Chapter 30
Three months later
Natasha closes her book, the ending somewhat satisfactory. She focuses on the feeling of the sand beneath her, and the sound of the waves of the sea below.
She digs her toes in further, glancing idly at her phone.
4pm.
They have two hours before they arrive.
She should go help Clint.
Taking one last glance of the empty beach, she smiles softly to herself and picks up the book.
Clint had shooed her out around midday telling her to go finish her book and get the last bit of peace before the others arrived.
She’s laughed as he pushed her out the door, the sun bright, and the day perfect to relax.
Natasha wipes her feet at the door, dusting them off and smelling the cookies through the door, before she even opens it.
“You made cookies?” she calls, entering the house.
It’s not only that, he’s cleaned the house.
Clint rounds the corner, a smile on his face as he sees her.
“I made cookies,” he smiles, “the ones you like with the icing.”
She follows him into the kitchen seeing the brightly coloured cookies cooling on the bench.
Natasha hugs him, feeling more comfortable with touch now than she had when they first arrived. She’s able to offer it, receive it and sometimes even seeks it out.
The progress is praised, but it makes her feel more human, to have made it to this point.
No longer flinching as he kisses the side of her head, she beelines for the cookies, pulling out of his touch.
“How long til they get here?” he asks, looking at his phone.
Natasha shrugs, lost in a memory of the deliciousness of the cookie, the first time she had them.
“You okay?”
She hums, mouth full.
“You remember when you first baked these?” she mumbles.
Clint picks up another cookie that’s shaped like captain’s shield, and bites down on it.
“The first week we got here?” he asks.
She nods, “yeah, it was like the first food I enjoyed in so long.”
He looks at her strangely.
“I didn’t know that,” he confesses.
Chewing thoughtfully, she wonders just how much to tell him.
“I don’t think I’d slept in like almost three days, and hardly eaten anything and you made them. The smell broke me out of some panic attacks so much so that I wanted to taste them.”
She pauses.
“So I did. And then I ate another. And I forgot that some food in your stomach could make some of the ugliness go away.”
He looks contemplative, “you went outside the next day?”
Natasha nods, remembering the first step out the door being hard, but the sea had drawn her in.
“It gave me energy to face the day, in a way that I hadn’t been able to.”
He looks at the cookie in his hand.
“Well shit, maybe I should be cooking these more often.”
Laughing lightly, she grabs another and nods.
“Magical cookies you have here.”
They putt about the house, music on in the background, readying the bedrooms for the soon to arrive guests.
.
Tony arrives early. Entering the house he bursts in without knocking, talking loudly.
“You’d better come help me, the car is full, and I come with food and a whole bunch of toys.”
Clint is first to see him, clasping hands and hugging in delight at the sight of his friend he’s only been talking to on the phone.
“Hey man,” he smiles.
“It’s good to see you.”
Tony hands him a basket of strawberries and then gestures to the car.
“Come help me.”
Clint frowns, “we said not not bring anything.”
Tony laughs.
“Yeah sure, and you think I’d listen?”
The answer is flippant but Clint feels like Tony does everything in abundance, why should this be any different?
Natasha appears, and laughs at them both, carrying a variety of fruit up to their chins.
“We said not to bring anything.”
Tony carries his keys in his mouth as he answers.
“Go help,” comes the muffled reply, and Natasha dutifully heads to his convertible.
Her breath catches when she sees the box of Russian candy.
He’d remembered.
She picks it up, the box fairly light, and hugs it close to her body.
Natasha looks into the car, not seeing anything else to bring in, but hears the roar of Steve’s bike coming up the drive.
Deciding to wait to greet him, Tony and Clint come back out to see what’s held her up, and all three wait.
Steve’s hair is longer than she remembers and for some reason it makes a breath catch in her throat about just how long she’s been away. How long this has taken her, still taking her to heal; to get over this.
But she swallows it down and greets him with a hug as well.
“Hey,” he says, hanging onto her a little longer and a little harder than she’s used to.
“Hey,” she replies.
“Don’t leave me in the tower with Tony again, okay?”
He says it with a tone of seriousness and mirth but she understands the underlying sentiment.
Steve has lost so many people in his life, but in ways they’ve just disappeared or he has.
She nods, grinning, “you guys are bunking together in the same room, you know?”
Tony groans, overhearing the conversation.
“Why didn’t you take me up on the offer for the bigger house on the hill?”
Clint hugs Steve too, taking his bag from his bike and leading the way in.
“Because that’s not what we needed,” he replies with a flick of his hand.
Steve takes in the cottage and all the considerations in it, built perfectly for two spies. Up high enough for Clint, smaller windows for Natasha, multiple exits and he’s sure he’s not seeing everything.
She nudges him.
“What are you thinking about?”
Steve covers his thoughts.
“When does Bruce get here?”
Tony answers readily, and Steve knows he’s been keeping a close eye on everyone from afar.
“He’s coming from an island I bought him. He’ll probably be here tonight.”
Clint nods and opens the back door up, the smell of the sea air permeating through. He shows the two men around whilst Natasha sits in the kitchen, waiting for their return.
.
He catches her alone in the kitchen, bringing in the glasses that have held wine, spirits and vodka. Taking them from him, she rinses them out, and he grabs a tea towel to dry them.
“Thanks,” she nods.
Tony hands them back to her to put away.
“How are you?” he asks, softly, quietly like the secret can stay between them.
“And don’t give me the bullshit response that you gave the others that things were hard but now they’re better.”
He pauses.
“I know you.”
His piercing stare makes her drop her gaze.
“I know you.”
She nods. He does.
Sometimes she thinks they’re cut from the same cloth and although lives two separate lives, there’s similarities that she loves they share; a darkness that not everyone understands.
“How’s Liho?”
He stares, frustrated at her non answer.
“She’s fine, she’s with Pepper, they’ve got a bond. Did you know she likes being on a lead outside?”
Natasha laughs at that, something she would have never have thought of doing with a stray cat, would be to train it to go on a lead.
He waits her out.
“I don’t know,” she says finally.
“I think I’m okay, but then little things will happen and I won’t be. It was bad that first month. I can’t even tell you what happened, Clint probably can.”
Natasha looks at him as a slight realisation dawns.
“Thank you, for taking care of him, whilst I couldn’t. I know it was you calling and making sure he was okay here.”
Tony waves her off.
“It been getting better, I’m not there yet. I don’t think I’m ready… for a lot of things. There are things that… still hold strong memories, but I’m working on it. I’m working through it.”
She laughs.
“It’s a daily job.”
Tony smiles with her.
“You’re so bored aren’t you?”
Natasha laughs again.
“So much.”
“And the therapist?”
“She’s been so patient. I think I’m her full time job.”
Offering Tony a drink, she sits down at the table next to him.
“Clint’s going now too,” she mentions, “sometimes together, which I think helps.”
“I’ve been seeing mine,” he confesses.
“Seeing you, like that…I think it brought up some things for me.”
They’re quite, hearing Steve, Clint and Bruce talk loudly in the other room.
“Steve’s been going too.”
Tony shrugs.
“I guess we all have a lot of baggage to work through.”
“I think so.”
She clinks her glass with his, and notices Clint at the door.
He still hasn’t been able to leave her for long periods, calling it separation anxiety, but she knows that the fear that she’s going to leave still holds strong.
“You like the therapist?” she calls.
Clint nods, “you guys coming back.”
Tony is first to stand, grabbing his drink and nudging Natasha as they walk back together.
“I’ll help you with the boredom thing.”
She eyes him, pursing her lips and smirking.
“Get it past Clint first and we’ll talk.”
.
There’s a slight heaviness that settles on her.
She watches the others talk and laugh and can’t help but feel a bit removed, her mind wandering and creating scenarios that she reframed consciously.
They’re here out of pity and curiosity, a part of her says, but she knows it’s not true. They wouldn’t have come out, not here, if they rudely didn’t want to.
Tony wouldn’t have brought her candy, Steve wouldn’t be making plans with her, and the thing that makes her smile, Bruce wouldn’t have come and brought them flowers from his island.
Claiming he didn’t know what to bring, when they told him not to bring anything, he’d turned up with an array of beautiful flowers she couldn’t stop looking at.
“What do you think, Nat?” Clint asks, touching her hand gently, but she hasn’t been listening.
He covers quickly, seeing the confusion pass her face.
“Sweet or sour candy? Steve thinks that sweet candy is the best but Tony contends that sour is, you know my opinion.”
“And I prefer savory, over either,” Bruce comments.
Natasha gives a shrug and comments that she doesn’t mind either option.
“But,” she clarifies, “I’ll always take the sweeter option.”
Clint and Steve look smug as Tony pouts and Bruce cracks up.
Glancing at the time, she realizes it’s just past 1am.
No good thoughts happen past midnight, and it’s likely she needs to go to bed.
Yawning, she stands.
“Sorry boys, I think I need to sleep.”
They nod, standing as well.
“No no, stay, you know where your rooms are?”
Clint throws a pillow at Steve.
“If your old brain can remember where I said,” he goads.
“Hey! Technically he’s older,” Steve exclaims, throwing it to Tony.
“Lies! He’s a year older than me,” Tony growls, throwing it to Bruce.
She can’t help but smile by their antics, but still, she knows if she has any chance at sleep, she needs to go now.
“Goodnight boys, play nice,” she departs, giving them a nod as she heads for her bedroom.
She’d forgotten how exhausting being around people was. Even when it’s people that she loves and likes spending time with.
Quickly brushing her teeth, swallowing the medication and washing her face, she climbs into the cold bed, curls in on herself.
Everything is okay, she rehearses.
Everyone is safe.
Tomorrow will be a good day.
And she hopes like hell she’s not wrong.
.
“How is she really?” Steve asks, Natasha’s lithe form now not in view.
Clint sighs, knowing the question was coming. They’d all been in various stages of communication after they’d left, Tony checking in the most, Steve a close second and Bruce doing what he can.
He’d kept them updated as much as he could, but how do you tell someone over the phone that someone they love is drowning, and the only lifeline they had was time and space?
“Better,” is the word he decides on, feeling comfortable with it as soon as he says it.
“Lots of things are helping. She wouldn’t have agreed for you to come if she wasn’t in a space to see people.”
He looks to Tony.
“You know she wouldn’t.”
“So… so she just…” Steve sighs and rubs his face, the same way Tony usually does.
“We send her back to Russia, she gets tortured, we rescue her and then she goes looking for them to finish them off… then you two just disappear here for over three months, and she’s just ‘better’?”
Clint feels anger at the oversimplified version of events and the work they’ve done to get here. For Natasha to be better.
“No,” he frowns.
“That’s not it, that’s not…”
He forces himself to take a breath.
“She’s worked hard on getting better, talked to the therapist daily, worked on sleep and talking through things.”
It’s only then he realises Steve has manipulated him.
“We are doing better. We are. It’s just that it takes time and it’s hard.”
His voice peters off.
“It’s hard,” he whispers.
Bruce hands him a cookie and he takes it in thanks.
“She seems better,” he says, “than when I last saw her.”
“And she’s talking more,” Tony adds.
“And she’s better at concentrating and not getting… stuck? I think?” Steve comments.
It’s nice, having them realize that there have been changes, sometimes he’s too close to see any change is happening; sometimes he knows intimately what those changes are.
“Thanks for coming.”
The words are slightly forlorn.
“She’s been looking forward to seeing you all… I have too. I hope you have some fun here, even if it is under.. these circumstances.”
Bruce is first to talk.
“We’re already having fun, Clint, being together, being a team, having parts of us that are more heavy than others, that doesn’t change things. There can still be laughter even if it feels dark.”
“Yeah,” Tony agrees. “I mean look at us.”
“Fossil.”
“Green man.”
“Metal man.”
Clint can’t help but smile.
“Yeah,” he replies.
“I guess we’re all a little fucked, right?”
Tony laughs.
“I’ll drink to that.”
.
She’s still awake as he slithers into bed, breath toothpaste fresh as she curls into him.
“Did they find their way to their beds?” she whispers.
He doesn’t even ask her why she’s still up. He doesn’t have to.
“Yeah,” he laughs, “Tony and Steve aren’t so happy they’re bunking together.”
She smiles in the dark.
“It’s late Nat,” Clint states, the clock reading 3am.
“You’re one to talk.”
“Did they ask about her?”
“Jace?”
“No, but I think Tony has an update for you.”
“Okay, I have one for him too.”
She closes her eyes, breath slow.
“He said he put Liho on a lead.”
Clint laughs.
“How did that go?”
She smiles, eyes still closed imagining Liho hating every moment.
“Apparently not bad.”
The silence doesn’t last long.
“Not tired?”
Natasha takes a deep breath.
“I think it just feels peaceful, and I don’t know what to do with that. I want to live in it whilst it’s here.”
She hears him huff out a breath.
“You can rest now?”
Natasha hugs him close, kissing the bottom of his chin and rests her head on his chest.
“Yeah,” she breathes.
“I can rest.”
.