So, in the end, I settled for the complete works of Dr Seuss. As soon as I opened the book the smell of its pages wafted upwards and I couldn't resist inhaling deeper.

"Is that customary? I have seen my brother do the same," he asked, the scar across his eye marring his quizzical look.

"Almost certainly," I said, stretching my arms over the table, offering him the book. Instead of taking it he straightened up in his chair, eyed me as if I might be playing a trick, then leant over and sniffed the pages.

"It is...satisfactory," he said before doing it a second time.

"It's my belief that the more you enjoy the smell of the book, the more you'll enjoy what it has to say."

"Why?"

"All part of the experience. And you know me, I'm all about the experience."

Where once that might have drawn a smile out of him, his features remained stoic. Nowadays that was the best reaction I could ask for.

I started to read.

He listened.

Dr Seuss was oddly enlightening.

Sometimes Thor would pipe up and say things like "Sam-I-Am is a formidable adversary." or "That cat is more mischievous than Loki." and I took it as a good sign.

He grew bored of sitting still and started to pace. I took a break from the book and ferried the dirty dishes to his kitchen to load up the dishwasher. I kicked a bag on the floor, tucked away beside the bin, just peeking out enough to get caught. It clattered and crinkled in a way only beer cans and bottles could.

And I found myself wishing that we were in a different book to the one we were in. A children's one that had minimal death and a happy ending. Where gods were helpful or cryptic and not drunk. And aliens were goofy and silly with the strangest of weaknesses but easy to defeat.

I want to say something but words are failing me more and more. They're not as ready as they once were. I want to give him comfort, but that has never been a strength. I want to admonish him but how will that help? I want to say the right thing because though words alone won't help him, they have a habit of lingering long after they're uttered and flipping a switch that gets all the other work started.

These ones just lingered in my throat, unwilling to come out.

A small ahem startled us both out of our thoughts and I cursed myself for letting my guard down.

Bruce stood beside the abandoned table, rubbing his hands together, glasses on the tip of his nose.

"Hey Nat," he smiled, not meeting my eyes and shuffling his feet, "sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. You're needed. Some Avengers business."

"We are needed," the god said and I could tell his mood had taken another swing, "Banner, Black Widow, we must go."

He tried to walk over to the scientist but stumbled, Bruce caught him. Concern splashed across his features as he shot me a look.

"Someone's been sneaking him alcohol," I said and gestured to my recent discovery, "I think I know, but can you try and find out who?"

"Sure," Bruce said as he escorted Thor back to his chair at the table.

"Are we going?"

"Not now, buddy," the scientist said, "it's nothing exciting. Nat can take care of it."

"Natasha!" He slammed the table with an open palm, I was surprised it didn't buckle under the force. "Bring me some beer. And green eggs and ham, I want to try this delicacy Sam-I-Am is so fond of."

Bruce hid a smile but couldn't quite stop his jerk of an eyebrow from jerking up.

"Don't judge," I said.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Agent Romanoff."

"Thank you. I've put dinner in the fridge."

He just smiled at me.

"What?"

"Nothing. I've - I've just missed talking to you. It's been a while."

I hesitated for a second, realising the last time we'd properly spoken to each other was before Sokovia. Everything since then had been about work or saving the world.

"Go," Bruce said, "I'll look after him."

Again, I wanted to say something. Regretted not having words at the ready like I was used to. So I said goodbye, because it was the only one that formed, and left.

12 July 2018

Hi Tom,

I'm going through another one of those sleepless phases.

I think it's been three nights now since I got so much as a wink.

Steve even had the gall to say I looked tired.

So I kicked him in the gut.

In my defence, we were sparring.

When it gets like this I find the artificial air in the compound makes it worse. The air conditioning dries out my eyes and that just highlights the weariness clawing away at my head and my arms and my legs.

At this point I head out to the dock. Even on a hot day there's a trusty breeze toying with the water. And, unlike the breeze available in the compound, this one is rejuvenating. Flowers scent the air in a way that suggests the summer is going to be a strong one.

I would prefer to sit on the edge and dangle my feet in the water, but the possibility of knocking my tablet into it is too high.

It's during this interlude that Nebula finds me.

Her footsteps cut through the persistent lapping of the lake against the shore.

"Hi," I say, without turning around. I close my eyes and enjoy the sun on my face for a few moments longer. I know she is in front of me when its gentle touch disappears and the back of my eyelids grow darker.

"Hello."

I open my eyes and can't decide if the look in hers is curious or angry. Unlike her furry partner, she's difficult to read. Much like Vision was.

"Rocket and I will be leaving."

"Can I help?"

We say at the same time. I feel a wry smile make is its way across my lips but her expression doesn't allow for levity.

"Sorry," she said.

"What for?"

"I've often been told I am abrupt."

"Not gonna get any complaints from me. Take a seat if you like."

"I would not."

Though she eyed the space next to me as if it was something she would like very much. I wonder of it's a hangover from her time with Thanos. She doesn't take comfort unless she feels she deserves it. The Red Room left me with something similar.

"When are you going?"

"We aren't sure. He wants to stock up on supplies first. I suggested speaking to you as leader of the Avengers."

She tested the name of our group on her tongue before saying it fully. It made her uncomfortable in the way saying Strike Team Delta had once put me on edge. Teams and groups aren't things people like us were made for.

"He's having a hard time adapting to the group dynamic?"

"I think he does not wish to replace the group he had."

"Tell him he's not replacing them. We're a means to an end. I'm sure he can appreciate that."

Nebula digested the words and nodded once she was satisfied.

"What about you? Not worried about replacing them?" I stood and moved to the edge of the pontoon, leaning against the support beam and wondered if the water was cold or as inviting as it looked.

"I was never a part of their group. We crossed paths. My sister was one of them," she paused as she spoke of her, "I had no place with them. Even within the Black Order, there was no place for me."

"I know that too well," I said.

"You have a place here, with these people."

"Yeah. It took a long time to find," I said, pushing the memories aside and turning to face her, "you have a place here too, Nebula. With these people."

The woman gave a minute nod, not believing the words I spoke. Then she took her seat upon the bench, and though she looked a little lost, a little uncertain, she also looked more than a little comfortable.

I shifted against the beam so I looked out over the water again. I saw a bird fly above the trees before diving back down. A question I'd wondered before makes its way to the surface and it's out before I could feel bad about asking it.

"Nebula, do you know if anything to do with the Black Order is still around? Maybe Thanos' other allies? Or did they disband when Thanos retired?"

"Men like Thanos are not content with a life of idleness. They would have remained close to hand should he decide on a further quest."

"Do they know you betrayed him?"

"I am not sure. I was captured on his ship, but he was a proud man and after his public humiliation on Titan he liked to keep his failures close to his chest. Gamora's betrayal with the Power Stone deepened that preference," she paused as the question filtered through and she allowed herself permission to ask, "why?"

"I want to ask you a favour," I said, "as discussed the best thing you and Rocket can do to start with is work with Carol and do recon wherever you can. I want to know how chaotic it is out there. But there's something else. I'm guessing Thanos didn't go into his Infinity Quest blind, there has to be research that he did to get the stones, to learn everything he could about them. And I want to know if there's anyone out there who can help us. The more we know about the stones then the better our chances of finding a way to reverse this."

"You want me to track down his research?"

"Please. But don't take any undue risk. We've lost enough people, I don't want to lose another."

"If I locate his research and anyone who might help, am I to contact you first?"

"Yes. Three heads are better than one."

She paused for a couple of seconds.

"Yes. If you think it will help undo what my father did, I am happy to help."

"Are you sure?"

Again, she paused for a few seconds, allowing her eyes to go distant as she thought something over.

"This sisterhood of assassins Rocket mentioned. Does it exist or is it one of his jokes?"

"It's one of his jokes," thoughts of Yelena ambushed me along with all the pain that came with her, then I looked at Nebula and her eyes flickered from one spot to another and she played with her fingers in the most human display I'd seen from her, "doesn't mean it can't exist though. Someone's got to have our backs."

She smiled. Just a twist of her lips, but it reached her eyes.

"Then yes, I am sure."

13 July 2018

And they're gone.

Everyone gathered outside to say goodbye to what was left of the Guardians. Even Thor.

"Goodbye, Rabbit," he bellowed, "and lady of blue."

His voice brighter in a way that made me think Rocket had found a way to get even more alcohol to him.

"Yeah, yeah, you too Thunder God," Rocket said, almost ducking his head in humiliation. He looked up at me. "Look after him, will you?"

I nodded.

"Stay safe, both of you."

Nebula inclined her head before climbing aboard.

"And, take care of yourself Goldilocks. Can't lead us if you're gonna waste away."

"Sure thing...Rabbit."

It's only after their ship disappeared from view that I realised it was Friday the Thirteenth. I don't pay much mind to superstition, but I hope it's not a bad sign.

"Kicked in the gut, huh Rogers? She catch you off guard or were you just being a gentleman?" Fury asked, even his eye patch teased the soldier.

"Careful Nick, I for one would love to hear the story about how you lost your eye," Hill cut in, "Barton, can you skip ahead and see if we can get any spoilers for it."

Clint opened his mouth to say something but the death glare Fury shot his way was enough to make him swallow his words.

"I think I remember that kick," Steve muttered to Wanda, rubbing his stomach, "she even managed to bruise me."

"Never tell a woman she looks tired, Steve. Everyone should know that," Wanda said, patting his shoulder in sympathy.

"Yeah, and definitely not if that woman happens to be Natasha Romanoff," Hill said, "you won't know what hit you."

"Sounds like you speak from experience," Laura said. She didn't know much of Clint's and Natasha's exploits at SHIELD, both of them taking the confidential part of their work very seriously.

"More experience than I care to share."

"I can't imagine auntie Nat being violent," Cooper said to snorts of laughter from all those who worked with her. "What? She read us stories, played our games, helped us draw, watched Disney with us and made us dinner whenever she babysat."

"And helped us with our homework," Lila added, "I remember at Christmas, when we were little, Coop and I would follow her around the house, singing Christmas songs at the top of our voices. She always sang them in Russian."

As the others learned more about the domestic side of Natasha, Clint looked back at the last few entries he'd read out, then ahead to what was to come.

As much as she was annoyed that Steve and Thor were distant and uncommunicative, she was being exactly the same. More of her writing turned towards the daily grind. The dull paperwork and meetings and the boring stuff no one wants to hear about.

She was feeling things. That was clear.

It was also clear that she had no desire to give them a name and bring them out in the light of day to study.

It's not the first time to happen. He'd lost count of the amount of times she balked at something most other humans could name and deal with, over the years. They were simple things she was always taught to repress.

Emotions would get her killed. If she repressed she would survive.

That was what the Red Room told her. And demonstrated on fellow students time and time again.

Survival was in her DNA, so she followed their teaching plan until she came to SHIELD. Then, whenever she came across something she would usually close off she found Clint and he always knew what she needed.

A companion to help her name what was there and to say it was okay.

When he started up again he read out the snippets of work with as much passion as he would the other entries.

Every word was precious, after all.