By the time Nat and Laura reached the cabin, the flight attendants had already opened the exits and the slides were inflating. Natasha checked on the man whose wife had tried to kill herself, but the other passengers were already helping him to get her out. The woman who'd been reading to the three children was putting scarves and hats on them.
"No need," Natasha assured her, "it's eighty degrees out."
At the bottom of the stairs, Laura hurried off to see about her own children, while Natasha moved further back to make sure the rest of the passengers were getting out all right. She was almost at the second galley area when she felt something suddenly shift under her feet, and heard startled cries. People who'd been stopping to grab backpacks and laptops suddenly started hurrying forward.
"What happened?" Nat asked, making her way aft even as panicked passengers pushed past her towards the front of the plane.
"Something broke!" a stewardess replied.
The harpoon, Natasha realized – she'd forgotten all about it. It must have torn free when they hit the water, leaving a hole in the hull of the plane. Sure enough, when she reached the floor hatch she had come up by, seawater was welling up through it, spreading across the carpet. She estimated no more than ten minutes before it filled the fuselage and sank the plane – less if the water pressure caved in the hull. Luckily, there hadn't been many people in the very back of the plane. As long as everyone had the sense to head for the front exits, they ought to be able to get out.
But as she waded into the water, Nat realized that the harpoon hole wasn't the only thing that had broken in the back of the plane. Someone who hadn't realized the back was sinking had tried to open one of the emergency doors. It hadn't opened because it was half underwater, but the slide attached to it had inflated inside the passenger cabin, crushing two rows of seats – and pinning two passengers to the back wall. They were stuck there now, unable to move the inflated rubber and calling for help as the water inched up.
It was the Hu Xian and one of the men who'd tried to grab Natasha – the one in the Ghostbusters shirt.
Nat's Red Room training told her that the easiest thing to do would be to leave them there. A couple of civilian casualties were acceptable side effects of a mission to a black widow. If they were people who'd gotten in her way earlier, so much the better – it meant they'd never have a chance to do it again. Nobody would know, the treacherous voice in the back of her head whispered. Everybody would assume that she either hadn't noticed them, or hadn't been able to help them. Yelena or Kamila would have turned away without a second thought.
But she wasn't Yelena Belova or Kamila Ibrayev. She was Natasha Romanov. She wasn't a black widow. She was the Black Widow.
There was a third person present, in the other aisle – the other Australian, the one in the Hunger Games shirt. He was pulling on the slide with all his might, but couldn't shift it. When he noticed Nat, he looked up and called out desperately.
"Help!" he said. "My brother!"
"I'm on it!" Nat climbed over the slide, which was starting to float in the water, and grabbed the nearest hand – it belonged to the Hu Xian. Nat pulled, and the woman struggled, but the slide was pinned between the seats and the back wall, and it wouldn't budge. Worse, it was pushing the trapped people down as the water rose, and would eventually drown them. Natasha moved over and tried to help the Australian, but he didn't even have the advantage of having an arm free. Neither could be moved. The smell of salt water was becoming overwhelming.
She thought fast. Evacuation slides were made of layers of nylon and rubber, designed to be watertight and almost impossible to puncture. A bullet would do it, but Natasha didn't have a bullet. She might, however, have something else.
"Don't leave!" the Australian begged, as Nat backed away.
"I'm coming back," she promised.
"Liar! You're leaving us to drown!" spat the Hu Xian.
"My name is Natasha," said Nat. "What's yours?"
"Chris," said the Australian.
"What's it matter?" the Hu Xian demanded.
"It humanizes you," said Natasha calmly. "I'm not going to leave you to die if I know your name."
"Nonsense!" said the Hu Xian. But a moment later, she said, "Lin Meiwei."
"Chris, Meiwei, I'll be right back," Natasha promised. She hurried back up the aisle, now at a significant slope. One deep breath, then she emptied her lungs thoroughly before taking another and slipping through the hatch into the rising water.
A few flickering lights in the cargo hold had not yet shorted out underwater, and by their light Nat swam between loose pieces of luggage towards the cargo door. It was still open, and although the metal next to it had cracked and torn, the harpoon was still embedded in it. Nat reached through and managed to grab the line that was still attached to the shaft, wrapping it around her arm. She braced her feet on one of the ribs of the plane, and pulled.
Metal groaned and tore, and water started coming in faster. Air hissed out of Nat's lungs between her teeth as the line bit into her injured arm, but she kept pulling and with a jerk, the harpoon came free. Water rushed in ever faster through the crack. The current helped to push Nat back up to the hatch, but her lungs were burning by the time she got there.
She climbed out, still clutching the harpoon, and grabbed the nearest seat. Her head was spinning as she gasped for air. The water was almost waist-deep now... she didn't have much time, but she couldn't do anything until she caught her breath.
"She's back!" the second Australian ran up. He didn't ask any questions, he just took the harpoon from her and splashed back down to the inflated slide. Natasha forced her stinging eyes open to watch. His brother and the Hu Xian were no longer even visible, but the Australian jammed the sharp end of the harpoon into the slide as hard as he could.
Nothing happened. Nat made herself get up and wade towards him. Maybe he just needed more force.
The man jabbed at the slide again – this time, there was a hiss of escaping air, and the smell of nylon. Nat reached his side and helped him to put another hole in the other side of the slide for good measure. As the pressure eased, Chris and Meiwei came to the surface, gasping and panting.
"Come on! We have to get out!" Nat dropped the harpoon and held out her hands.
The Hu Xian's leg had been pushed against a broken seat and was bleeding. She could barely move, so the other Australian picked her up to carry. Nat and Chris supported each other as they half-climbed, half-swam towards the nearest open exit. Water was coming up through the floor now in such volume that there was a noticeable fountain effect above the hatch – and then a second hatch, further forward, also burst open to let in even more. Natasha could taste the salt in the back of her throat.
They reached the bottom of the stairs to business class. Nat pushed Chris on ahead of her,and turned to look back down the sinking fuselage. The far end was full of water to the ceiling.
"Is anybody else down here?" she called out. "Anybody?"
There was no reply, but a half-dozen horrible possibilities occurred to her. An unaccompanied child unable to escape from their seat, forgotten by the panicked adults. Somebody who was hurt and couldn't walk, but whom nobody had stopped to help. A person who'd not yet woken from the oxygen deprivation, and was now beginning to drown.
She had to be sure. She had to go back. Natasha took another deep breath and began wading back into the water, even as all her training and all her instincts together told her to go now and save herself. She ignored it. That was not what a superhero would do.
She could not, however, ignore Chris. He grabbed her and pulled her back, pushing her up the stairs ahead of him. "Nope," he said. "We have to go."
"There might be somebody still in there!" she protested.
"You can't help them now," said the other Australian. "You could barely help us."
On a better day Natasha would have wrapped herself around Chris' neck and thrown both men to the bottom of the staircase in a single graceful motion before running back to do her damned job – but now she no longer had the strength. Going back for the harpoon had been the last gasp in her, and now her muscles had simply given up. There was nowhere to go but up the stairs, and even then, her legs were wobbling under her.
They reached the top. A flight attendant was waiting for them there. Meiwei dived through the door onto the floating slide, then the two Australians helped Natasha out before climbing out themselves. The flight attendant came last, and cut the slide loose from the plane so it could float away like a life raft.
Outside, the sunshine was bright and the wind was fresh. Nat could feel the floating slide rocking under her, with about an inch of water pooling where her body made a slight depression in it. It was over. The helicarrier would pick them up. She had saved Laura and the kids, exactly as she'd set out to do. It didn't seem quite real.
The plane dipped slightly to the left as it sank, raising one wing out of the water for a moment. Nat almost giggled to herself at the thought that it looked like it was waving goodbye. Then, without any fuss, it slipped under the gently heaving water.
Natasha may actually have passed out then, or at the very least fallen asleep, because the next thing she was aware of was lying on a stretcher on the helicarrier deck, with the sun beating down on her face. Dim human silhouettes were listening to her chest and inspecting her injured left arm, but there was another person present, too, just hovering above her. Nat blinked a few times, and then made out a familiar face.
"I told you we'd make it," she said to Laura.
Laura's anxious expression melted into a dazzling smile, and she squeezed Natasha's right hand. "Yes," she said, "yes, you did."
Still shaking, Nat sat up. Somebody handed her two Advil and a paper cup of water. Ibuprofen had never done much for her – the black widows were immune to most over-the-counter medications – but she took them anyway and drained the cup before putting it back in the hand that had offered it. She then discovered that it belonged to another person she knew.
"Thanks for rejigging the thingamabob," she said to Chiba.
He was about to say you're welcome, but then he frowned. "I... you mean the glide slope indicator?"
"Yeah, that," Nat smiled. "Never could have made that landing without you."
"It's nice to be useful," he replied, still a little unsure.
"Make up your mind, Romanov," said Fury, as he joined the group. "Is it the thing, the whatchamacallit, or the doohickey? I gotta put out a memo about the new name tomorrow." Chiba moved aside to let him through, and he squatted down next to the stretcher, opposite from Laura. "How do you feel, Natasha?"
"Like I've just been in a plane crash," she replied, deadpan. "Was anybody still in there?" She needed to know how many had died. Needed to keep track of just how much red was in her ledger.
Fury chuckled at her joke, then his face became serious. "Well, according to the manifests there were originally four hundred and one people on board. We got three hundred and ninety-four people off."
Nat tried to do the math, although it made her head hurt. "They killed the pilots and co-pilots, and four of the stewardesses were widows... with three hundred and eighty-five passengers that makes... no, that can't be right." She looked up at Fury. "There's an extra person. If everybody escaped except those eight there ought to be three hundred and ninety-three. Are you saying there was a stowaway on board?"
Laura grinned. "He's talking about you, silly!"
"Oh." Nat tried not to react, but she could feel her cheeks warming. Of course – minus the four widows and the flight crew, plus Natasha, the numbers worked out. Everybody had gotten off okay. "Right. Sorry, like I said, I..."
"You've had a long day," Fury nodded.
Once the medics were sure Nat wasn't going to expire at their feet, they started to lift the stretcher – but Nat wasn't going to stand for that. She used Fury's arm as support to pull herself to her feet, and let him help her towards the helicarrier's superstructure.
"What did you do with the Hu Xian?" she asked. "The woman who got off with me and the two Australians?"
"Not sure," said Fury, as they made their very slow way across the deck. "I'll check for you. Good job, by the way," he added.
"Thanks, Dad," she replied with just a hint of sarcasm. Natasha knew very well that she'd done a good job – she didn't need Fury to tell it to her. "Does that mean I'm not grounded?"
"Oh, no, you're still grounded," said Fury. "But I'll tell the boys they won't be needed today."
Nat looked sideways at him, with a sudden awful feeling. Had he really not trusted her to get this done? Had he brought a squad of agents... or even the Avengers? "Which boys are we talking about?"
"Daddy!" a voice shrieked.
Nat turned her head. It was Lila Barton who had shouted, and now Natasha saw both her and Cooper running to meet their father, who dropped to his knees on the helicarrier deck and held out his arms for them. Rather than wearing street clothes or any kind of SHIELD uniform, he was dressed in a dark blue coverall to match the accident investigation team who were dealing with the plane wreck, but any attempt at being undercover had apparently gone out the window when he'd seen his children. He gathered them up, pretending they'd almost knocked him over. Maybe they had – his ribs couldn't be quite healed yet.
"Ooof!" he said. "Let your old Dad breathe a little, would you?"
Laura joined them, and Clint hugged her, too, and kissed the top of her head. Watching them, Natasha had to smile – the black widows had been raised so that they had nothing to lose, but she'd always thought that the reason Clint Barton had been able to best her was because he had everything to lose. No matter what he was doing, in the back of his head there was always his home and his family. Those were more important than any mission, and they were the thing Natasha herself could never, ever have.
She looked back at Fury. "Any more?"
"Just one," said Fury. "Stark's busy as always, Thor's dealing with family, and we're trying to get Rogers to think about something other than saving the world – but Dr. Banner volunteered his services so I figured we might as well bring him along."
He pressed the button to the elevator and the doors opened – and sure enough, there was Bruce Banner, in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans. Nat paused in her steps a little on instinct. As always, Banner looked so harmless... but she'd seen for herself what was inside of him.
Banner's eyes went wide when he saw her. "You're soaked!" he exclaimed, and unzipped his sweatshirt – underneath it he was wearing a Mystery Science Theater 3000 shirt that was almost certainly Stark's. "Didn't anybody think to give you dry clothes?" Banner asked, draping the hoodie around her shoulders.
This time, Natasha really did laugh. It was such a gentlemanly gesture, one she'd been offered before but rarely by anybody who wasn't hoping for something in return, and the fact that it was coming from Bruce Banner of all people just made it funnier. "Thanks," she said, pulling it close around herself. It smelled like him – sweat and cheap detergent and just a slight hint of marijuana.
"Uh-oh," said Clint, slipping into the elevator to join them. "You're not getting that back, Banner," he said. "But welcome to the club."
"Club?" asked Banner.
"The club of people Natasha's stolen sweatshirts from," said Clint. "She's got a couple of mine and I know she has one of Stark's."
"One of mine, too, if I'm not mistaken," said Fury.
"So yeah, we're the club," Clint nodded. "I'd say we have jackets, but Natasha would steal them.
Nat put her arms into the sleeves of the hoodie. "Mine now," she agreed, and let her eyes close as the elevator took her down.
In sick bay the medics stitched up and bandaged her arm, and then she was wheeled into a private area behind a curtain where she could sleep. She didn't know how long she was out, but when she woke up, there was a tray of food by the bedside, with steam still rising from it. Her automatic reaction, the one drummed into her by years of training, would have been to leave it alone despite the loud, gurgling protestations of her stomach. Any food offered by strangers was likely to be drugged or poisoned. But Nat reminded herself that she wasn't among strangers here – Fury was her friend, and would not let anything happen to her. She pulled the tray closer, and dug into a warm chicken pot pie.
The curtain moved back a little. Nat would have expected Fury or Clint, but instead it was Banner who stepped inside. "You're awake," he said. "You look like you've been through hell."
"Why, thank you," said Nat, mouth full. "You're a real charmer, do you know that?" Why was he here, she wondered. What did he want?
Banner started to sit down beside the bed, then stood up again, wary of her suspicious expression. "Sorry. If you don't want me here..."
"No, it's fine," she said, waving her hand, fork and all, to reassure him. After all she'd been through already, the Hulk seemed like a relatively minor concern. "I don't mind having some company. Where's Clint?"
"With a friend," Banner replied at once. The vagueness in his voice was very deliberate.
"Oh?" asked Nat. Banner didn't seem like somebody Clint would trust with a secret like the existence of Laura and the kids – but then, neither did Natasha herself, from an objective perspective.
"Fury made it very clear to me that I never saw the friend in question," Banner said. "So if I'm ever officially told I'll have to act surprised. It won't be hard. It was kind of a shock, actually, because I thought you two were..." he shrugged.
"No, we're good friends. That's all," said Nat. She was still a little bit in love with Clint and probably always would be – but that was her problem, not his. "He's gonna be glad to get home. What about you?" she asked. It hadn't escaped her notice that he'd volunteered for a potential rescue mission that would take him to the other side of the world, giving him the option to vanish all over again. Fury would definitely have noticed, too.
"I'm not sure," Banner replied, and finally pulled the chair back up to sit down again. "Tony offered some thoughts on my gamma work so maybe I'll head back and see if that goes anywhere... but that would be in New York, and I wasn't such a big fan of New York even before the aliens."
Nat nodded. Banner was good at bottling things up, but she could read him – he really wanted to believe that things could get better for him, but he felt desperately helpless and was terrified of hurting people, of becoming the monster his enemies thought he was. Bruce Banner was a natural optimist who'd been disappointed so many times it had almost killed the last spark of hope in him... but not quite.
"What about you?" he asked. "You, uh, got any plans?"
"I'm gonna take a vacation," Nat replied. Fury would probably insist on it. "After babysitting Stark, and then New York, and now this, I need one."
"Do you?" asked Banner. "Or is it the fact that we were all on TV and you need to lie low for a while?"
Nat hadn't expected him to be so forthright. She studied his face for a moment, and realized he was studying hers in return... of course, he knew how hiding worked, didn't he? He was a master at it, able to cross borders or obtain fake ID without leaving a ripple, and when he asked her that question, he was talking about himself. His face, too, had been all over the news, and the people he'd been hiding from now knew exactly who and where he was. The trap laid for Natasha had shown him what could happen to himself.
Now she understood – he'd come to the Philippines with Fury to secure himself a chance of escape, and he'd come to sick bay to talk to Natasha because he wanted to talk to somebody who would understand his particular problem. He wanted advice.
"Some of that, too," she said quietly. "Nobody wants to hire a spy when everybody knows what she looks like... I probably wont' be doing too much until things quiet down a little." If this escapade made it to the media, that would take even longer. "I'm sure if you want to stay with Stark, he'll protect you."
"He'll try," said Banner. "Not sure Miss Potts would want me around, though."
"Oh, Pepper will be fine," Natasha assured him. "She's not afraid of anything, at least not once she'd gotten to know you."
"I'm not the easiest guy to get to know," Banner pointed out.
"She likes a challenge," said Nat, and smiled. "So do I."
The Hulk was frightening, Natasha thought – but Bruce Banner was not. If she could keep a handle on the monster inside her, he could surely do the same.
The helicarrier put in at Laoag, and offloaded the passengers of Flight 113. Those who needed it were taken to the local hospital. Others were found hotels, or put on boats, trains, or other airplanes to get them back on their way. The Barton family were put up in the beautiful glass-fronted Rivermount Resort, where Natasha went to join them for a late supper. Dressed in street clothes, with her arm in a sling, she was already looking and feeling better. The black widows were quick healers. They'd been made to be.
Fury accompanied her to the hotel lobby. "Did you find the Hu Xian?" Natasha asked him again. "Where is she?"
"Relax," said Fury. "She's in the brig – she's back to insisting that she doesn't speak English."
Natasha relaxed a little. The widows were all dead or had gotten away. She wanted somebody arrested as a result of this debacle. "What are you going to do with her?"
"We're not sure," said Fury. "If we can talk to her I might try to convince her she's got a second chance at SHIELD. It's worked before."
"Maybe I'll have a go at her," Nat said. "I did save her life, after all. Let me know how it goes." She squeezed Fury's arm and kissed his cheek, and then went to get the elevator up. They'd put the Bartons in a nice suite on the top floor. Nat knocked on the door, and it was Lila who opened it and wrapped her arms around Natasha's waist in a hug.
"Did you ride the elephant, Auntie Nat?" she asked.
"I'm sorry, I didn't have time," said Nat, kneeling to hug her back. "I was very busy in India and I couldn't stay there very long. Next time I go someplace with elephants, I'll definitely ride one for you, okay?"
"Okay," said Lila. She took Nat's hand to lead her to the dinner table. "We got you something from Australia!" she added.
"Yeah!" Cooper slid down from his chair and grabbed his backpack off the sofa.
"Weren't you supposed to leave all your stuff on the plane?" asked Natasha. Other people had been grabbing their things as they disembarked, but the safety briefings always told people to leave their luggage, and she couldn't imagine Laura letting them stop.
"It was right there," said Cooper. "And we couldn't leave your present." He unzipped the bag and pulled out a little box, wrapped in paper with a pattern of tropical birds. Natasha smiled as she accepted it and pulled the ribbon off. Inside was a slim cardboard box, and when she opened it she found, resting on a bed of cotton, a silver necklace with an arrow pendant.
"We thought you'd like it," said Lila, "because Dad uses arrows."
"I do like it." Natasha took it out and put it on, then gave each child a hug. "Thank you very much!"
"Thank you, Natasha," said Clint.
She looked up at him and smiled. "I promised Laura she'd see you again. Couldn't break that promise."
"No, I mean it." Now it was Clint's turn to hug her. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I... I don't know how I'm ever gonna thank you."
"It was nothing," she said, and held the embrace a moment longer before letting go. Clint didn't need to thank her, because she'd only just begun thanking him – but he wouldn't believe that if she told it to him. "Out of curiosity... what did the text from Laura say? The one she sent before we landed?" Nat had assumed it was a goodbye, but she was curious.
Clint smiled. "It said, landing now. Natasha's got us."
Natasha blinked and looked at Laura, who nodded softly. Natasha's smile broadened into a grin, and she blinked quickly to get the tears out of her eyes. For all her wide-eyed worry, Laura had never doubted her for a moment.
