Chapter 6
Natasha woke up the next morning on the couch, one of Sam's wool blanket tucked around her. She felt comfortably sleepy. She sat up with a stretch, ran her fingers through her knotted hair. For the first time in a while her head felt clear, her usual hangover surprisingly absent, replaced with the aches of a hard workout from yesterday.
She yawned, tossed off the blanket. Steve's sketchpad lay open on the coffee table to a half-finished picture of her sleeping face. She smiled at the sight of it and managed to push herself off the couch and shuffle towards the kitchen. She could hear something crackling on the stove.
“Is there any news?” she called as she entered the room.
Bruce turned around and she stopped dead.
“Hey,” he said nervously. “I didn't actually know you were here.”
She stared at him.
“Want some breakfast?” he offered weakly.
“Were you kidnapped?” she said suddenly.
“What? No,” he said.
“Did you hit your head? Wake up with a nasty case of amnesia?”
“Natasha-”
“Did you?”
“No.”
She shrugged. “Then nothing you say is going to make this okay.”
“Natasha.”
“What?” she snarled. “What can you possibly have to say to me?”
“I had to leave,” he said. “I need you to trust me that I had to leave.”
Silence hung in the kitchen. Natasha opened her mouth and laughed, a harsh, cold laugh.
“You disappear for three months and that's what you have to say to me?”
Bruce slammed his palm down on the counter. Natasha didn't even flinch, glaring at him stoically.
“You know what, you don't get to play the victim with me,” he snapped. “We were gonna run. We were gonna do it together.”
“We were gonna leave a city with all our friends on it to crash into the earth and wipe out all life,” Natasha said. “But no, you're right. I'm sure our romantic get away would have been much improved by the fiery death raining from the sky.”
“You told me you were ready to hang it all up,” he said. “What happened to “I'm not really an avenger”?”
“I woke up,” she said coldly. “I stopped feeling sorry for myself and I did what had to be done. Because that's what I had to do.”
“So, at Clint's farm, everything you said – all that was just another lie?” he laughed bitterly. “I thought we were past you batting your eyes to get me to do what you want.”
“What I said to you – I said it after Wanda had fucked me over royally, but you know what, fine. I'm sorry if my moment of weakness let you justify your self hatred.”
Bruce recoiled slightly, as though she'd slapped him. “That's all I was to you?” he said, softly. “A moment of weakness?”
She stared at him levelly. “It's starting to look that way.”
She turned towards the door. “You spend so much time complaining about being a monster,” she said quietly, “but when the time came to be a hero, you ran.”
She left the room without looking back.
Steve was standing outside the kitchen, looking distinctly awkward.
“You really don't pull your punches, do you?” he said nervously.
“You think I should have?” she said, walking past him.
Steve followed her, struggling despite his strength to keep up with her. “I was going to warn you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Maybe more for Bruce's sake than yours.”
“Bruce can take care of himself too.”
“Natasha!” He grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”
“Don't worry about it,” she spat. “They'll live.”
She took off again. Steve stared after her.
“Who'll live?” he called. “Natasha!”
The lights of the bifrost blinked out suddenly, leaving them alone in the dark. Cold, still air wrapped around them. In the silence, their breath seemed very loud.
“Are we here?” Clint said.
“I believe so,” Vision replied quietly.
They strained their eyes into the darkness.
“We need some light,” Thor said.
There was a rustle of fabric as Wanda raised her arms. “I can do that.”
A red glow began to waft from her fingertips, streams of light rolling off her them into an orb that hung above their heads, lighting their faces with an eerie pallor.
They were standing beside a stream. The dark water made no sound as it rushed past them, churning and frothing. They could see only a few feet on either side of where they stood, huddled together almost unconsciously. All the rest was black. They stood on flat and cracked dirt which kicked up a faint cloud of dust whenever they moved.
“Where are we?” Clint whispered.
“The Valley of Nights,” Thor said. He stared off into the darkness. “We must follow the river downstream.”
They set off walking, Wanda's orb floating a few feet in front of them.
“How do you know which way to go?” Clint asked after a little while.
“According to legend, there is a bridge not far ahead that we must cross,” Thor said.
“How does legend know where we ended up?” Clint said.
“Just trust me, archer,” Thor sighed. “The river Gjoll runs downstream to the Gjoll bridge.”
“The river what?”
“Gjoll, Clint.”
“Why aren't your rivers ever called normal names?” Clint said.
“They're normal in Norse,” Thor said, a little indignantly.
“What does Gjoll mean in Norse?”
“Noisy.”
Clint glared at him. “That makes no sense. The river isn't making any sound.”
“What are you talking about?” Wanda said. “It's driving me crazy.”
The three men stopped to stare at her.
“What?” she said softly.
“You can hear the river?” Thor said.
“Can't you?” she looked around. “Can't all of you?”
They shook their heads. Wanda looked frightened.
“Why not?”
“I would imagine,” Vision said softly, “that is because only the dead can hear it.”
“I'm not dead,” she said.
“No,” he said. “But you are carrying the dead inside of you.”
She swallowed dryly.
“It proves that we are not wrong about your brother's soul,” Vision said swiftly. He took her hand in his. “I swear to you, nothing is going to harm you here.”
She nodded, a wan half-smile still lighting up her face. She stepped forward, tilting her head up towards his-
Clint coughed significantly. “It's still a stupid name.”
“It's not a stupid name,” Thor said, snapping right back to their previous argument.
“Yes, it is.”
“What, and the Hudson makes more sense to you?”
“Hudson is a name.”
“So is Gjoll!”
“Is this really the place to argue linguistics, gentlemen?” Vision interrupted. Clint shrugged and kicked at the dirt in front of him.
“Is it snack time yet?” he asked plaintively.
“Are you like this on SHIELD missions?” Thor snapped exasperatedly.
“Usually,” Clint said cheerfully. “Nat's been known to tranc me.”
“I can't imagine why,” Vision muttered. Wanda laughed quietly and Vision met her eyes with a smile that sent shivers up and down her spine.
“No snacks,” Thor said firmly. Clint pouted.
They walked on. The light did not change, remaining pitch black outside the glow of Wanda's orb.
“I'm starting to see why its called the Valley of Night,” Clint said.
“See? The names make sense,” Thor said. “It's no worse than your 'grand canyon'.”
They walked on. Nothing changed. No one spoke. The silence and darkness was oppressive.
“There's nothing out here,” Wanda said softly.
Vision looked concerned. “What do you mean?”
“I can always feel it,” Wanda said. “Life. It... hums. In the background.” She shrugged. “I can't feel anything here.”
Clint and Thor exchanged worried glances.
“Even the river is just sound,” she said. “It doesn't feel like anything.”
“That is because it is nothing,” a loud voice boomed out of the darkness.
Their reactions were instantaneous – Vision lifted off the ground to hover in the air, Clint drew his bow. Thor spun Mjolnir threateningly as Wanda's eyes lit up red and she threw the orb into the sky, where it suddenly blazed upon the golden roof of a bridge.
“Don't worry,” the giantess said. “I'm nothing too.”
Laura Barton had just finished taping up all the boxes for the living room when the doorbell rang. She pushed herself up from the floor, stretching as she walked into the the foyer where Natasha Romanoff was pushing into the house and slamming the door behind her.
“Is everything okay?” Laura asked.
“Please tell me you have vodka,” Natasha snapped. Laura relaxed slightly – vodka was Natasha's i'm-pissed-about-something drink, not her your-husband's-in-terrible-danger drink.
“Of course we have vodka, your birthday's in a month,” Laura said, following Nat into the kitchen. “Top shelf.”
Nat found the bottle and twisted off the top savagely.
“We don't have glasses-” Laura began, but Natasha was already practically chugging the bottle. “Never mind,” she said, sitting at the kitchen table. “Wanna talk about it?”
“No,” Natasha said. “I wanna drink.” She offered Laura the bottle.
“I'm breastfeeding,” Laura said. Natasha wrinkled her nose in disgust and chugged another quarter of the bottle.
“Okay, that's enough,” Laura said, yanking the bottle out of her hand. “What is wrong with you?”
Natasha just glared at her sullenly.
“Is everyone okay?” she said, a slight tremor of fear running through her chest.
“Everyone's fine,” Natasha spat, throwing herself into the seat across from Laura. “They're fucking peachy.”
Laura watched her patiently.
“You're using your mom face on me,” Natasha said. “It's not going to work. I have torture resistance training.”
Laura still said nothing. Natasha sighed deeply.
“Bruce came back.”
Laura gave a low whistle and passed the bottle back to Nat. “And?”
“And nothing.”
“Judging by the amount of booze you just chugged, I hardly believe its nothing.” She shrugged sympathetically. “What did he say?”
“That I had to “trust him” that he “had to leave”,” Natasha drawled bitterly.
“Probably not the best thing to open with.”
She shrugged miserably. “He was fine,” she said, softly. “I know its awful, but I kind of hoped-”
“That some sort of disaster had befallen him and that's why he didn't call?” Laura said with a gentle smile.
“Am I the worst?” Nat asked, looking up at her with sad green eyes.
“Are you kidding me? I wished every day that my high school crush's girlfriend would get hit by a bus,” Laura said. “You're in love.”
Natasha gagged slightly.
“Oh, grow up,” Laura said. “I swear, Lilah has more emotional maturity than you and Clint combined.”
“That's unfair. You know Clint's maturity is in the negatives.”
“Look, Nat-” Laura bit her lip. “He came back. Not everyone does. Maybe give him a chance to explain himself before you write him off completely?”
“I didn't get where I am today by giving second chances,” Natasha snapped.
“No, but you were given a second chance.” Natasha stuck her tongue out. “And that's hardly a fair comparison, Nat,” Laura continued. “I'm fairly certain Bruce isn't going to try to stab you in your sleep.”
“Once. That happened once, and neither of you will let it go!”
“Nat?” Laura said. “Did you talk to him?”
Natasha shrugged, took another slug of the bottle.
“When that finally hits you, I am not going to be the one mopping you up off the floor,” Laura warned.
“It wasn't supposed to be like this,” Nat said softly. “I thought he was going to be – steady. Safe.”
“Oh, hon,” Laura said, taking her hand. “No guy is ever safe.”
Natasha smiled weakly. “How'd you do it? How'd you turn a grade-a fuck up like Clint into what he is now?”
“I did have help,” Laura grinned. “And more importantly? I didn't stop Clint from being a fuck up. I just made him want to. He made me want to. That's all you can really hope for, you know?” She sighed. “I don't know if Bruce is that person for you. But on the off chance he is? I think you should talk to him.”
“I'm glad Clint married you,” Natasha said.
“Yeah, he made a good call on that one,” Laura laughed. She stood up. “The kids'll be home soon. Help me load up the truck before you start seeing double and we'll all drive up to the base for the weekend.”
“Next time there might be a giant involved,” Clint yelled, “do us a favor and tell us!”
“I didn't know about this!” Thor yelled back, jumping out of the way of a smashing fist. “I figured it was a legend!”
“That's what we said about you!” Clint shouted, firing an arrow up at the giantess's neck. She plucked it out of the air and snapped it in half. Clint whimpered.
“Aw, arrow, no.”
“I don't see why you're blaming me!” Thor boomed, smashing Mjolnir into the giantess's foot and causing her to stagger dangerously. “She's the one who attacked us!”
“You're the one who said we just had to walk for a little while!”
“I said it would be dangerous!”
“Would you two stop bickering and help?” Wanda snapped, freezing the giantess's hand with a net of red energy. She roared in frustration, yanking the arm back and forth as Wanda worked to maintain the energy, the giant screaming with pain as Vision zapped her with a jet of golden light and Thor launched into her, knocking her off balance. Her foot smashed into the ground only inches away from where Clint stood, and with a sudden roar he could hear the black waters behind him churning away. He threw himself backwards, out of the light, away from the sound, and it faded away to nothing once more.
Wanda threw up her arms suddenly, seemingly for no reason until Vision swept down to scoop her up and dodge the giantess's groping hands to bring her close enough to her face to send a beam of red energy into her eyes with an intricate wave of her fingers. Instantly, the giantess froze, a look of horror on her face. She whimpered softly and fell to her knees.
“Let us pass,” Wanda snarled.
“It is for your sake as well,” the giantess wept. “The world of the dead is never kind to mortals.”
Vision lowered Wanda to the ground. “The world of the living has not been kind to me either,” she said. “Let me pass.”
“I cannot,” the giantess whimpered. Wanda flicked her wrist. A spray of red energy flew into the giantess's face and she began to scream. A red light began to swirl around Wanda, and Clint could feel the energy of it like the tension in the air just before a thunderstorm.
“I am taking back my brother,” Wanda snarled. “With or without your help.”
The giantess writhed as the red light surrounded her, digging into her skin.
“Let. Us. Pass,” Wanda hissed.
The giantess gave a final, choking scream and fell forward. Vision yanked Wanda out of the way, pulling her into the air and out of the cloud of dust. The light of Wanda's powers faded, leaving only the orb still glowing in the sky.
“What the hell?” Clint choked as the dust settled.
“She's alive,” Wanda said grimly as Vision placed her on her feet once more. “Now let's go.”
She turned away from the three men still gathered at the head of the fallen giant and, staggering slightly, walked stoically across the bridge and into the valley of death.