So a little warning. There will be events presented out of order in this story, as well as different points of view. This is usually signaled by a line break, and if it happened before AoU, then there will be a "Before" stamped on it ahead of time. But hey, ladies and gentlemen, we now have a (gasp) plot!

Natasha placed a plate full of steaming pasta in front of Wanda. The girl stared blankly at it before taking a single, tentative bite. After that, she dug in, eating until her fork scraped the plate. Natasha didn't even have to wait for her plea before she put more spaghetti and meatballs on her charge's plate.

"I saw a dark place when I saw your mind." Wanda spoke at last, wiping her face unceremoniously with her napkin.

"I was there. Remember?" Natasha smiled despite herself, "Those were unfortunate times."

"I'm sorry about intruding upon your mind."

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

"I—I trust you."

"Wanda—"

"I trust you even when nobody else does. I always trust you."

"Always will trust you. English tenses are difficult, aren't they?"

"Deflection."

"Good girl. Thank you for putting your trust in me. After your childhood and the hell you've been through, that's a very precious thing."

"You know better than them." Wanda lowered her voice slightly, "I saw—"

"You saw a place no one should ever go."

"They—they told me about the Red Room. I didn't believe them. I thought it was silly—and even when your files were leaked—it was just a rumor."

"It's never just a rumor."

"Could it still exist?"

"That's very—sadly very—possible, Wanda." Natasha shook her head, taking her time rolling noodles on her fork and taking a bite.

"You should look into it, Natasha." Wanda looked down at her plate, "At least my brother and I had a choice."

"And now you've made yours." Natasha covered Wanda's shaking hand, "As did your brother."

Wanda and Pietro were prepared to die the same day she almost fled. It was for people they only just met, people of the country they wanted to protect, and millions of people they didn't know. Natasha's choice had been pragmatic. It had been right. She could always be counted on to be pragmatic and practical, but she was still not quite used to reasoning things in terms of right and wrong. Wanda stood up, taking their plates to the sink to wash them.

The girl had become an unofficial roommate of sorts. She was placed in her care, even though Wanda was more than capable of taking care of herself. Even in her time of mourning, Wanda couldn't be distracted from the goal. Natasha surmised that her brother would have been very proud of Wanda. They would never know for sure though. He was dead.

Before

"You shouldn't beat yourself up about the helicarrier so much." Tony spoke suddenly, "Natasha's tough."

"I almost killed her—"

"Look, if there's anyone in the world that could figure out how to kill you if really, truly needed, it would be the Black Widow."
"That's a bit of a stretch—"

"No—no it's really not. I wouldn't be surprised if she's already cooked up a few good theories on it. The fact that she didn't want to test any of them out on you and your Hulkiness suggests that she, like the rest of us, likes having you around." Bruce snorted. He doubted it. He couldn't even die. That was the worst part. He couldn't find that final cure, so how could she?

Tony shook his head, "If anyone can kill you, it's Agent Romanoff. I have no damn clue why that would be a relief to you, but there you have it."

Both men grew silent when Natasha entered the room, her eyes catching Bruce's. She was humming a strange little tune he never heard before, "Fury wants to speak with you, Stark."

"uggh—what does Cyclops want now?"

"You said that last time. Here I thought you were clever." Bruce couldn't help but grin at Natasha's remark.

"I am clever!" Tony shouted as he walked out the door.

Natasha didn't have time for a reply that was no doubt at the tip of her tongue. Instead, she turned towards Bruce, "I don't know how you can stand him. Being his PA for two weeks was excruciating."

"You were his assistant?"

"Undercover." She pressed a finger against her lips, "The others don't know that entire story—shhhh."

Romanoff had been missing four days before Steve decided it was time to call it in. It wasn't in her nature to disappear, especially not without a mission. Yet, she wasn't anywhere to be found. At first, he simply assumed that she wanted to be alone for a while and it was highly unlikely that she had been kidnapped. Four days seemed far too permanent though, permanent like Banner's abandonment. It didn't sit well with him.

"My problem with Romanoff being gone, is mainly that we won't be able to find her if she doesn't want to be found. Tracking Banner is easy in comparison."

"Wait, you know where Dr. Banner is?"

"Yeah—why?"

"Has it occurred to you that maybe that's where she went?"

"Why would she go there—?"

"You are an idiot." Hawkeye shook his head like Steve was a lost cause. Steve didn't particularly like that look on him but decided to ignore the comment.

"So Black Widow's hooked up with the Hulk in some remote part of South America then?" Tony asked, not even looking away from the data he had on the display.

"Well, actually it's Russia but—"

"Even better. We can get some good vodka while we're there."

"You're not taking this seriously—"

"Look. It's Natasha. Super not so secret anymore agent and assassin that is likely in her homeland, sipping vodka with Dr. Banner. Maybe they need somewhere quiet. Somewhere to be alone for a while."

"Did you say something that was actually heartfelt and genuine?"

"No, I just don't feel like going to Russia."

"We could at least make contact with Banner."

"Good. You do that. I'm looking at solar panels for the new place."

"That's—nice, I guess. Barton, want to go check it out with me?"

"Yeah. Nat would at least give me a tip off, though. Especially if she was going off grid with Banner. He's terrible at covering his tracks by the way."

"And that's why he's a Hulk scientist, and not a spy."

"You're worried too, admit it. Laura will have a fit if she knows Natasha's gone AWOL on us. She's supposed to babysit on the twelfth."

Steve looked at both of the men, "Am I the only one that's worried?"

"No." Hawkeye replied, his light tone suddenly changing, "I'm just waiting for you to tell me when we ship out."

Bruce almost dropped his coffee mug, staring at the three men standing at his door. Wanda Maximoff was behind them, her arms crossed to ward off the cold, but she was staring calculatingly into his eyes. The Other Guy stirred for a moment, but then he fell silent, much to Bruce's relief.

"You found me."

"We never lost you." Steve said, his kind voice sounding more patronizing than anything else. "Agent Romanoff told us that we should leave you alone for a bit."

"Wh—"

"Look, vacation's over, pal." Tony interrupted, "We need your help again—Wanda?"

"She's not here." Wanda replied.

"Do I have to stop global destruction again?" Bruce asked wearily.

"No—"

"Tasha's gone missing." Wanda interrupted Clint, "We must find her."

"Maybe she doesn't want to be found." Bruce didn't know where to put his hands, and ended up clasping them in front of himself like a chastised school boy. He didn't want to think about Natasha. He didn't want to think about any of it, but they didn't seem to be giving him a choice.

"Natasha's not like you." Wanda snapped, her eyes burning red as the shutters on the cottage flapped back and forth.

"Wanda—calm down—"

"She doesn't run."

That hurt. Not enough for him to transform, but that hurt. Bruce shook his head, "Do you have any idea where she is?"

"We think she's here, in Russia. We thought she might have sought you out."

"No—she hadn't." Bruce's heartbeat increased slightly. Had she intended to? What would she have said? Would he just allow her to manipulate him all over again? Where was she? Why was he bothering with asking about this at all? He wanted to ask all of these questions, but instead, what came out of his mouth was "We'll find her."

The next time Natasha thought about Pietro and Wanda, she was hiding. She was going to die that night. It was an eventuality that hung over her head and weighed her down. There weren't many things that she wanted to say to anyone. Oddly enough, apologizing to Laura Barton about unexpectedly dropping off the face of the earth was the first thing she thought of doing. Telling her, Clint, and the children how much she cared for them all was next. Everyone else would assume what she would have said to them, based on their limited knowledge of her.

She gasped, clutching the wound in her side, literally feeling the poison pulsing through her swelling veins as her heart worked in overtime (and in vain) to keep her body going.

"Tattie—what should I do?" A girl's voice made it through the haze that overtook Natasha's mind.

It took her a moment to grasp for her native Russian,"Be a dear." Natasha's voice sounded oddly cold and detached, even to her own ears, "And shoot me in the head."

She heard the gun click.

No one could really know what the dead thought of them.