Chapter 24
Steve and Tony sit across from the two assassins. Steve wishes he had the words for the disappointment he feels in seeing them injured… again.
He crosses his arms and waits for them to talk; explain themselves.
There’s a woman in the basement.
A dead Russian diplomat, head of the Red Room, found by Shield. Dead widows and two more hog tied and gagged.
This feels like an intervention; or an interrogation.
They look to each other, and do the silent conversation that Tony hates so much.
“Start at the beginning,” Tony prompts, “and don’t leave out any details.”
“Dreykov is dead,” Clint states, “what more is there to know?”
.
Tony rubs his hand over his face, meeting Natasha in the kitchen.
“Who is she to you?” he asks, handing her some water, choosing to ignore the fact that she still only uses one arm and hasn’t done anything to immobilize the other.
She sips the water, pouring the rest down the sink.
“Someone I used to know and love,” she says truthfully.
It strikes Tony that he doesn’t know Natasha extremely well. Or, he does, but he doesn’t know her past.
“We went through hell together, and somehow survived.”
Tony understands a little.
“She’s you, adjacent.”
He gets a smile at that, or a patented upturn of the lips.
“Kind of.”
They stand in waiting for the other to talk.
“You can’t leave her down there, you know? You will need to talk to her eventually.”
Natasha nods.
“I know.”
She sighs and pours another drink, the action perhaps unconscious, as she hands it to Tony.
“I just wanted to give her time to think about what she wants to do.”
Staring straight ahead, Clint still in her line of sight, there’s moments where she’s brought back to her own decisions, why she chose to be a part of Shield, then, of the Avengers.
“Did you know, when Clint first asked me to join Shield, I stole all of his possessions and then ran away?”
She turns to Tony and smiles again at the memory.
“He then got caught up in following me and got into trouble in his own right.”
“And then you saved him?” Tony asks, intrigued.
“Something like that.”
He’s impressed that after the last two days, she’s still not lost in herself as he’s seen her do many times after big days and big emotions.
Maybe she’s holding it all together, keeping strong and guarded until she can find a place to fall apart.
“How are you?” he ventures.
She bites her lip, a quirk he’s seen Clint do.
“I’m okay,” she decides on. “It’s like all these things have happened and I don’t know how to process it. I keep thinking… I keep thinking that if I can make it through today, then I can rest tomorrow. And then, there’s more.”
He nods.
“Always something?”
“Always something.”
“What would have made it easier for you?” he asks tentatively.
She shrugs, the question feeling personal.
“Maybe options? Knowing that death or defection weren’t the only two options?”
Tony’s stomach drops.
Having never had to make decisions around his own death, not directly anyway, he can’t imagine having to make a choice about it.
“Are you going to talk to her?”
Natasha nods, eyes blank. He can almost see the thoughts and fear.
“Maybe she’ll choose to stay here,” he says, unsure if it’s what she wants.
“Maybe.”
There’s a pause.
“You cured me of his voice in my head and I never thanked you for that.”
Tony knows he can’t accept the thanks, so he waves it off, as she doubles down.
“Do you think you could make an antidote for it? A general one I mean.”
Natasha thinks that it is what she would want, even if he’s dead, to make sure no one could give orders to her and make her do anything she didn’t want to.
Tony nods slowly.
“I think so, it would be an extrapolation of the initial compounds, the nanites that are in your blood now more generic, so if it’s something they have too, I think… I think I could do it,” he tells her.
She steps to the door.
“Thank you, I won’t forget what you’ve done.”
He wonders later why her words sounded like a goodbye.
.
Jace paces back and forth.
Although she didn’t like Lotte and Grace, she wonders what happened to them.
There’s no love lost for Max, the little girl who used to like picking flowers went a long time ago, cruelty and anger making her into a ruthless widow that seemed to have no good left.
She will always remember her though.
She rubs her thumb across the scar on her palm, wondering what the day holds.
.
Natasha stands at the elevator.
She’d told Clint she didn’t want him with her, but being here alone, she wishes he was by her side.
Fear holds her stationary, as she works to get her breathing under control. No weaknesses, not now.
Jace watches Natasha opening the door, standing on the opposite side of the room.
“I’m sorry,” she opens, “for not coming sooner. It’s selfish on my part, to leave you waiting. Wondering.”
Jace doesn’t move, even as Natasha sits on the bed.
The only weapon she has is the sharpened toothbrush, and the terrain. Sometimes that’s all you need.
“The other two are under surveillance by Shield. It’s likely they will be debriefed and then given a choice between being locked up or joining shield.”
There’s a pause and shake in her breath.
“They don’t know you’re here. Whether you want to stay or go is up to you. You have the choice.”
She pulls out a small bag, making Jace stand back.
“Sorry, it’s just…”
Opening it she shows Jace the money inside, a change of clothes and disposable phone.
“It’s not much, but it’s enough to get you where you need to go.”
Jace stares.
She doesn’t know what to say but she knows freedom is not something that she takes lightly.
Natasha seems unsure what to do next, the silence unnerving.
“Do you remember when we did the morning run, and Max picked the flowers, put it in her hair, and then they shaved her head when she came back?”
Jace crosses her arms across her body, the death still fresh. She’s not quite ready to reminisce, despite the fact there’s no love lost.
Natasha seems to take the hint, standing and moving to the door.
“It’ll be open. You can leave when you want, if you decide you want to stay, just be here tomorrow and we will work it out then what to do next.”
Pausing, she turns to look at Jace, really look at her.
“I am sorry. For everything. For leaving, for not coming back… I wanted to.. I just.. couldn’t.”
Her voice cracks.
Jace hears her, she also doesn’t blame her. She can’t say what she wants, she doesn’t know what that is.
Her heart hurts.
It’s not fair.
.