A/N: Hello Again, Avenger Fans!
So...Apparently, the creative ball is still rolling for this little Post-Infinity War probably-wrong-speculation-of-mine story. So, I'm putting these other one shots into a series called The Ranch House. (You'll see why in a bit.)
These'll just be little snippets of Steve and Natalia's lives after Run Away (with you) and It Don't Hurt (Like it used to). I recommend reading those first, seeing as this'll be sequels to them!
Anyway, on to this particular one shot!
Note: This was inspired by Carrie Underwood's "What I never Knew I always wanted". However, it doesn't follow the song, at all. It's a great song! Feel free to listen to it while reading!
Also note: In doing some research on Steve, I found that in the Main universe of Marvel Comics (Earth-616) Steve is Roman Catholic and was raised that way by his mother in the 1920's. While this hasn't been confirmed in the MCU, it has been stated that he is Christian (though not what denomination). So, I took the liberty of adding this aspect to his character. It adds a dimension to his character that I would like to explore a bit.
Warning(ish): Nat and Steve have a very personal conversation about a particular view that people may not share in this chapter. Nothing explicit or anything, just personal.
Never Knew I Always Wanted
January (Four months after the end of the War of the Infinity Gems)
Steve Rogers' eyes snapped open abruptly, his crystal blue eyes staring into the darkness that surrounded him, adjusting to the lack of light after a few blinks. He searched around the small room, looking for what it was that had disturbed his rest, his left hand going towards where he would have kept his shield…back when he was an Avenger.
His eyes caught two sources of light, one being the red glow from his alarm clock which flashed 03:04, and the second being a small night light that he had insisted on installing outside his room.
Taking a steadying breath, his eyes caught sight of the cause of the sound that had awoken him.
A figure standing in his door way. A very familiar, thin, but deceptively built, figure, with hair that framed her shadowed face and brushed her shoulders.
He relaxed his shoulders as he slowly turned to face the figure. "Nat?" He asked, his voice soft with sleep.
Natalia didn't respond, but she did enter his room, slowly, as if afraid that she would set off some kind of trap.
And Steve couldn't blame her for that.
The two retired Avengers had lived hard lives out in the world. Fighting extraterrestrials, would-be-king gods, a mad titan, chasing HYDRA, defending citizens, and so much more. Being a little cautious (read: paranoid) came with the territory.
Unfortunately.
She sat down carefully on the edge of his bed. He didn't reach for her, not wishing to scare her. The Super Soldier had grown (sadly) used to these little visits in the middle of the night.
(He would say sadly in that it happened more often than they cared to admit.)
He waited for her to speak.
It didn't take long. "Can I stay?" Her voice was so soft and broken that it reminded Steve of an injured kitten he had found as a child mewing behind a trash can in an alley in Brooklyn.
And how could he deny either of them?
He shifted slightly, lifting the covers, knowing that she would crawl under them even if he didn't lift them.
Once she was settled under the duvet, he adjusted his position in the full size bed so that they were facing each other with several inches separating the two of them. He rested a hand gently between them, a silent sign that he was there, that she was safe, and that, if she wanted to talk, he would listen.
Natalia was silent for a long while, and Steve watched her face in the faint light with kind eyes. If she decided to just go to sleep, he would too.
But tonight didn't appear to be one of those nights.
A shaking and cold hand rested atop his and his fingers curled around hers, gingerly, as she spoke.
"I was in the Red Room," Her voice soft yet thick with emotion. "I had made it to those final tests…I…I didn't want to pass, Steve. I-I fought so h-h-hard." Her voice broke and he could hear the sobs coming.
He moved slowly closer to her, his arm moving from her hand to her shoulder and finally her waist before drawing her close to him. She offered no resistance to his touch and leaned into his chest, her hands coming up to grip the front of his t-shirt. One of his hands rubbed soothing circles on her back, while the other slipped into her curly locks.
"I didn't want to graduate," She cried out, her fingers digging fiercely into the cotton of his shirt, as if to prevent herself from losing him like she had lost that piece of herself all those years ago. "I-I di-didn't-" Her voice shattered and the sobs that she had been holding back fell harshly from her lips.
Back when she had been the Black Widow, Steve had only seen her shed tears on a handful of occasions, and all of those where when the mission called for it. But ever since they had left that life behind and settled on this little ranch not far from the Barton's farm, these emotional moments had come frequently and with a vengeance.
And Steve would be lying if he said he didn't understand why.
Natalia, under the guise of Natasha, had held it in for so long, been the Widow for decades, and all the monsters of her past had never been fully dealt with. She had never mourned the loss of her parents, her friends, her childhood, and especially her womanhood.
He wasn't sure how long she cried for, but his grip on her never lessened, grounding her in reality and comfort as she wept. Eventually, the tears turned into hiccups and then to soft breaths on his now wet shirt. Her fingers slowly loosened as she fell into a slumber. He wasn't sure if it was peaceful or restful, but at least she was getting some rest.
Steve gently kissed her forehead and let his own tears fall, weeping silently for the things she never knew she had wanted until they had been taken from her.
March
"Don't give me that look, Steve." Natalia said with a genuinely teasing smile on her face as they cleaned off the table after a delicious breakfast. "I think it's a fairly reasonable proposition since we usually find our way into each other's beds every night."
"You know I can't agree with that, Nat." He said softly, turning on the water to wash the dishes. "It's the reason why I made sure this house had three bedrooms before we moved in. Seeking out solace from each other is one thing, residing permanently in the same room…that's another."
Natalia gnashed her teeth against her lower lip, holding back a retort. They had had this conversation several times in the six months since they moved in, and it always ended at this point. And, to be fair, Steve did have a reasonable argument.
Sharing a bedroom, and even a bed, with a woman was something incredibly uncomfortable for Steve. She knew he had been raised in an Irish Catholic household and that, even though time had changed the morality of the world, his had not. So firm was his moral compass that he couldn't be swayed.
In one argument about this very topic, she had pushed too far and he had cracked, revealing a deeper meaning as to why he didn't want to share a bed with her.
"I can't do that because the one woman I want to sleep permanently beside would be the one I say 'I do' to, for better or worse, richer or poorer, till death do us part. And even then, I'd sleep beside her six feet under because that's how it was always intended to be."
Needless to say, that had stung her right to the core. And not entirely in a bad way.
It opened her eyes more to the man that was Steve Rogers.
It explained (at least a bit of) why he hadn't really been interested in the dozens of girls she had pushed him towards during their time as partners, or his devotion to Margaret Carter when she was alive, or how awkward he had been with her niece, Sharon.
He was looking for someone who would stay with him until his dying breath.
And it showed just how different their compasses were.
To her, a bed was just a bed. A place to rest your head. It didn't matter who else resided in it or what was done in it.
But to Steve it was something intimate and personal. A place of comfort and life bringing that was so radically different. It was where fears were faced, where dreams were made, and where spouses gave themselves to each other.
It explained why, when she woke up in the morning after making her way into his bed at night, she would find him sleeping on the couch in the living room just beyond his room.
"Alright," She conceded, finally, knowing that she wasn't going to win this, unless…
Not going there. She thought as she pulled on her jacket.
He smiled, gently, as he dried off his hands and walked towards her. He placed a kiss on the crown of her head. "Thank you for understanding, Natalia. It means a lot to me."
In years past, she would have stopped the blush that crawled up her cheeks as Steve said her name. But this was a new start, a new Natalia, and she let herself blush.
Granted, she would blame it on the chilly March weather if he asked.
"You're welcome," she said, passing him his favorite flannel jacket. (That was one thing he really loved about living out here, he got to wear his "old man" clothes more often.) "Oh, by the way, Clint wanted me to ask you to come over because he needs your help chopping wood today."
The former soldier rolled his eyes as he slipped the jacket onto his back. "I bet just to see that he doesn't have to complete the chore himself."
Natalia laughed as they stepped out on the piece land that was the Ranch they never knew they always wanted.
A/N: And that's a wrap for this one!
Please let me know what you thought. Did you love it/hate it?
As soon as the next part is ready, I'll put it up.
Thanks again!
~Rachel