Chapter 1
Natasha Romanoff was tired of running. Coming to New York had been a dumbass move, there was no doubt about it. For a few weeks now she had been trying to track down Steve Rogers, and it appeared that he had made a stop at his Brooklyn apartment before he went on the run for good. She had long ago figured out that he was with Sam Wilson, as he hadn’t been seen either.
All the evidence she could find indicated that Steve had left his apartment for the last time only days after the Raft breakout, meaning she was several months late. Brilliant. She would have come earlier, except she had been wary about heading to New York when Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross was still hellbent on capturing her. Plus, practically everyone in the world knew her name and face and believed her to be an enemy. She had hoped that maybe the excitement around her had died down, but she quickly realized that the secretary would never stop looking for her.
It almost amused her, because this was the most attention she’d ever gotten from the world as a whole. Sure, back in her Red Room days she had been an infamous assassin, at least to the secretive world of government spy agencies. Your average civilian probably wouldn’t have heard of her, or maybe thought her to be a myth, similar to the Winter Soldier back in his prime.
Her joining of the Avengers had, of course, brought her an immense amount of publicity and attention. But even then, the legendary names of Tony Stark and Steve Rogers vastly overshadowed hers. Thor brought his own air of mystery, and Bruce was an incredible scientist. Though to be honest, Banner’s big claim to fame was that he turned into a giant green monster who smashed bad guys, which people loved, at least until he was smashing their own city. Either way, he was constantly in the spotlight. Clint, of course, was from S.H.I.E.L.D. and not very well known, same as her, but had managed to build up quite a fan base through social media and being the loveable, relatable dumbass of the group.
Natasha, though, stayed as far away from the cameras as possible, and only went on social media under fake names to troll people on the internet. In fact, she prided herself on her ability to make Minecraft players rage quit in a matter of minutes.
But that wasn’t the point. The point was, she had no place in the Avengers, and nobody had paid her much attention in years, which she had been perfectly fine with. Less problems for her. But now, not only was she in the limelight, but it was because she was supposedly trying to blow up the entire world, crown herself queen of the universe, torture all government officials, and generally cause chaos. Or something along those lines.
She knew she was being followed, had been for the past half hour. She tried to walk with no obvious purpose or destination, to blend in with the crowd. She walked with a slight hunch, instead of the confident strut with which she usually carried herself. Keeping her head down on the streets was no stranger to her, and she was deservedly assured in her ability to stay hidden.
But Ross’s men had clearly been patrolling the streets regularly, and were always suspicious of a redhead. Well, her hair wasn’t her natural red, as it had been last time the world had seen her—it was much darker, and straight instead of wavy, tied back in a pony tail that fell several inches below her shoulders. She had put blue contacts in, but that wasn’t much help from a distance. Wire-rimmed glasses sat comfortably on her nose, and, after a close examination of her disguise, Natasha had concluded that she looked like a middle-aged school librarian.
It was late in the cold autumn evening, and dark. But this was New York, so the light from the red and white lights of the cars, warmly lit street lamps, and windows of the tall buildings that lined the streets shined her way well. Really, she reasoned, it was never dark in New York.
To be more specific, she was in the city of Queens, in the state of New York. Nonetheless, the sidewalks were plenty crowded, and the streets full of honking taxis and jaywalking pedestrians. She glanced briefly behind her, and saw the two big, bulky men about a block behind, and then the two others across the street.
As Natasha stared straight ahead of her, she spotted three more heading towards her. They were new. Clearly, she wasn’t going to be able to sneak away from this one. She could at least bring the fight somewhere where civilians wouldn’t get harmed, in case bullets started flying.
She took a moment to reflect on how much she had changed in the past few years. At S.H.I.E.L.D., civilian casualties were an unfortunate but regular occurrence. Director Nick Fury’s top priority was always to kill the bad guys, and if a few unlucky bystanders died that sucked for them. After years of killing people with absolutely zero qualms, Natasha had kept a similar mindset under Fury. But with the Avengers, civilians were always the number one priority. Their own safety was second. Natasha had at first disliked the idea, but quickly realized how much more satisfaction came out of saving everybody. It definitely made her more likeable. The Avengers really had changed her. Made her a better person. Ew.
Her mind raced. She didn’t have much time, so where could she go? A small park was to her left, so she decided to head in that. Hopefully not many people would be hanging around there at this hour, though she knew she couldn’t count on it. She could sense Ross’s men following her, so she quickened her pace to a brisk march.
She needed to get there quick, or else they were going to catch her in the street. She unzipped her black leather jacket that she had kept ever since she had left Tony staring out past the balcony at Avengers Compound. On that fateful day, after the airport fight. Again, it was probably not a good idea to wear something that Ross knew she had, but this was her favorite jacket. Besides, it wasn’t like it was bright and obvious. It was actually pretty inconspicuous, especially in the darker hours of the evening. Plenty of people wore black jackets. Not unusual in any way. It wasn’t like she could just stroll into a store and buy a new jacket right now anyway.
But whatever. Her clothes weren’t important now. She kept her pace up, easily sidestepping hurrying civilians. She was careful to make periodic glances over her shoulder to check on her pursuers. They were closing in, but thankfully she was nearing the park.
She looked down at her wrists, and activated her Widow’s Bites. In a few moments, they would be charged and ready to go. These had been specially designed by Tony, after he had assessed her original model, and declared them “decent.” After a few days of the silent treatment, Natasha had grudgingly allowed the billionaire to make some upgrades. Or, as he put it, “Starkify” it.
Suddenly, a shout rang out from one of the guys following her. “Hey!” he yelled. “You! Stop right there, and show me your ID!”
Natasha immediately sprinted for the park, zigzagging to avoid the inevitable spray of bullets. She quickly hopped the fence, just in time, because she heard the crack of a gunshot, and the whiz of a bullet just over her shoulder. She breathed a sigh of relief as she darted for cover, jerking her hidden pistol out of her open jacket.
She hoped that she wouldn't have to use it. Beating up Ross’s men was one thing. Killing them was another. She really didn’t feel like being charged with manslaughter today. It wasn’t even on her to-do list (She never stuck to her to-do list; its main purpose was an excuse not to do something she found inconvenient). She went into the forest area, letting the trees envelope her in darkness.
Natasha saw the light from flashlights sitting atop the thug’s guns shining all around. They swept just past her, and she caught a glimpse of the man. Enough to get a good shot off. She ran forward, firing her Widow’s Bite at him. The taser missed his abdomen, and hit his legs, but he still fell, quivering, with a thud. She ran past him, but she could feel the other men closing in on her location. She counted six more of them, surrounding her in a circle.
“Put your weapons down!” one of them yelled. “You’re under arrest!”
Natasha swallowed, then lashed out at him, dodging the others’ reaction fire. She punched him in the face, knocking him over, then kicked his knee, putting him down for hopefully a few moments.
She hid with her back up against a tree in order to catch her breath. She reached to her ear, and pulled off her wire-rimmed glasses, then tossed them to the ground. Her disguise was pointless now, and they would only get in her way.
After a moment, Natasha tasered another man with her Bite from her cover behind the tree. It hit his arm, and he cried out, dropping his gun. She ran, and disarmed two more with kicks to their wrists. She then punched the next two in the face, and they both fell, one of them definitely with a broken nose.
She took a quick count. Two of the original seven she got with her Widow’s Bite. They would be okay in a few moments. One was the man who yelled at her. Also recovering. The two she just punched would be incapacitated for just a precious few moments. That gave her only a short amount of time to deal with two men she disarmed.
She dodged the first’s wild punch, and socked him in the jaw. He went down, and she stomped on his stomach, leaping off to jump over the other. She grabbed his shoulders, and brought him hard, face-first, to the ground. He groaned, turning over onto his back, and she stomped hard on his face, and felt the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking under her boot.
Natasha was ready as the last three previously-tasered thugs ran at her. She conked the first on the head with her pistol, then sent a kick that caught him in the ribs. He dropped to his knees, wheezing. She jumped up, wrapping her thighs around the next one’s neck. He tried to buck her off, but she stayed steady, using her Widow’s bites to taser him in the neck.
As he fell, she tumbled gracefully off his shoulders, hopping lightly to her toes in time to punch the last guy in the face. He recovered, though, and her head jerked back as he got in a sharp elbow to her jaw that would definitely leave a bruise.
She lowered herself to the ground, and kicked his legs out from under him, then aimed one last kick to his head. The first one was still conscious, and on his knees, so she punched him hard in the face. He fell backwards, hitting the back of his head on a rock with a loud thunk.
No time to relax. She spun around as the final two men ran at her, tasering them both in the stomach with her Bites. She grabbed one of them by the hair, and bashed his face into her knee. He slumped to the ground. The next she grabbed by the collar of his shirt, and slammed him into a tree. When she let go of him, he sagged, bleeding and unconscious, to the ground.
She looked around the clearing. Not one of Ross’s men was left standing. But none of them dead, either. Natasha’s hair was messy, her jacket and jeans stained with dirt and a decent amount of blood. It was too dark for anyone not looking closely to notice, but she had to get somewhere else, and fast. She returned her pistol to her jacket, and headed back onto the streets, attempting to untangle her hair as she went.
A few minutes later, Natasha walked down a nearly-empty alley, keeping her head down. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but definitely away from the scene she left in the park. No need to be associated with the many government agents now lying on the ground, either unconscious or groaning in pain.
Suddenly, a movement across the street caught her eye. She slowed, but didn’t stop, keeping the black-clad group in the corner of her eye.
There were five of them, wearing black plastic masks, blank except for small eyeholes. She watched as the first one opened the door to a 7-Eleven, and they ran in, pulling pistols out of their pockets.
“Shit,” she mumbled. Should she help? Probably, but all the same, she didn’t want to draw more attention to herself. And she was already bruised and battered from her fight with Ross’s men. Then she heard a sharp cry, and her instincts kicked in. She sprinted across the dark road, and burst into the 7-Eleven, drawing her gun from her jacket.
One of the thugs had the cashier at gunpoint. The young man had his hands up, and was backing fearfully against the wall. The four other men were rifling eagerly through the boxes of money, stuffing it into a bag.
Natasha went for the first gunman. He turned around as she burst in, and he fired wildly. She kicked the gun out of his hand, and elbowed him in the face. She then kicked him in the back of the knees, making them buckle. She took the chance to thrust his head into the counter.
By then, the four other robbers had caught on, and were picking their guns up from the floor, the money forgotten for the moment. Natasha leapt over the counter, spilling bags of chips all over the floor. “Get the hell out of here!” she yelled to the cashier.
She started by wrapping her legs around one of the robbers neck, and dragging him into his partner, knocking them both to the floor, and smashing several bags of Doritos. She threw her pistol at the forehead of a third man, momentarily taking him out of action.
But before she could deal with the fourth, the first two were standing up. She kneed the first in the gut repeatedly, then dropped him, jumping behind the second. She grabbed his collar, using him as a shield just in time to block the fourth gunman’s rapid fire. He sagged to the ground, and suddenly she was defenseless. She hadn’t even recharged her Widow’s Bites. What an idiot she was.
She quickly jumped back over the counter, dodging his next few shots. The cashier was long gone, to who knew where. She ran through the isle, bullets whizzing all around her. The robber only chased her, firing randomly. She headed back to the front, firing up her Widow’s Bites, when suddenly her foot caught on something.
She looked down, and the very first guy had grabbed her foot. Before she could react properly, the man yanked her leg out from under her, pulling her down, face first. Her already-bruised jaw banged hard against the floor, sending a jolt of white-hot pain through her body. She winced, and started to get up, but the gunman was getting closer, his gun pointed straight between her eyes.
What an embarrassing way to go.
Natasha waited for the inevitable gunshot. But it didn’t come. Instead, something shot through the window, and suddenly the thug’s gun was caught in some sort of white, shiny mesh. It got yanked out of his hand, and Natasha whipped her head around to find the source of the web.
There, holding the gun in his hand, was a masked figure, dressed in red and blue spandex. Natasha internally groaned. Stark’s kid, the one from the airport, and the news, too, a little while ago. Something about a vulture. Anyway, she really didn’t want him, and by extension, Tony, to know that she was here. That would only cause massive amounts of trouble she didn’t want to deal with.
Spider-Man tossed the gun away, shouting, “Hey, ugly!” He had shot the web from outside the store, through the broken window, but now he charged in, hopping onto the ceiling. He hung from his feet, and Natasha was too confused and tired to take action. It looked like the spider guy was in control, anyway.
The robber straightened, his chest heaving.
“Whatcha doin’ here, guy?” That sounded like the voice of a kid, Natasha thought.
He continued, “Your mask isn’t very stylish, y’know.”
The man aimed a punch for Spider-Man’s head, but he dodged it easily. “I mean, they’re okay, but not like, cover of Vogue level.” He dodged several more punches, then scampered across the ceiling, drawing the man away from Natasha.
“Do you like glitter? I think glitter would add some much-needed… sparkle. Catch the attention of the police, you know?”
The thug growled, and made a grab for Spider-Man’s head. The spandex-clad figure just flipped onto his chest, slamming him into the floor, which dented slightly. Robbery taken care of. “Good night!” said the kid cheerfully.
Natasha pushed herself wearily to her feet, wishing she could just get out of there. But Spider-Man walked up to her, surveying the mess she made.
“Who are you?” he asked, clearly confused despite his features being masked.
Natasha shrugged unhelpfully. She wasn’t escaping any time soon, but she sure didn’t have to cooperate. Spider-Man studied her for a moment, then stepped back in surprise.
“Oh my god, you’re Black Widow!”
He put his hand up to take his mask off, and Natasha watched warily, not sure what to expect. The slightly high-pitched voice, and the playful taunting would suggest almost a child, but Tony would never-
Oh. Apparently, Tony would.
The kid could barely be more than fifteen, with tousled brown hair, hazel eyes, and a broad smile. He was several inches taller than her, though, which brought a small frown of annoyance to her lips. Not that she wasn’t used to it, and not that she didn’t appreciate her small stature at times… But still, she couldn’t deny that she had received enough sarcastic remarks about her height for a lifetime. Plus, from what she had seen so far, this kid seemed to live for sarcastic remarks.
Despite the many fascinating thoughts of height running through her head, a short “Huh,” was all she could manage. She rubbed her jaw, which was turning black and blue after the second hit.
The kid looked at her brightly. “What are you doing here, Ms. Black Widow, ma’am? Mr. Stark said you were on the run, and I’ve been asking Happy how you were doing, but he didn’t know, so I- why are you here? That doesn’t seem like a good idea, you know that guy Ross is after you, right? And he, like, hangs out here a lot. I see him at the compound sometimes, he gets mad at Mr. Stark and then Mr. Stark threatens to blast him into oblivion if he doesn’t leave him the hell alone, his words, not mine, and anyway, the point is, what are you doing here?”
Natasha watched with a bemused expression as Peter gasped for breath.
“I’m in New York for a lot of different reasons, yes, I am on the run, no it was not a good idea to come to New York, yes, I am aware that Ross is after me, and no, I am not doing so good, but thanks for asking.”
The high schooler blushed. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way. Mr. Stark kinda made me an Avenger, not really but kinda. We’re both spiders, y’know? I’ve really wanted to meet you especially, because of the spider thing. And you’re really good at fighting and stuff. I saw you at the airport, wasn’t that awesome? Did you see me take Cap’s shield? It was awesome. I didn’t get to talk to you at all, though, and then you had to leave, but you’re so cool!”
Natasha couldn’t help but crack a smile. For some reason, being told, by an overenthusiastic kid, no less, that she was cool, was a bit heart lifting. “Thanks. It’s too bad we have to meet under these circumstances-”
His eyes widened, and he cut in, “Do you need my help? I can help!”
When he met her sharp gaze, he looked down, mumbling, “Sorry, Ms. Widow, ma’am.”
Natasha’s expression softened, remembering instantly that she often unintentionally cast the death stare on those who interrupted her. “It’s fine, Peter. But I don’t need help, I’m all right.”
Peter looked back up. “Are you sure? ‘Cause, uh, no offense, you look really, um, tired, and um, not really okay at all.”
Natasha smirked. Something about this kid maybe made her a bit more forgiving. Now, if Tony had made that comment… “I’m not really okay, I thought we established that. But anyway, thanks for noticing.”
Peter flushed once more. “But, Ms. Romanoff Black Widow, I can help, y’know? I’ve been asking Tony and Happy, they don’t know where you are, but Tony’s looking for you, you know that? I- I don’t know if he actually wants to help, I think he wants to kind of bring you in, and then try to bargain your way out, or something, but I don’t think you should get turned in, I want to help you!”
Natasha pointed her finger at him. “First off, don’t call me Black Widow. That’s for people I don’t like. My name is Natasha. Second, a way you can help right now is give me a place to crash tonight. Then hopefully I’ll be on my way.”
Ten minutes later, Peter opened the door to his Queens apartment, chewing on small shards of Doritos from a crumpled orange bag. He was no longer wearing his Spider-Man suit, but his big green jacket over a Stark Industries T-shirt, blue jeans, and beat-up gray sneakers. Natasha followed him into his room.
“I don’t think May is home yet,” Peter told her. “She’ll be here soon, though.”
“Who’s that?” Natasha asked cautiously.
Peter led her into his room, and closed the door behind him. He flopped onto his bed, and threw the drawstring bag containing his suit on the floor. “She’s my aunt. She’s awesome.” He noticed her guarded expression, and reassured her, “Don’t worry, she won’t rat you out. I don’t think she likes Mr. Stark all that much anyway.”
Natasha nodded, letting the relief show on her face. “Does she know about… your deal?” She gestures to the bag.
Peter sighed, then nodded. “I didn’t want her to know. But it’s kinda hard to hide it from the person you live with.”
“And she’s okay with it?”
“She doesn’t love it, but she’s okay with it, yeah.” He shrugged.
Natasha sat down in Peter’s chair near his desk inspecting the papers on it. “Calculus, huh?” she asks, picking up his open notebook.
“Yeah.”
Natasha tossed it back on the desk. “Thrilling stuff.”
Peter cracked a smile. But suddenly, he shot to his feet as the creak of the front door sounded throughout the house. Natasha stood up, and followed Peter out of his room, curious.
When they got to the kitchen, they met a brunette woman. She was probably an inch or two taller than Natasha, very pretty, and wearing a warm smile. She was carrying a few bags, and she set them down on the table.
Natasha stayed a good few feet behind Peter, sort of in the shadows. She knew what Peter had said about his aunt not giving her away, but either way, she was intruding on their property. Better to come when called.
“Just went to the store,” May said briskly, looking up to hug Peter. He embraced her, then stepped back, looking over his shoulder at Natasha.
Then May noticed her. She stared at the redhead for a moment, then looked back at Peter, who blushed. Then she looked back at Natasha, who stepped forward awkwardly. There was a long silence.
Then Peter cleared his throat. “Um, May, this is Natasha Romanoff.”
May’s eyes widened for a moment, but she recovered quickly. “I’ve heard about you on the news.”
Natasha nodded shortly. “Yeah, I’ve… yeah.” Why was she getting tongue-tied in front of May? Well, maybe it was because she didn’t want to get Peter in trouble for bringing her here. She was a fugitive, after all, and could put them all in considerable danger.
Peter coughed once more. “Natasha needed a place to crash. She’s been… on the run, I guess, but don’t worry, she’s a good guy. An Avenger, you know. Like how they’re saying Captain America is a criminal when he’s actually a good guy.”
May nodded kindly. “Of course, so you offered her a place to stay. Why am I not surprised? Well, of course you can crash here, Ms. Romanoff.”
Natasha let a small smile slide onto her face. “Thank you so much. And you can call me Natasha.”
“Of course, Natasha. Now, for dinner we have pasta and meatballs. Would you like that?”
Natasha beamed. “I would love that.”
“Wonderful. I’ll have it ready in half an hour. Peter, why don’t you entertain our guest for a little while?”
Peter nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah.” He turned to Natasha, and volunteered, “Do you like video games?”
“I love them.”
Peter led her back to his room, saying, “I have Star Wars: Battlefront, if you want to do that.” He closed his door behind her.
Natasha sat back down in his chair. “Sure. I might be a little bit rusty, though. Being on the run doesn’t leave time for video games.”
Peter smirked. “Great. That means I’ll win.”
Half an hour later, May called them back into the small dining room. Natasha took a brief moment to marvel at the nicely set table, and the three plates of food. She hadn’t been starving the past few months, but she hadn’t exactly been eating well either.
Peter gestured to a seat. “Go ahead.”
Natasha sat down delicately just as Peter’s aunt walked into the room, carrying her own plate. She and Peter both sat down on either side of the redhead.
“It’s not a five-star restaurant,” May said self-deprecatingly. “But I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will, Ms. Parker.”
“Oh please, call me May, Natasha. I call you by your first name, you call me by mine.”
Natasha nodded politely. “Of course, May.”
May studied Natasha, who didn't appear to be paying much attention to her hosts. Instead, she was happily twirling the long noodles around her fork, copying Peter.
May finally broke the silence. “I take it you haven’t been living lavishly.”
Natasha smirked up at her. “Not exactly.” And she dove into her food without another word.
May smiled fondly. “Well, we’ll fix you up in no time.”
Natasha shoved another forkful of pasta into her mouth.
“This is amazing, May,” she said, her mouth full.
"Oh, thank you so much. I love sharing my food with guests."
“We know, May," Peter said impatiently, rolling his eyes. He turned to Natasha. "So where are you going to go next?”
Natasha shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know. I mean, I could keep trying to find Steve.”
Peter swallowed a meatball, and grinned. “That’s so cool! You know Captain America, that’s awesome! I didn’t really get to talk to him, but is he cool? Did you know that he made, like, PSA videos for school and stuff? Does he actually act like that?”
Natasha smirked. “Yeah, I was the one who suggested those videos, kind of as a joke. But it caught on, and eventually he had no choice. Everyone else forced him into it. But he doesn’t really act like that, no. He’s a little punk most of the time.”
Peter nodded, as if he was filing that piece of information away for later usage. “Huh.”
“Well,” May began, “You can stay here as long as you want. There’s always room for another person.”
Natasha nodded gratefully towards her. “Thank you, but I’ll hopefully be off your hands soon. I have over one hundred countries after me, including this one, and I don’t want to put you and your nephew in danger.”
May waved her hand airily. “As I understand it, we’ll be safer with you around. Especially Peter, with all the crazy stuff he gets into.”
Natasha couldn’t respond, as she was chewing on a meatball, so she just nodded once more. The meatball was a bit burnt, but Natasha didn’t care. This was the best food she’d had in months.