2 September 2019

Hey Tom,

I have a theory.

It's not a good theory. As with all the other unwanted crap floating around my mind, I figured it best to put it down here. That way it might stop haunting me.

I think the people who disappeared were a strategic move. That perhaps it wasn't as random as Thanos liked us to believe. Without the people taken from us we can't possibly pose a threat to his vision of the universe.

Just think about it. Both Nick and Maria are gone. If this was all about balance at least one of them would have survived. Either or would have been a better choice to fill the shoes I'm currently wearing. They have experience in running a mass operation all about defending the world and gathering intelligence. Under their guidance the pitiful, almost grassroots, operation I have going on would flourish. Outposts on planets, new recruits gathered by Carol, Rocket and Nebula as they scout the galaxy. The Avengers and the Guardians growing by the day.

Yet here I am, struggling to keep hold of the ones I do have.

Thanos left Thor behind because he knew his failure was worse than death for him. He knew the responsibility of living when most of his people were dead would destroy him. When Thor arrived in Wakanda I'd never seen him so powerful, cutting swathes of our enemies down as lightning rippled through his very core. And it still hadn't done him any good. Power is useless if you're not willing to use it. And Thor was not willing.

And though Steve is still with us, though he was always our rallying point, he doesn't wear that burden well anymore. Thanos took Bucky and Sam from him and the futility of everything crushed Steve more than anything ever had before. After years of fighting, years of struggle, years of overcoming the odds, Steve saw the symbol of everything he fought for disappear when his best friend turned to ash. In the brief time Thanos fought Steve he measured the strength of his will and conviction and knew how to ruin him.

Wanda was one of the most powerful of all of us. She had the strength to destroy one of the Infinity Stones and hold the Titan back. Without her unique perspective on things, without her, we were hobbled.

Whittle the Avengers down by striking at their loved ones.

Take a man's family away and let him descend to madness. Watch the darkness consume him as he goes from hero to not-quite-villain. To something in between. From Clint to Ronin.

Take away the protégé but leave the wife-to-be and watch as another threat to the new natural order is neutralised while he seeks happiness in the face of the untold amounts of pain he harbours. So Ironman makes way for family man.

Leave a man to struggle against his successive failures; once as his stronger self and once as his smarter self. Distract him with that journey of self-discovery. It doesn't matter if he succeeds or not, the damage is already done. He already lost, and a victory in his lab won't bring anyone back.

That left two people. Two people he didn't need to bother with. Though we restarted the Avengers we were few and scattered and not enough. Rhodey and I drowning in the sheer amount of work that faced us. Cracking under the pressure from all sides; the super soldier without the will to fight, the assassin killing the wrong people, the god who isolated himself.

See Tom? All tactical.

Not only did he decimate the universal population, but he weakened us in such a way that it would be difficult to get back up and running at a capacity capable of fixing things.

I've fought a lot of people in my time, good guys and bad guys, but none so clever as him.

6 September 2019

Hey Tom,

Well, writing that down hasn't really helped. Now I just feel like I'm going crazy. That I'm a little too paranoid.

I just wish I knew what I was doing. I wish I knew what was going to happen next. I see people settling into this new normality and part of me just thinks 'c'mon Natasha, join them'.

But it's not in my nature to do what everyone else does.

Coulson was the first person to tell me that, you know. He said it was a good thing. That the world would be a boring and predictable place if everyone did the same thing. I said it would make my job a hell of a lot easier if they did.

He was a man who knew how to keep his cool. Sometimes in the depths of night I sit and think about what he would do if he was here, faced with this impossible turn of events. And just the presence of him in my mind soothes me. A reserved man, Coulson relied on his experience as much as he did instinct. He never ventured much into the field while I knew him - at least not the way Clint and I did - so his experience was more about the logistical. Not my favourite but I was no stranger to it.

So my thoughts went from him to my days throughout SHIELD. All that boring stuff I never gave much of a shit about while I was living through it. The briefings and debriefings, all of those wonderful logistics Coulson loved so much, the little snippets blasted into my ear whenever we had the luxury of remote support.

He was usually that calming voice on the other end of the line keeping us steady in the middle of whatever shit-storm we landed in. If it wasn't him it was Maria. Her hands were as safe as his. Her head as level as his. But her potential was so much more.

I don't think I've spoken about Maria much. But I owe her a lot. She might not have dealt with me day to day as Clint and Coulson did, but when she was put on Russian watch duty she handled me her own way. The kindness of the two men was almost too much to bear. Going from a life with no kind words or actions to one with just a bit was smothering. I didn't trust it

To this day I don't know if Maria saw that or if it was just the way she was, but while she was one of the few who gave me the benefit of the doubt she didn't make life easy on me. And that was something I recognised. Something I was familiar with. Clint and Coulson helped me feel more human, but Maria was the reason I knew all of it was real and not just another of the lies the Red Room spun. After a day spent with her it became easier to accept what the guys offered. Easier to trust them.

She was a logistical whizz too.

Sure, Nick ran a tight ship, but that was because he left her to take care of things while he kept all his secrets contained.

She should be the one sat here at the desk, you know. What I wrote the other day is true. She'd make something of this group. Under her leadership it'd be a force to be reckoned with.

But, I guess, I have what I have and I've done what I've done. It's up to me to make the most of it. I might not have Coulson and Maria with me in person, but I have my memories of them and the lessons they taught me.

Their expertise in one form or another.

12 September 2019

Hi Tom,

We had a mission. It didn't go to plan.

Well, it did. The plan just wasn't good enough.

It wasn't one we were reacting to, as so often seems the case lately. It was one we had plenty of time to prepare for, one that needed it because there were so many variables. But, you know, best laid plans and all that.

Rhodey and Steve raided a warehouse in the city. Slap bang in the middle of a heavily populated area. An arms dealer used it as a base of operations and our multiple surveillance jobs showed us it was as packed as an ant hill. Cronies crawled here, there and everywhere and cameras made sure they did so undisturbed.

We bandied about the idea of evacuating the area to keep civilians safe, but that would alert our prey to what was coming and there was a high probability they'd start attacking people in the streets to cause maximum chaos and increase their chances of getting some of their operation away. Not to mention without the element of surprise Steve and Rhodey didn't stand a chance.

I watched on the cameras as the events unfolded. They took out the guards they spotted and then Steve slipped inside. I hacked into their security system, which had the dual benefit of keeping an eye on him and keeping him off their radar. There were more people inside than we anticipated but it wasn't anything Steve couldn't handle. He continued his infiltration and took people out as he came across them, taking care to hide the unconscious bodies and tie their hands.

The mission was to take possession of the weapons and arrest the leaders and anyone else associated with them. And man did they have a lot of associates. Rhodey was keeping an eye on things outside, talking directly to the local police holding their positions. I had to send him in earlier than discussed. The police went with him and a long gun fight ensued.

Our surveillance had let us down. The fight had caused casualties. Officers in hospital with gunshot wounds. None of them fatal or life-changing. At least physically, you could never tell mentally. I've already wired money over to make sure they all got the best care. No civilians were caught in the crossfire, and that was something to be thankful for.

But Steve and Rhodey are in the living area, shouting at each other. Blaming each other. Neither of them take it well when something goes wrong and people are hurt. It's a personal affront to them. It tells them they're not good enough. That they did something wrong.

And because neither like it they tried to place the blame they had for themselves at each other's feet.

I've had to relocate to the roof.

Call me unprofessional if you want, but I may remind you it's also unprofessional to string your colleagues up to the ceiling by their ankles, and that's the impulse I had to walk away from.

We finished our debrief half an hour ago. One that showed with absolute clarity that there was nothing else we could have done. Even the government representative we had to dial in agreed the Avengers weren't at fault and we'd done a good job in getting those weapons off the street (and anyone who knows anything about the government knows that's about as rare as Nick Fury winking).

But that's not enough for those stubborn asses. No, they have to tear into one another instead.

No one ever gave Steve this shit when he was in charge.

Except maybe me.

In which case karma is biting me in the ass.

I'm leaving them to it, maybe they'll tire themselves out and we'll all get some peace. Oh, wait.

Bruce is yelling now.

Something tells me I need to go and investigate. Wish me luck, Tom.

13 September 2019

Hey there Tom,

I made a massive mistake.

Since he announced he had a magic formula to bring him and the Hulk together, I've filed Bruce away as someone not to worry about.

I mean, he's looked like a man at peace. Never have I seen him so serene, so calm, so accepting of himself.

Turns out the Doc is a good actor, or I'm just not so good at my job anymore. I regret writing him off like that.

By the time I scrambled off the roof, back through the open door and legged it down each flight of stairs, Steve and Rhodey had disappeared and a few furious crashes echoed from Bruce's lab.

Instinct flattened my body against the wall and insisted my ears tuned in for any Hulk-related sounds while I crept to his doorway. Even after so long without the Big Guy it was automatic. But rather than the monstrous grunts and groans of the ever-angry green giant, there came very human, very Bruce-sounding, mutterings.

They were different from his I'm-so-focused-on-my-work-I've-forgotten-there's-a-world-around-me mutterings. Those were calm and measured and were usually when he was glued to the spot in front of his whiteboard. But these ones, he paced from one end of the room to the other. He alternated between twisting his fingers and tugging at his hair. His glasses went from pushed right up against his eyes, to balancing on the tip of his nose, to tucked away in the pocket of his lab coat. The words that tumbled from his mouth hissed and fizzed. Sometimes he laughed and it was a cutting sound. If this was any other time there would be a heavy hint of green spreading across his skin. But even then, when anger and stress and anxiety coursed through him, the Hulk stayed away.

There were a few shards of broken mugs scattered across the floor mixed in, what I assumed to be, long-forgotten coffee. Some of his equipment was victim of his human rage too.

I watched as he spoke to himself, as he kicked aside the debris of broken cups, as he stopped and gripped at the edge of one of his tables with both hands. I thought he was going to flip it over, and send everything atop it flying (it was a lot of stuff), but he thought better of it. Instead of pacing again he stayed on the spot and looked up at the ceiling. His shaggy hair tumbled back and I marvelled at how I hadn't noticed how much it'd grown.

He turned on the spot and levelled me with a glare.

"How long have you been there?"

I shrugged.

"Come to tell me off, I suppose."

"No," I said, "I heard you shout at them. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

When his eyes met mine I knew he wasn't. He was a man full of anxieties, even without his other half being a threat. And I saw all the worries on show.

What if he made the Hulk worse?

What if he never came out of the experiment?

What if the Hulk never came back?

"Why?" He asked, brows furrowed so deep it looked like it hurt.

"Not often I hear you shout, Doc."

"So you're worried about the Hulk." He said.

"Worried about you."

He laughed and paced once again. He winced under my gaze but I didn't let up. In my experience if people were already talking to themselves then they couldn't help it if someone was there to listen.

"You should go," he said without looking at me, "I need to concentrate and I've had enough interruptions today." He tried to inject some venom into his voice but he missed the mark and he sounded desperate instead.

"Bruce, you need to take a break from this."

He stuttered to a halt in the middle of the room, his deep breaths had nothing to do with how much he'd walked. "I can't. This has to be right, Nat. I have to make sure this is right."

I left my spot in the doorway and approached him with caution. While it didn't take much to provoke the Hulk into attacking, it didn't take much to make Bruce flee. Guess the caution wasn't needed though, he seemed surprised when he realised I was right in front of him. To his credit he didn't flinch when I grasped both his shoulders.

"And how are you going to do that in your current state of mind?" He started to speak but found he didn't have an answer. "If you carry on right now, while you're this stressed and clearly not thinking straight, then it will go wrong."

He tensed and broke my grip as he stumbled towards the nearest table, the same one he almost flipped over earlier. For one heart-stopping moment I thought he was going to hulk-out. Instead he just gripped it and counted his breaths.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make it worse."

"You didn't," he said between gasps and I didn't quite believe him, "I just hate it because you're right. You're so goddamn right and I can't afford to get it wrong. What if something else pays us a visit from space? We need his strength. We'll always need his strength. And what if I do this and all I've done is get rid of him and you're just stuck with me. Maybe I should just leave this alone, Nat. Maybe I'm not meant to do this."

"Don't you dare," I said and stepped to his side, "don't you dare say that. I can feel it Bruce, deep in my bones you're supposed to do this. Just like I knew I was supposed to take the opportunity Clint gave me when we first met."

"But-"

"No. You felt it too. You started to look into it for a reason. You need to trust yourself."

Bruce took one last deep breath and stood up straight before running both hands through his hair again.

"I trusted myself before and look what happened. I became a monster."

I sighed. "We've been over this too many times to count. You," I prodded him in the chest, "are no monster. Nor is the Other Guy. And, just for the record, we need your intelligence just as much as we need his strength."

"But what if something goes wrong? What if I can't do it?"

"Didn't you say you could?"

"Huh?"

"The day before the wedding. Didn't you say you could?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then what's changed? From that moment to this, what's different?"

Bruce paused and thought back on the twelve months that have passed since he made his announcement. I watched him work through each thing he'd done and saw his body relax and breathing become less ragged.

"Nothing," he said, "not a damn thing."

"Then it sounds like you've got it all in hand, Doc," I said and headed for the door, "make sure you remember that."

"Where are you going?"

"I have some ass to kick and heads to bang together," I called over my shoulder and heard him laugh.

And it was the last one I heard. Steve and Rhodey didn't have much to laugh about, and they had even less after I was done with them. Phrases like 'enforced holiday' and 'desk duty' and 'paperwork' were all thrown about as promises. And when I felt like even that didn't do the trick I lumbered them with the press requests that had come through thick and fast.

"So, we're being punished for doing a good job," Rhodey said once I was done, "because you started all this off by saying we did a good job."

"You did a good job in the field," I said, "but back here the both of you have shown a complete disregard for your colleagues. And I mean for each other as well as Bruce."

"So," Steve said, "our punishment for not working well together behind the scenes is to...work together?"

"Yep," I said as FRIDAY brought a graphic to life in front of me, an effective way of telling everyone to piss off.

"She's either completely mad," Rhodey said to Steve as they left the room, "or she's an evil genius."

22 September 2019

"Where's Morgan?"

Two little words that I've learned to be terrified of, Tom.

Why?

Because I've spent most of the day answering that question on several different occasions after I offered to babysit.

What on Earth possessed me to volunteer the Avengers for such a thing? It's Pepper and Tony's anniversary. He wanted to do something special, which I'm sure translates to over the top, cheesy, and expensive.

Morgan the chaos monster made landfall at midday. We spent an hour getting Pepper to leave. Along with her child she left behind enough instructions to fill a manual and all the type of things usually associated with babies.

When I watched her go I figured it'd be easy. Four of us vs. one baby, though with the people standing beside me there was a good chance it would turn into one baby and three people in need of minding vs. one very harassed spy. But I'd dealt with two, then three, Barton children by myself, this one will be fine.

Except I was forgetting one thing.

Kinda important too.

This was the spawn of Stark.

Though more of her mother was softening her features, Morgan took after her father. By the end of the day I was surprised I didn't look up to find her inventing something.

The kid can't even crawl, yet she'd zoom from A to B quicker than she had any right to. If we took our eyes off her for a second she was almost out the door. Two seconds and we were asking that dreaded question that caused a ripple of panic in us all.

"Where's Morgan?"

There were so many close calls that had me ask FRIDAY to compile a list of everything that needed baby proofing throughout the compound. Then it struck me that it was something I should have taken care of before the event. We distracted her as much as we could with loud and colourful toys (which had a habit of hiding themselves everywhere, every time Steve sat on the sofa it yelled nursery rhymes at him, and if you dared to walk without looking you kicked something that jingled all the way across the floor), and the food which Rhodey accused of invading our fridge. Our repayment was full diapers and everything that came with it.

Despite the chaos and the mess and the panic, it was nice to have this little life in the compound with us. Evening saw each of us exhausted but smiling. None of us worried about anything happening outside our walls. Bruce was sat on the sofa and flipped through one of Morgan's padded books, Rhodey had stolen the chair at my desk and was spinning idly around in it as he stared up at the ceiling, Steve was sprawled in the middle of the floor and clutched a teddy bear I think he'd forgotten about to his side. I was also on the floor but had my back against the free side of the sofa. Morgan was sat in my lap and discovered she was fascinated with my fingers. She squeezed them and prodded and tapped. She giggled and I couldn't help but smile.

Bruce sighed and put down the book and looked around the room at all the non-child friendly things we'd hastily shoved out of the way. "There should be a film about this," he said.

"Three Men and a Baby," Rhodey said from my desk and stopped his spinning, "the closest we're gonna get."

"You've watched that?" I asked and arched my eyebrow at him.

"Um, no."

"Don't think that's close enough," Bruce said, "Four Avengers and a Baby is far more chaotic. Imagine if she had powers."

"Okay, now you're just thinking of The Incredibles," I said, "Morgan is not Jack-Jack. And I can't believe I actually said that sentence."

Bruce and Rhodey laughed.

"You know I have no idea what you guys are talking about," Steve said.

"Don't worry, I bet it won't be long before Natasha adds both films to your list," Bruce said.

"Damn right I am."

"Language," Steve smirked and looked affronted at the glare I shot him, "what? There's a baby present."

"A baby with a favourite," Rhodey muttered.

"Obviously Steve," I said, "he panics and pats her on the head. You know she's not a dog right?"

"You know what, Romanoff."

We all laughed and Morgan joined in. She gave up my fingers to reach out for a toy she'd dropped earlier. Steve and Bruce moved for it as Rhodey and I watched on.

"Anyone else worried how she's already got us all wrapped around her little finger?" He asked. "Or is it just me?"

It wasn't just him.