Normal People Problems

(Agent Coulson, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Rated T)

"Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant."

- Robert Louis Stevenson

Some US City in Some US State, during the year 2008

"No," said Lily, "you can't do this."

"Sure can, sugarmuffin. My place, my rules."

Lily bit back a swear word and strode over to her dresser, wherein she rummaged through the junk that filled the top drawer until she found a ripped envelope. She unfolded the paper inside, crossed back to where she had been standing and waved it in the man's face.

"See this?" she demanded, "this is our contract. And in our contract, which we both signed, it says that I am not required to pay my rent until the last Sunday of the month, so I think you'll find that-"

She yelped as her landlord snatched it away from her and tore the paper in half. "I changed my mind," he said with a leer, "I want it now, and I don't know what contract you're talking about."

She clenched her fists. "But I haven't been paid!" she protested, and the landlord shrugged. "How am I supposed to pay you with money I don't even have, huh?"

"Not my problem, sweetheart."

"But it's you who wants the – you know what?" Lily asked, her voice getting increasingly shrill, "screw it. I'll go see a loan shark, who I'll probably have to pay an arm and a leg in due time, by which I mean literally my arm and my leg, but at least you've got enough money to fuel your nasty booze habit, right?"

The landlord opened his mouth to sneer something back at her, but paused as the doorbell rang. They both glared at each other for two seconds before Lily stormed up to it and yanked open the front door of her crappy apartment. Timing! she thought furiously, why does everything in my life have the worst possible timing?!

"What?!" she practically yelled at the man in the suit who was standing there.

"My name's Agent Coulson," he said with a thin-lipped smile, "I'm with-"

Nope. Lily slammed the door in his face and turned back to her landlord. "Where were we?" she asked him, and the doorbell rang again.

"Aren't you going to get that?" he asked, looking somewhat confused. That being said, Lily suspected it wouldn't take much to confuse him.

"Nope. Come on, let's argue about rent some more." Normal people problems, she thought desperately, please, let me get back to normal people problems…

The landlord's phone rang, and he fished it out of his pocket. "Hello?" he asked, "who is thi-" his face blanched, and Lily groaned inwardly as he stammered into the receiver. "Right – I – yes, I'm on my way." He hung up. "I have to go," he said, and fled out of the door without so much as a backwards glance.

Damn.

"Right," she said weakly to the empty room, "you've got rid of him, you might as well come in. Door's open."

Coulson pushed open the door and assumed a place by her messy kitchen side, hands clasped behind his back and still with that annoying little smile. "Lilith," he said, "we need you."

"My name's Lily. And no," she said, "you don't. Please go away."

"Director Fury has started an Initiative," Coulson explained, "for a group of exceptional people-"

"I'm not exceptional, agent," she said, "I'm just a normal person."

"We both know that's not true."

"Well, I want it to be true," she snapped, "and as far as I'm concerned, it is. So please, leave me the hell alone, I'm not – I'm not even doing any harm! Look at me, agent." She held out her arms. "Look at how ordinary this is. I have a nine-to-five job in a call center, and two friends who don't know a lot about me, and I go to a yoga class, and I'm normal, and it's wonderful. Just let me keep that."

"We need you."

"No," she said, "you don't. You need superheroes, agent, not me. You need Tony Stark, and Captain America, and whoever else is dumb enough to come at your beck and call. But not me."

"Ma'am," said Coulson, "I'm afraid it's not optional. Unless you want to use force against my colleagues, but since that would most likely involve some display of-"

"Fine!" she cried out, "fine, have it your way. At least let me grab some things."

Coulson nodded. "Of course."

She went to the cupboard under the window, pulled out her emergency rucksack and slung it on over her shoulders, heart hammering in her chest. Slowly, reluctantly, she turned and took one two three four five six steps towards Coulson – then turned and sprinted towards the window, the yells of the SHIELD agents drowned out by the shattering of the glass as she hurtled out of the sixth storey window.

She slammed into the block opposite and grabbed hold of a windowsill before she fell, pulling herself up with ease and jumping from it onto a drainpipe two feet away. She could hear the barking of orders coming from her own apartment building, but knew they wouldn't shoot in a civilian area unless there was no other option; with a grimace, she shimmied up the pipe and, within seconds, was on the roof.

So much for normal people problems, she thought as she ran, picking up speed and jumping onto the next rooftop. The impact jarred her knees, her body out of shape and out of practice, but she knew if she ran for long enough then she stood a chance of –

"I'd stay still if I were you."

Lily staggered to a halt, breathing heavily. "Strike team delta," she panted, "long time, no see."

"Wish I could say we missed you," Barton replied, arms taut and perfectly steady with an arrow trained on her forehead, "but I've still got scars that are making me think otherwise."

"I never meant to hurt you," said Lily, "I never meant to hurt anyone. That's why I don't want to be a part of this. Why do none of you people understand that?"

"Don't you think you should be saying this to the Director?" Romanoff asked, red hair being teased across her face by the breeze.

"Not really." She was starting to freak out properly now; she wouldn't get involved in this again, she couldn't. "You realize I'm not another hero, right? I don't have a power, or an ability, or a super smart brain or a mega-strong alter ego or whatever, all I have is a – a monster inside of me. And it's not one that, that can be calmed down, you can't put a lid back on it, it's sick and scary and evil and it cannot help you. If you want to do any good in this world, you have to let me go, let me and let it disappear. I can manage it on my own, I swear to you, I have for the last two years."

Lily's full name was Lilith Stevenson, and that's what she knew was on her file. But SHIELD had given her a nickname – two, in fact. One for herself and one for the beast inside of her, and they were always said as a pair.

"You can use it for good," Barton told her, "just as Banner does."

"Don't," she said, "don't compare me to him. The Hulk is pure, he's pure rage, and that's not evil. I am. Please, I don't want to be a monster, I don't want to be it anymore, I don't want to hurt people. Please."

"Tell that to Fury," Barton said as he raised his bow – and then Romanoff placed on hand on his arm as she raised the other to her earpiece, her pistols back in their holsters. "Nat, what're you-"

"Empathising," Romanoff said shortly, "shut up – target ahead, they're fast but we're on their tail. Can't guarantee capture, out." Her eyes, calm and slightly narrow, met Lily's wide and panicky ones. "You have two minutes to get out of sight."

"Oh, God," she said, bending over, "thank you, thank you so much."

"Just run, Lily. Run and don't look back."

Lily did as she was told and disappeared over the edge of the rooftop; by the time night fell, she would already be on a Greyhound out of the city. Meanwhile, back on the roof, Barton lowered his bow and turned to his partner.

"So much for Jekyll and Hyde," he said, returning the arrow to his quiver, "what was that about empathising?"

"I'll tell you later," Natasha replied, slinging an arm around her best friend's shoulders. "She was right, though. A wildcard like that on a team full of wildcards was never gonna end well."

"Tell that to the big man," Barton grumbled, "you coming back to the farm after this mission?"

"As much as I'd love to, Fury wants me to shadow Stark for a while."

"Have fun with that."

"Oh, I will."

They descended back into the building, talking and laughing in the way soldiers did. But later that night, Natasha found a text on her personal phone from a withheld number, smiled to herself, and went back to constructing the alias of Natalie Rushman.

Thank you for understanding x - L

A/N because not all superpowers are great, right? Stands to reason. And I liked the idea of Natasha understanding what it's like to be scared of what you're capable of, in a way that Hawkeye couldn't understand. I hope this made sense - it's less of a self contained oneshot and more of a snapshot of a full story, most of which is left up to the reader's imagination to fill in, and I didn't want to give any context or explain that much anyway, but I doubt I pulled that off particularly well.

NEXT: "The worst superpower is never being able to die."