CHAPTER 21

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CHAPTER 21 Remember Budapest?

Natasha killed the engine of her motorcycle in a nondescript alley. With almost detached interest she noted the shifting curtains in the close-by windows. Dark forms appearing and vanishing just as quickly. Natasha brushed a hand through her hair, feeling the last of the small braids Hayden had woven into it come undone. Well then, let's see how this goes.

The bike parked at the side, weapons hidden safely under her leather jacket, Natasha strolled out into the streets of Budapest. Very sentimental and off of his usual courses. Then again, trudging up the past was all I did after meeting my sister… Thank God the Widows keep an eye out. She stopped at a red-light. Let's just hope they could keep him here long enough.

A woman stopped next to Natasha. Dark hair brushed back into a high ponytail, business costume a matching steely grey. The light switched to green. Natasha kept careful pace with the stranger. A few steps later the business woman entered another building. Not my contact then. Natasha kept walking, brushing a strand of dirty blond hair behind her ear. Then on to the next stop. It didn't hurt that Yelena had offered several meeting points all across several larger cities.

Café New York seemed innocuous enough from outside. Well, as innocuous as an ornately decorated building in the middle of Budapest could be. Striving towards the sky with three small towers, statues atop the corner-roof and awning windows. Natasha strode through the doors, offering a polite smile to the other occupants. A waiter came towards her with a thinly veiled frown.

"Ma'am."

English. That obvious you think? Natasha offered a very pleasant smile in return. Switching to perfect Hungarian, she replied, "Yes, good day, sir. A table for McLeod." Let's hope she still uses that name.

She shouldn't have worried. The waiter's face shifted in an instant. Gone was the slight reluctance in his gaze, replaced with the polite joy of paying customers on the horizon. "Miss McLeod, of course. Are you expecting anyone else?" He was already leading her further into the café.

"Yes, I am," Natasha replied easily. She followed him along spiralling columns, marble-patterned floors and mirrored tables. Natasha spared a glance at the stucco on the ceiling, noting the golden inlays, winged lions and spiralling floral patterns. Golden lamps like funnel-shaped flowers illuminated their descent into the lower part of the café. Yelena really didn't shy any costs. Let's just hope, she'll know to find me here.

"Would you like anything to drink?"

Natasha offered another smile, ordering a drink as she settled in to wait for the widow's birds to titter and get on her trail. They should have gotten on my trail as soon as I entered the city really. There are many widows still at least in communication with each other. If not all of them remained active.

Her Hungarian coffee arrived. A small plate with Hungarian cheese with fig chutney followed. A small amuse-gueule for a hopefully short time to wait for whoever might pick her up. Natasha let her eyes wander over the other patrons. Some of them were women, deep in conversation. Maybe Widows.

"My family disappeared. I'm going to avenge them. Don't try to find me. I'm sorry Tasha."

The message ran through her head again and again. Clint's agony mirrored in Natasha's own at the thought of never seeing her niece and nephews again. Laura. Her secret agent friend. You could have talked to me. I would have followed you. Wouldn't have been the first time. Us against the world. And there it was. The anger she hadn't allowed herself to feel since finding the message. Stupid. Stupid man. Why didn't you talk to me? We're a team.

The chair across from her was pulled out. Natasha suppressed the startle. Her head shot up to meet the perfectly neutral, scarred face of Antonia Dreykov. "Miss McLeod."

"Pleasure to meet you." Natasha shoved the plate a bit more towards the middle of their shared table. She ignored the looks she garnered for it. "It's been too long. I didn't expect to see you here."

The left corner of Antonia's mouth curled into a subtle smirk. "And I never expected to catch you off guard again." She picked a piece of cheese from the plate to pop it in her mouth. "So, what brings you to our lovely city?"

Natasha was saved from an immediate answer by the arrival of their waiter. Pulling the plate back to her side she smiled through Antonia's order of a cheesecake with complimentary coffee. As soon as the waiter disappeared, the women turned back towards each other.

"Cheesecake?"

"It's very good. My mother and I used to get it all the time." Antonia's eyes grew distant for a moment. Probably remembering a time long since passed. Before Natasha's mistake. Before Antonia was turned into a weapon. When life was simpler and happier. But as quickly as she disappeared, Antonia's steely gaze focused back on Natasha. "So, what brings you here?"

"A message from a friend."

"Oh? What kind of friend?"

Natasha shoved a copy of Clint's message across the table. "A good one."

While Antonia read and re-read the message, Natasha glanced around once more. Nothing much changed. The table with women had moved on to a collection of confectionaries and coffees, laughing about this or that. No one seemed to look in their direction more than normal. Then again, it could all be a trick. Widows are taught to blend in from a young age. Only time will tell, none survived until now without being some of the best.

Giving a non-committal hum, Antonia folded the message away. "I am sorry to hear that." She casually shoved it under Natasha's napkin just as the waiter returned. Antonia moved to allow the waiter to place her order in front of her. A crooked smile and they were alone again. "But you were right to come here. We might just find him. One of the others has an idea or two, I am sure."

So, there are a definitely Widows left in the city. That's … oddly reassuring. Natasha sipped on her coffee. Yelena was busy while I had to hide away. Her eyes darted around once more.

"Last I heard, your sister left for Norway," Antonia said, as if reading Natasha's thoughts. "But she did say we were to help you with anything should you decide to show up." A pointed look as she took a sip of her own drink. "So, we'll see of how much help we can be. I assume you have more information for me than just a months-old message."

So, Natasha carefully laid out the information they had been able to gather on Clint. His delve into the underworld. The probability of him killing other criminals in retribution of surviving where his family hadn't. What measures they had taken to find out about his whereabouts just in case the Widows would do the same. The longer the conversation went on, the more Antonia's face creased.

"He sure is slippery."

Natasha shrugged. "He worked with SHIELD. They trained him to be slippery. Had to be to catch me when he did." She drank from her coffee, now more lukewarm than hot. "Do you think we can track him down?"

Antonia scrutinized her for a moment, taking the time to look Natasha up and down. She leaned back in her chair. A tilt of her head was all the confirmation Natasha needed. She threw a casual smile in the direction she now knew the other Widows were placed. "A very costly hobby you have around here."

"You would know."

Antonia handed some money over to their waiter and stood. "Give us some time. We need to gather our own information. Get your things, meet us here."

Without much thought, Natasha looked underneath the receipt. Sure enough, Antonia had left her a card with an address. A new headquarter for the Widows that still remain. She turned it over in her hands. Yelena must have fought very hard to get them here. Keep them safe and save them. And I wasn't there because my second family was in trouble and I wanted to keep that away from them. She clenched her teeth. Well, no time like the present to reunite with some friends from work.

The coffee pot clanged against the worktable. Tony quickly grabbed it to keep the thing from crashing off the lip to the ground.

"Do you think we could calibrate this with Wong's magics to track Thanos' signature? Like some sort of echo location?" Tony looked up to see Rocket leaning around one of their machines, ears tilted questioningly. "Keep an eye out for him or the stones or whatever he's up to now?"

"I thought that's what we were already trying to do?" Rhodey didn't look up from tapping away on the simulators against the wall. "That's why Wong brought us his expertise and gave us the schematics after all."

Rocket scoffed. "Do you always the better than thou type or are you just in rare form today?"

Tony hummed his response to that. Then, "He's always a little condescending. It's what makes him so attractive." Without even looking, he heard the huffing laughter. "But you're right, we should definitely combine both to find the signatures of stone and raisin. Wong knows enough about Infinity Stones to make it an easy time to locate them."

"And then we can finally kick his ass." Rocket clanked against whatever he was working on to help their mission with a little more force than was necessary. "He took my friends. He took my kid."

Tony noticed Rhodey's very unsubtle glance back at him at the words. I lost the kid. That were some of my first words to Cap. And I still feel it. Pepper seems to walk around on eggshells when it comes to this. All of them do. Natasha really was the only one slightly less concerned and now she's off on her own mission. Just as she found her own kid… That boy has run around the compound with the saddest puppy eyes after her departure. To think, Pete might… And he felt it coming too… Felt that wretched, damned, on an alien planet.

Tony forcefully pulled away from the sudden vivid memory of his last moments on Titan. From the ashes covering his hands, the quivering voice of a teenager clinging to him, afraid to die. He grabbed his coffee pot and took another swig. The whiskey burned on the way down. The cup clanged against the worktable.

"I got something." A map flared to live in the middle of their workroom. Several planets and galaxies spinning around themselves. Tony turned, careful to keep leaning against his table as Rocket and Rhodey came up to look at it.

There. A few galaxies over. A small blinking dot.

"Well would ya look at that," Rocket was the first to find his voice. "I think, we have a heading now."

"How accurate," Rhodey stopped himself, staring transfixed at the dot. There, almost on top of it, was a second dot. Rhodey didn't need to ask. They knew each other long enough. Thanos and the stone were in the same place. So, Rhodey, visibly for Tony, rephrased his question. "How fast can we get the coordinates to Carol to check this out? Is the spaceship functional?"

"What do you think Nebula worked on all day, huh?" Rocket scrambled closer, trying to orient himself amidst the foreign galaxies. "We need to do some jumps to get here though. My guess is two or three."

"FRIDAY," Tony called out, "inform Carol and Okoye of the new development. If Wakanda has any insight, we'd be grateful for it. Or whatever else they can send to support our endeavour."

Rhodey crossed his arms, taking a deep breath. "Call the others in here as well. We need to start planning. Try to get Natasha and Thor on the phone. They should know."

As soon as FRIDAY sent the affirmative and Rocket scurried off to get Nebula, Rhodey sank down onto a chair. Massaging his calves and thighs, he looked up at Tony. "How are you feeling?"

"Never been better."

"Mhm, sure." Rhodey looked up from his meticulous work. "And what's the honest answer?"

I'm tired. I'm tired all the time. I could just sleep and eat for weeks. But if I sleep, all I see is that last moment and then other mistakes. All my mistakes. So why would I sleep, if I can help them all with my work out here so much more. Tony grabbed his pot and drank. "As good as can be expected, I guess. Still a bit like a new-born foal." His chuckle sounded slightly brittle even to his own ears. A starved foal. My legs can hardly keep me up for as long as they need to.

For a moment it seemed as if Rhodey would ask further, would probe and prod until Tony opened up. But then he just settled back in his chair to keep massaging his own aching legs. Grabbing the coffee pot, Tony allowed himself to settle on another chair close by. Staring at the map in front of them, he began calculating how far away that red dot could be. Just to pass the time.

Natasha stared up at the house, checked the card with the address again. So, this is the thing. This is the home the Widows chose. She took a breath.

Her phone rang. Avengers Compound. "Yes?"

"Agent Romanoff, missed me?" Tony's voice said.

"Terribly. What can I help you with?" Natasha shifted to stand to the side and let others pass by. "I'm kind of working on a thing of my own."

"Well, you remember our visitor? We found a solution to our problem," Tony said. "Thanos is in a galaxy not so far away from ours. With the stones – or at least the one Wong could hand us the signature of."

I can practically hear the Star Wars theme playing. Natasha leaned her head back. "That's good news. I was beginning to think you might have lost your drive, genius, billionaire, philanthropist." Playboy, she added in her head just out of habit. It didn't seem to fit Tony quite anymore. She watched a father and his daughter cross the street, chatting to each other with bright smiles. "How are you?"

There was a pause at the other end of the line. It lasted long enough that Natasha thought he might have just disconnected. Then, a sigh. Tired, worn out.

"That good," she said wryly. "You sound like me the first weeks after the Snap. Which, thinking about it, is logical. You had to worry about surviving first." Natasha paused, "It's okay to survive. We can get them back. We can save them. Your brain is what will save them, I trust you."

Tony didn't respond, he just listened. Maybe unable to respond or unwilling. Natasha could understand either way.

"Thank you for the news. When do you think you'll set off for Thanos? Do you think you'll be able to get me?"

Another pause, a thick breath before Tony replied. "Uh, yeah. We'll call again, when we have a timetable for that. The others are just coming in to discuss. You do your thing, see if you can find that eagle eye."

"Thank you, Tony." Natasha hung up.

"What did your friend want?" Antonia asked from next to her.

Natasha turned to see the other woman leaning against the half-open door. Her eyes darted around the street, keeping an eye out even if it might not be needed anymore. Old habits die hard. Plus, it can never hurt to be vigilant.

"They located Thanos. We'll go after him and hopefully reclaim whatever we lost."

There was a flicker of something across Antonia's face. Some emotion she didn't let linger long enough for Natasha to decipher, before a pleasant mask was slammed down in front of it. "I am sure, many people will be relieved to hear that."

There is something she's not telling me. "Say, do you know where Melina and Alexei are?"

"Miss Vostakova returned to Russia to keep an eye on Dreykov's allies. Shostakov," Antonia paused, weighed her head, turned to lead them into the house, "Last I heard, he left for Norway to catch up with Yelena. To her utter annoyance."

There is something she's trying to hide from me. Why would Alexei follow Yelena to Norway to free Widows but not assist Melina? Natasha narrowed her eyes behind Antonia's back. "Why would he leave Melina behind? Those two were close."

"There were news of Yelena finding a huge cell of former Widows. Should she free them, she might have needed his help to get them off site." Antonia locked the door behind them. "I'm surprised they didn't tell you."

"We were all a little busy after our reunion and your rescue. I was on the run, never in one place for long. And hunted by the government you don't really want to keep a phone around for longer than necessary."

"There would be ways."

"We had a young woman with us. She was my priority to keep safe," Natasha tugged at one of her shorter strands. "Priority was to keep a low profile."

Antonia didn't reply, even though they both could hear her thoughts ringing loud in the air between them. Where there was a will there was a way. And the fact that neither Natasha nor her family had reached out to one another was telling in a whole new way. The fact that the women now left that thread of conversation hanging was in itself telling as well.

I don't love them any less. But these are dangerous times and the Widows take care of each other. Clint doesn't have that privilege anymore. Now, he needs us and we need him. With that thought clasped in her mind, Natasha followed Antonia up the narrow staircase.

Up on the landing of the first floor, another woman stood in an open door. She looked Natasha up and down, then back to Antonia. With a nod, she led the way deeper into the flat.

"Lerato. Good to see you again," the Widow said. "Welcome to our humble abode."

"The same to you," Natasha replied. "I'm sure my sister has done enough to make this anything but humble."

"Your sister isn't always around." Lerato brushed her long cornrow braids off her shoulder. "But she's doing good work and so are you. We're just used to a few more shadows to complete our missions." She set up some water to boil, grabbed four plates, cutlery.

There it is again. I'm missing something. Something important. Natasha took the things pressed into her hands, gave a quiet nod. "I know, I'm sorry to even have to ask you. You did more than enough. You deserve the rest and peace."

Lerato scoffed, turning to leave the kitchen with a tray of tea and little snacks. "Sure. As if we know anything different. Could do anything different from slightly shady mercenary work."

"Lerato," Antonia chided softly, grabbing whatever was left, "She had enough of her own to deal with. Probably allowed us to fly under the radar some. Stop complaining."

Together, the women left the kitchen towards, Natasha suspected, the living room. Lerato and Antonia bickered with one another amicably until they entered the room. Natasha followed behind. And stopped in her tracks.

Amidst a horribly flowery living room full of throw blankets and embroidered pillows, pinks ribbons around turquoise curtains, sat Clint.