A/N:

Hi guys!

Happy holidays, merry Christmas and I hope this festive season is a bright spot in this crappy year.

I'm super sorry for the delay on this. Work was really busy and that coincided with a massive bout of writer's block and, before I knew it several weeks had gone past. I have some time off now though, so I'm hoping to write more and more of this for you.

And, just in case I don't post another chapter - happy New Year! Here's hoping 2021 is a better one.

1 May 2020

Hi Tom,

There are monuments all over. The Wakandan wall mural was the first to be revealed to the world and more followed in its wake.

Standing stones in San Francisco (already dubbed the Wall of the Vanished), gardens of reflection in Kyoto, a chamber of mourning in Athens; names carved into the walls and floor and ceiling, an eternal flame standing in the centre. Cenotaphs scattered from town to town and country to country. The Fourth Plinth in London's Trafalgar Square given a permanent resident in the form of a memorial statue, as sombre as the rest that populated the square.

So many different ways of remembering the disappeared, the Snapped, the vanished, the murdered. The space they used to occupy filled with lifeless replacements that honour less than a fraction of what they were.

Some of the memorials are garish and tasteless, others humble. And every single time one was introduced to the world my mind reintroduced me to names first thrown at me in the days I spent watching Friday calculate the post-Snap losses. Hard and fast and painful.

Two years of this strange and half-empty world.

I hope we can fill it again, with the people who should be here. With the disappeared, the Snapped, the vanished, the murdered.

I don't know if I can do it by myself though. And it's starting to look like I might have to. The others have moved on to their own things, found their ways of coping. Ways that look to the future and not to the past.

9 May 2020

Friend.

It's a funny word.

Means so much.

And so little.

There was a time in my life when it meant nothing. Just another word I used when it was convenient, when I needed to find my way into places. To my ears it always rung hollow, a meaningless bunch of six letters that made it easy to prey on people.

And never did I feel shame for manipulating them. Forcing them to like me, thinking we could be friends, then taking advantage of the bond they thought was strong, but I weaved out of their fragility for my benefit. If they were stupid enough to think friendship actually existed then it wasn't my fault if they felt betrayed.

They were the ones who opened their hearts.

It served them right.

It was at my lowest point I found my first friend. I hadn't asked for him. I didn't want him. I tried to push him away. But he always brushed my words aside and excused my actions and kept holding out a hand. I gave nothing but he gave everything and for the first time I saw the word had meaning.

It wasn't hollow and it wasn't sentimental.

It was real.

Friend.

I kept resisting. The Red Room was not a nice place and if it taught me one thing it was that everything good was temporary. The food they gave us could disappear, the beds we slept on could be taken away and the relationships we forged would be terminated.

If I accepted what he offered then it too would go. Nothing lasts a lifetime.

And I truly never meant to accept.

My intentions were to continue to rebuff him, make it clear I wasn't interested in anything more than a professional relationship. We were good as partners in the field but anything else, anything more, was unacceptable. I still can't pinpoint the moment I let that fall by the wayside, when I allowed him to start making that journey through my defences. But I did and somehow he wasn't just my friend, I was his.

Every day that went by I waited for it to implode, for it to stop working or for him to disappear.

He never did. Here was this good thing and it was sticking around. It wasn't temporary.

It turned out my heart had opened too.

I can never thank him enough for forcing the issue, but I can also never forgive him. I was safe behind my walls. The only way to hurt me was to hurt only me. He entered my life, breezing past everything I'd built up, and made camp there without any permission. He didn't mean to mess with anything but there was a hole in my armour just by him being there.

This friendship, it was a strength. But it was also a weakness.

I resolved that it would be my only one. Rust would not settle into this armour, it would not fail me after getting me through some of the toughest challenges of my training and career.

He tried to get me to open up to others but I managed to keep them away. My reputation and general demeanour a good enough barrier for most. Though, it took more than that to scare our bosses. They treated me like any other employee, sent me on missions suited to my skills, never judging by my past. If I was capable then that was all that mattered.

I respected them. They respected me. That was as far as it went. I told myself.

Then he introduced me to his family, took me to his home. Involved me in their lives and forced me from passive bystander to active member. I smiled and I laughed and the children treated me like any other person. But this was okay, they were an extension of him and I'd already allowed him through.

When our team grew from two to six I paid it no mind. There were a bunch of egos, most of us wouldn't get along. We weren't made to like each other, only to work together. I could sign up to that, it was more of what I was used to in the Red Room.

Inexplicably, each member looked out for each other, took care and stayed loyal, at least to begin with. I didn't see it coming and by the time I realised, it was too late. The damage was done. We all understood our basic needs and basic sorrows without needing to share much. We respected privacy and never pushed.

We might have had disagreements and frustrated each other, but friendship is perfect because it isn't.

This time it was temporary. We took the good away ourselves, with our short-sightedness. Both sides were right and both sides were wrong and where we would usually find a way to stand with each other, to co-exist, continue the good fight, and bring those wrongs and rights to a compromise, there was too much standing in the way. No one wanted to listen, no one wanted to slow things down. Because the downside to friendship is that when things go wrong, the sense of betrayal is overwhelming, because despite opening yourself up to those people the first instinct is always self-preservation.

Even though we were on opposite sides we stayed close. Helped each other through our challenges. My contacts got him a deal and some of his contacts helped me to stay hidden.

I fought alongside others, stood shoulder to shoulder with them. They were important too. My armour was chafing and when I took a closer look it was because all of them were sitting with him, behind my wall and beside my heart. They might not have been as subtle about getting there but they'd followed where he once walked and found a safe way through.

Only when we lost did I truly realise how deep the invasion went. When pang after pang after pang stabbed at my heart, slashed strips out of it. Their names turned from armour to weapon.

Friends.

It's a funny word.

What people don't tell you is that friendship leads to family. And that was something I was not prepared for.

And the first member of my family, though alive, was so far away. Proving that this was temporary after all.

His hand was gone and he wouldn't take mine. I brushed aside his words and excused his actions but he spiralled further and further away. Forgetting our past together. Forgetting that when all you feel is cold the warmth that comes from another person is life-saving.

So many people made it through my armour, bolstered it into something more. Most of them were gone. Leaving behind a trail of thick, visceral, unforgiving emotion. The strongest desire to avenge or honour their memory. Matched only by the temptation to break down and fall into the anguish.

Others retreated. Untangling our lives from one another. An acceptance running through them all that what we had once now belonged in the past.

The latest of which I'd left behind surrounded by a pile of boxes and the detritus of our takeaway dinner. Knowing that he was facing his future, and I was facing the emptiness of an overly large building.

I have never felt as strong as I do in this moment.

I have also never felt as weak.

20 May 2020

Hi Tom,

I'm still not used to the emptiness.

Yeah, I know, I've spent days by myself. I've walked through these corridors before as the sole occupant. But it still felt lived in, you know?

Now, well now it just feels like I'm a squatter in an abandoned building; except for the heating, running water, electricity, and the disembodied voice.

I forget, sometimes, you know. I ask Friday where Steve is. I always get my answer in that small moment of hesitation before she speaks.

And I answer it myself. He's in Brooklyn, sorting out his apartment, embarking on his new life. And I'm here, at the compound, obsessing over old life.

Am I making the right choice?

When Thor left there still Bruce and Steve hanging around. And when Bruce went there was Steve.

Now Steve's gone there's only me. Not sure if you've figured it out by now Tom, but I'm not exactly the best company to keep these days.

I focused on work, though it was the toughest it had ever been. Doubt crawled into every decision and twisted itself into a nice, neat pulsating headache that destroyed all concentration when it came to my research. It mocked me in a voice that was a much younger and darker version of mine. A voice I attributed to Natalia.

Natalia the hopeless.

I don't like that voice.

So I take walks around the compound and fill myself with thoughts and feelings that had only to do with what was in front of me. At some point I started talking aloud.

And Friday spoke back.

"I still remember that first training session with the new Avengers," I said to the silence. Images of Wanda, Sam, Rhodey and Vision looking up at Steve and I, waiting for their instructions. I stood in the same place as I did way back then, eyes closed as I preferred to look at the past instead of facing the present.

"Me too, Director," Friday said, "it was an historical day for the team."

'Historical' was one word for it. Fateful, another. But the one thing I was on that day, and in that moment, was hopeful. We'd just faced something horrendous, one of our number was missing, and we weren't able to save everyone close to the action in Sokovia. But we had saved the world. We had a view of the future and there was no doubt it included the group of newbies who stood before us. A group with an amazing skill set that, if trained well, could achieve anything.

On that day I didn't think of the past. I looked ahead. We all did and we decided to face whatever was there together.

"I wish it had turned out differently."

"We all do, Director."

It felt odd, at first. Years had gone by where talking to or being addressed by an AI was commonplace, but there was something different about one being the only thing to talk to. That faded fast and I soon found myself voicing a lot of what I wanted to say. Friday knew when I wanted a reply and when I didn't. She knew when to speak even if I hadn't, and when I would listen

The first weekend since Steve's move came by and he kept his promise. He visited and it was so good to see someone and hear another voice. I even chucked work in early. He looked happier than I'd seen him in a long time and I knew this was the right decision. He'd been so troubled for so long and now he might have found a way to get past it. Though, he gave me a look that said he wasn't getting the same sort of feels from me. It was a flicker and it only happened in the rare silences between us when he took a good long look at me. So I summoned that cracked Black Widow mask and pulled myself together. His doubt seeped away after that. But it took more energy than I realised.

So, though I was glad to see him the next day, I knew the effort it was going to take to get through it.

By the time I was left to my own devices my work had piled up and my whole self was utterly drained. I woke up and didn't bother to drag myself out of bed. My pillow was sodden. I wondered if I'd drooled in my sleep. Then I realised the dampness came from the tears the slid down my cheeks.

"Shall I contact the boss, Director?" Friday said.

"No, I want to be left alone."

And so I was.

And am.

All alone. A whole compound to myself. Surrounded by silence and emptiness and nothing at all.

22 May 2020

I woke up today thinking there was a lot that could go wrong.

I went to bed knowing that while it did, it could have been a hell of a lot worse.

Why?

Well, because sod's law never misses an opportunity to be a sod. Rhodey was tied up in a long-planned meeting in Washington. One of those all day ones where there's either something seriously wrong or there's a bunch of people with a narcissistic addiction to their own voice. The topic of conversation was of course our favourite (my usual dose of heavy sarcasm fully intended), our performance regarding a certain elusive vigilante archer-turned-swordsman.

As our representative Rhodey always drew the short straw and his attendance was mandatory; mine was optional. Given the complexities of the topic we both decided it was a good idea for me to steer clear.

And clear I steered. Not that I had much choice in the end. Steve was on a stakeout mission, his last as a fulltime team member. It also happened to require complete radio silence unless there was something that absolutely needed his specific skill set.

So, when Friday said the Avengers were needed for an ongoing situation I chose not to bring him in, which meant my not quite new, but never before used, Black Widow suit Tony had gifted me finally got its debut.

My feet were up on my desk, I leaned back in my chair, and massaged my eyes against the latest onslaught of emails pouring in from all sides. Every time I took a deep breath my nose was assaulted by a refreshing swirl of eucalyptus, courtesy of an oil burner I may or may not have liberated, pre-Snap, from Wanda's things. You know, as payment for the jacket.

When Friday's report came in I wasted no time.

Good thing too, I was only a block away when it escalated. Armed robbers botched their job. So when Plan A didn't work they jumped straight to Plan H in their attempted escape.

Hostages.

There was a buzz of activity on the streets. Police had blocked off a subway and according to Friday's reports stopped all incoming traffic, under and over ground. They waited in position for a specialised unit to arrive, unaware that I was already descending into the murk below, more specialised than any unit they could ask for. Unless it was the rest of the Avengers, of course.

I leapt over the unmanned turnstiles.

"Friday, better let the authorities know the Avengers are here. Tell the lead officer to keep it quiet though, don't want to give the bad guys the heads up."

"Errrr, Avengers, Director?"

"Last I checked I still counted."

"Sure thing. That's all done, Director. And I've blocked your incoming calls and messages too."

I won't go into too much detail about how I navigated my way through to the power, taking down a couple of the robbers on the way. I also won't say too much about the state of the subway station and its behind the scenes. Not everything about the job is exciting.

Let's just say, I'm so good at my job that within ten minutes of entering the subway I was racing towards the hostages and former bank robbers before the backup power kicked in.

Just before the emergency lights came up I slipped into a space between two hostages behind a pillar. The cold tile at my back. All the guys with guns were huddled together at the top end of the platform, hushed whispers diluted by distance. While they tried to figure out what was going on I clasped my hands, locked my feet together, and hung my head as I caught my breath. A casual observer might think I was sobbing.

When the emergency lights did come on, low and unobtrusive, the whispers became mutters and footsteps indicated the impromptu meet-up was over.

"B-Black Widow?" A guy sat next to me asked. I felt him tremble on the spot.

I held a finger to my lips and he nodded. I liked it when they were sensible. I rolled my eyes in the direction of the earlier huddle.

"Six," he whispered and I nodded a thanks.

Six. Not a bad number. I had to be quiet about it though. Draw any attention and the hostages would be whittled down.

The beauty of where I was hidden was the blind spot that came with it. If I could lure one of the balaclavad morons in front of me, none of his friends would notice me take him down. As long as it was done swiftly and with little noise.

I waited. Listened as a single set of footsteps came closer and something predatory awoke. It was unique to these moments. You know, the ones where against all odds your plans unfold exactly as imagined. This time I watched as the unsuspecting gunman stepped into the danger zone, watched as my prey entered my trap. Senses sharpened.

The stench of sweat as he stepped in front of me.

The ease with which my eyes spotted his weaknesses.

The huff of air as he tried to call for help before he felt a hand clamp down on his mouth and an arm crushed against his throat.

The heat of his body as survival instincts tried to kick in but did him no good.

The taste of his fear on my tongue as he succumbed to unconsciousness.

I dragged him to my vacated spot and he slumped into place. It was quick work, tying his wrists and ankles together. Then I gagged him and turned his radio down, the crackling and sputtering wouldn't do me any favours.

The hostages looked at me. I considered telling them this was our little secret, but they looked like they had enough common sense to figure that out for themselves. Instead, I tried not to look at them. I knew what they wanted. Freedom. It's an intoxicating thing, and you don't know just how intoxicating until you don't have it any more. They would get it again, that's what I was there for. I just wanted to make sure they would all get it, not some at the expense of others.

Though the lighting was dim, it was still lighting. There was not as much cover as before, yet what darkness there was remained my friend and gave me paths in which to manoeuvre. A few pairs of eyes tried to follow me as I became one with the shadow. I felt them urge me on, or perhaps that was just the adrenaline of being in the field once again.

I pulled the same trick at the next pillar. Set trap, wait, attack. It worked a dream and that was another one down. If I had my way I would have done it again and again until the coast was clear. But the problem with bad guys? For some reason they never liked giving me my way.

That's alright, though. I do like to improvise. That's how my bracelet of Widow wonders earns its keep.

I set my bracelet to tranq and took the shot.

It took effect almost immediately, that was a big plus. The big minus, though, was that what followed was an almighty crash.

The guy didn't even have time to slap a hand against the sting, as they do in movies, before he collapsed. His gun clattered across the floor, and if his comrades hadn't noticed something was wrong before, they did then.

"Who's there?" One of them yelled as they ran up to aid their fallen friend.

"Only cowards hide in the shadows," the tallest one of the three added. The third stayed silent as he squinted into the darkness. He had his gun raised, finger itching to pull the trigger. I fired my grappling hook to sneak it from his grasp and, with not even a second in between, sent out another tranquiliser. Of course, that gave my position away.

"Spiders hide in shadows," I said as I stepped into the low light, "cowards hide behind other people."

"Shit, the Avengers," Shorty said.

I didn't correct him. If he wanted to think I might have a Hulk tucked away somewhere I wasn't going to dissuade him of that notion.

"I only see her. She ain't got no powers, and there's two of us. She's easy to take," Lanky said.

"You guys really have no idea, do you? I'm the deadliest one."

Of course, they didn't listen. They never do.

They ran at me.

So I ran at them.

They raised their guns.

So I leapt at Lanky, who was in front, grabbed one shoulder and the opposite arm to swing behind him, making sure to land a heavy, two-footed kick on Shorty's chest on my way round. He flew backwards and Lanky screamed in pain as his arm was twisted to almost breaking point behind his back.

The noise did my head in. So when he fell to his knees I twisted my bracelet round to my favourite setting and shot him full of 40,000 volts.

Then I ducked.

Shorty had regained his feet after his tumble to the floor. The vibrations of his attempted attack ruffled through my hair. He looked winded, and the way he held himself suggested there was more than a little pain lingering.

And I couldn't help myself.

Roundhouse kick it was.

Even I winced.

He grunted and stumbled back. Then decided it would be a good idea to try again. So I toyed with him. What? You can't blame me. It's been a long time since I had a chance to play.

I dropped my guard. He stepped towards me; fists raised though his heart was hardly in it. He swung. I stepped back. He swung again. And I stepped back again. My hands were behind my back and I couldn't help the smirk that crept onto my face as he persisted.

He seemed to realise his error. The panic in his eyes was that of a hapless fly caught in a web.

Still, he took another swing.

And didn't seem the least bit surprised when my hand caught his fist.

I punched him in the face, satisfied by the cracking of his nose and the glorious gush of red down his chin that followed, then hooked a foot around his ankle so he ended up on the floor just like the rest of his group.

He didn't go down without a fight, though. In his struggle to escape he struck me in the side of the head and static screeched into my ear.

The comms link was busted.

I administered another 40,000 volts and he was soon slumbering in the land of the defeated.

Six for six. Well done me.

"Hey!"

Fuck it.

Another masked man had stumbled onto the platform. I'm going to go out on a limb and say the only reason he wasn't already shooting up the place was the surprise of finding a lone woman surrounded by the prone forms of his buddies.

It was tempting to duck behind the nearest pillar but there was no way this guy wouldn't use the hostages against me. So I did what proved so effective against the last two and ran at him. He saw me coming but didn't know what to do. I saw the indecision as he thought about diving away before remembering his gun. It was that split second which sealed his fate all the quicker.

I dropped down as soon as I was in range. Skidded along on my knees. Swiped his feet out from under him and did my best to ignore the chattering static in my ear. As with the others he landed hard on the floor. My guess was he, at the very least, sprained a wrist.

I managed to get a hold of his gun and, before I was even fully back on my feet, had it pointed at him. His eyes were wide when he rolled onto his back and held up his hands, wincing when he moved the injured one.

"How many more of you are there?" I asked.

"Please don't hurt me," he begged.

"Answer my question and I may reconsider my current plans of tearing out your nails, breaking your fingers, then pulling out your teeth for good measure," I growled.

"Those guys," he jerked his head to the top of the platform, "and two other lookouts out there."

I kicked him in the side of the head and he fell as unconscious as the rest of the scum. There was some crackling and popping then a jagged, searing screech in my ear.

"Argh, Friday, whatever you're trying to say, I can't hear you." It went off again and I fished the comm link from my ear and tucked it into one of my many pockets. "I thought you were meant to be an artificial intelligence not an artificial dumbass."

My watch buzzed with a message.

I can still hear you, Director.

I smirked. "Good, then let the police know it's all clear down here."

And so ended my adventure.

The journey home was peaceful. I slipped, unnoticed, back onto the Quinjet, and listened as the remaining adrenaline coursed its way through my veins. When the compound came into view I spotted Steve's motorcycle lounging around out front and I just knew the man himself would be idling at my desk with the news running in the background.

"Enjoy yourself out there?" He asked when I walked into the room, still suited up.

"Was it always that much fun? Or has it just been a while?"

"You find it fun?" His arms were crossed and he dared to do his best impression of me from my chair, by quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh, don't tell me you don't," I said and settled into one of the chairs opposite him, "you don't lie, remember."

He smiled, then stood, gesturing to the chair he'd stolen. "I believe this is yours."

"As gentlemanly as that might seem, it kind of loses all meaning when I've already sat down. Anyway, I need to go shower. Getting in and out unnoticed was a task and a half. This job isn't all about the glamour, gore and violence you know."

"But when it is?"

"It's awesome." I flashed him a grin. He laughed and I stood up to go get that shower I was talking about.

"Nat."

I looked at him over my shoulder.

"You alright?"

"Never better," I said and it was almost true. The adrenaline was still humming, my brain was a good sort of tired after racing ahead with all sorts of ideas and strategies in a way it hadn't for so long, and my body yawned with the exertion of it all.

"You could have called me, you know."

"No I couldn't, Steve. We need to learn to function without you."

He went to say something and stopped, took a breath and changed his mind. He might not have voiced it but I saw the thought flitter through his eyes. He wanted to argue it, but something told him it wouldn't be worth it. "Dinner tonight? Or do you have plans?"

"I do now," I said.

His laugh followed me into the lift. When I stepped out, it was replaced by a ringing.

"Hey Tony."

"You alright Nat?" He said over the line, I heard Pepper in the background, no doubt listening to the phone on speaker.

"A little perturbed that you knew I was in a position where I potentially couldn't be, but otherwise can't complain."

He laughed. Apparently I was turning into a comedienne.

"Well, you see, I was in my lab tinkering about with some stuff, imagine my surprise when I look up and I'm getting actual readings from your suit. Thought it might have malfunctioned or something."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. I checked with Friday though, and she said you were diffusing an ongoing hostage situation, aaaaalll on your lonesome."

"Checks out," I said as I walked into my quarters.

"But you're good?"

"Yes, Tony. I'm good. Gotta say, nice job with the suit. More than stands up to the job. Sorry it took me so long to test it out."

"Just doing my part to keep my favourite people alive," he paused when he realised what he said and recovered in a Tony sort of way, "anyway, guess who else is here. She wants to say hi."

There was a small amount of commotion on the other end as somebody picked up the phone. I heard Pepper's encouraging voice mutter something to a someone I assumed was Morgan.

"Go on Morgana," Tony said, "say hi to auntie Nat. Say hi."

"Hi." It was small and unsure and a little breathless as if she was already tired of pandering to their demands. But I smiled because why wouldn't I? This amazing, tiny human being was ready to communicate.

"Hi Morgan," I said.

Her first word may not have been in Russian, but it was still sweet.