Chapter 1
“If you guys aren’t down here in ten seconds, I’m going to have to eat all of these cinnamon rolls by myself!”
Natasha patiently awaits the desperate scramble of the Barton children as they race to the kitchen table.
Cooper makes it there first, having the longest legs, but his sister is right behind him, shoving him out of the way to grin sheepishly at Natasha. Nate toddles in last, his hair a mess.
“It’s not our fault Nate takes forever in the bathroom,” Lila says, taking a seat. “I told him he should practice his morning routine before school starts, but he didn’t listen.”
“I didn’t take forever,” Nate says defensively, sticking his tongue out at his sister.
“Yeah, you took even longer,” Cooper points out to Lila, pointing his fork at her. “Why would you straighten your hair on the first day of school? The heat and humidity are just going to undo what you took almost an hour–“
“Alright, alright, stop arguing,” Natasha cuts in, giving all three of them a stern look. “Come on, hurry and eat breakfast before it gets cold.”
“And then you take us to school, Auntie Nat?” Nate asks excitedly, his mouth full of cinnamon roll.
“Chew with your mouth closed, bud,” Cooper tells him.
“You’re going to brush your teeth and fix your hair, and then I’m taking you to school,” Natasha corrects, ruffling Nate’s hair. “And then I can finally have the house all to myself!”
The three kids laugh. They all know if Natasha could have her way, they would stay home with her all day.
Lila finishes chewing her bite and gazes out the window. “I wish Mom and Dad were here,” she says quietly. “They’ve never missed a first day before.”
Natasha sighs to herself. She knew making a tasty breakfast wasn’t going to mask the fact that the kids’ parents weren’t going to be there for the first day of school, especially Nate’s first day of pre-school.
Laura and Clint had gone on a retreat to work out some of their issues, both with each other and themselves. Laura was still having trouble coming to grips with the fact that her husband murdered hundreds of people. She was also dealing with the psychological toll of being dead and then alive again; Natasha could relate to that. Clint, meanwhile, had also been feeling tremendous amounts of guilt over what he’d done, and had convinced himself that he needed to leave his family, scared of what he was capable of. Eventually, Natasha had gotten tired of seeing them fight, and sent them off to California to work it out.
“They’ll be back before you know it,” Natasha assures Lila.
“And they’ll be nicer, too,” Cooper chimes in. “Well, hopefully. They were fighting a lot before they left and they were always yelling at us.”
“Yeah, but I’d rather have them here and mean than there and nice,” Lila argues.
Natasha looks at her curiously. “Really?”
Lila tucks her hair behind her ear, fidgeting. “Okay, well, probably not. Mom was always yelling at us for dumb stuff. But they’ve been gone for almost three weeks! What does it take to get better?”
“Whatever it takes,” Natasha answers, giving her a soft smile. She takes a deep breath. “Guys, I know two weeks feels like a long time, but imagine five years. Your dad had a really hard time losing you guys, and it changed him. So he has to take some time to heal himself, okay?”
Lila and Cooper nod. Nate gives Natasha a toothy grin, icing dribbling down his chin.
Natasha chuckles. “Alright, hurry up and go brush your teeth. I don’t want you guys to be late on your first day.”
They each put their dishes in the sink before running upstairs to fight over the bathroom. Natasha begins loading the dishwasher when her phone rings.
Before she can say anything other than “Hello,” Laura sobs on the other end.
“Nat, I hate this,” she wails. “I hate it so much. I hate this damn humidity, I hate the yoga class they’re making us take, I hate the ugly fucking blue walls, and don’t even get me started on Clint’s fucking tattoo–“
“Hey, hey, calm down,” Natasha cuts in. She turns to make sure none of the kids are downstairs yet. “What happened? You seemed like you really liked it yesterday.”
“God, I did,” Laura groans, sniffling. “It’s all just getting to me now. I don’t know if was actually enjoying this or if I was just tolerating it. But either way, I’m sick of it now. I’m just calling to let you know we’re coming back today. I’m going to book a flight after this call.”
Natasha chews on her lip, silent for a moment. She knows that Laura is expecting her to argue and insist that she and Clint stay, that deep down that’s probably what Laura wants to do – but would it really be the worst thing in the world if they came home early? Every day at the retreat is more money wasted, and the kids miss them, and Natasha really misses her own bed in her apartment.
“Okay,” she finally says. “If that’s what you think is best. Do you want me to drive the kids around for a bit after I pick them up so you guys can get home and surprise them here?”
“I was thinking I’d surprise them and pick them up from school, actually,” Laura suggests. Natasha doesn’t miss the singular pronoun she uses, failing to include Clint. “So you can just hang out at the house or whatever you want to do instead if you want to stay for dinner. But if you want to go back home, I totally understand that too. You’ve been with them for a few weeks; they’re probably driving you m–“
“Laura, really, it’s fine,” Natasha cuts in, watching as the three Barton children race out the front door to the car. “I’ll join you guys for dinner. I want to hear about their first day. I’ll see you later.”
“Love you, Nat. You’re a saint. Bye.”
She doesn’t even give Natasha time to argue that she’s anything but.
~
Natasha obnoxiously slurps her iced tea until no more liquid comes up through the straw. She makes a show out of clearing her small appetizer plate and moving it to the side of the table before rummaging around in her purse for her lipstick. After applying, she pulls out a small compact mirror and studies her reflection. She looks carefree, aloof, and dangerous – exactly what she was aiming for.
“Natasha, come on, look at me,” Coulson pleads from across the table. “We haven’t spoken at all yet. Our waiter’s going to think we’re weird when she comes back to take our orders.”
“I’m sorry, that’s your biggest concern?” Natasha snaps, dropping her purse by her feet. She lowers her voice and looks up at him, not masking the betrayed expression on her face. “The only reason I know about your many near-death encounters is because I’m a damn good spy. It would’ve made my life a hell of a lot easier if you had sent me a text once in awhile to update me.”
Coulson sighs, drumming his fingers on the table. “I know. I’m sorry,” he says, looking contrite. “I was going to tell you and Clint, I swear. But then I got really sick, from Odium, and then...the snap and the blip, or whatever the news is calling it these days, happened, and I was snapped away, and I guess that was worse than whatever the Odium was doing, and I came back five years later...” He trails off and gives her a sad smile. “I’m guessing you know all that already.”
“And more,” Natasha retorts dryly, crossing her arms. She sighs, her expression softening. “I could really use your help, you know. It was hard enough keeping track of everything and everyone after the snap, but now that everyone’s come back...” She shakes her head and smirks at him. “Sometimes death seems like the better option.”
“You sound like Fury,” Coulson tells her, grinning. “You can take over for him when he retires.”
“Is he even working?” Natasha questions. “He told me he had something to do in space. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but I figured it best not to ask.”
The two sit in silence for a few moments. After the waiter comes to take their orders, Natasha studies Coulson curiously. Ever since he “died” to the rest of the world in 2012, he hadn’t met with her in public settings much; their meetings were usually confined to secret boardrooms, old safehouses, and the Bartons’ living room.
Coulson eventually looks up and meets her gaze. His relaxed expression sobers, and Natasha knows he knows what she’s asking without saying anything at all. Reading each other like that had to become second nature when they were working with each other.
“Nearly 3.8 billion people died when Thanos snapped his fingers,” he says, in a tone that’s businesslike yet nonchalant and so Phil it makes Natasha’s heart clench. “So, by that logic, when Banner snapped his fingers, 3.8 billion people should have come back in the Blip.”
“Right,” Natasha agrees, furrowing her eyebrows. The Blip happened nearly a year ago, but world governments were taking longer than Natasha cared for to get everything back in order. “Did not everyone who came back get accounted for? 3.8 hasn’t been reached?”
Coulson shakes his head. “The opposite, actually,” he says. “We saw an unprecedented rise in population from all over the world. Nearly 5 billion people who weren’t there during those five years are here now.”
Natasha inhales sharply. “How is that possible? Where did they come from?” She suddenly thinks about her fairly recent adventure, which Coulson no doubt heard about. “Don’t tell me they’re from an alternate universe. And especially don’t tell me it’s because of me and Tony.”
Coulson chuckles. “If anything, that would be an ideal situation compared to this.” The waiter comes by with their food, and the two quickly switch topics to the Barton children, before the waiter walks away. “No. No alternate selves or doppelgängers or anything of the sort. We actually got a lot of the additional people’s names and information.”
Natasha raises an eyebrow and takes a bite of her risotto. “Oh? Do tell.”
Coulson swallows thickly. Natasha tenses; this is the most unsure she’s seen him since Loki had brainwashed Clint.
“It seems that the additional people,” he says quietly, “had already died. Records indicated a birth and death date for all of them. We did some digging, and it all checked out. Somehow they all came back to life.” He meets Natasha’s wide eyes. “Did Thor ever tell you about his older sister?”
~
Natasha silently stands still, aware that her presence is sensed. It will be acknowledged when the time is right.
That time comes exactly seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds later. Clint sighs, stretches his back, and turns to face her, the lines on his face more evident today.
“You could’ve gone in the house,” he says tiredly, waving his hand around at the porch they’re on. “I knew you were there.”
“I know you knew,” Natasha evenly replies, walking over to him. She stands at his side and looks out at the land in front of them. “Kind of rude to leave your guests unaccompanied in your house, though.”
Clint snorts and shoves her shoulder lightly. Natasha’s lips quirk up in a brief, rare smile, before they frown. “So. You didn’t want to pick up your own children from their first day of school?”
Clint exhales sharply and shakes his head. “Don’t...don’t you do that, too, Nat. I can’t take that condescending bullshit from you. You know why I can’t.”
“I do,” Natasha offers. “That’s also why you and your wife spent thousands of Tony’s dollars to go to a retreat to fix this.” She keeps her tone more even this time, simply stating a fact, rather than inflicting judgment, no matter how badly she may want to. She knows that’s not going to get him to talk to her.
Clint rests his hands on the porch railing, leaning heavily on it, as if it’s the only thing keeping him upright. “Yeah, well. I think Stark’ll be alright.”
“It’s not about the money and you know it,” Natasha snaps. “Your wife and your kids need you. You don’t get to pick and choose when you’re there for them.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Clint demands, whirling on her. His eyes are watering and his lip is quivering, and Natasha knows this is the most vulnerable he’s let anyone seen of him in the last five years. “Laura flinches sometimes, when I drop something and curse, or if I move too fast. She tries to be subtle about it, but I see it. The kids, too. Cooper and Lila can’t even look me in the eye without staring at my tattoo first–”
“It is pretty ugly,” Natasha cuts in. “I didn’t come here to hear your excuses. I just needed to tell you to get your shit together.”
Clint raises an eyebrow. “You came all the way back out here just for that?”
“And to tell you I might be gone for a little,” Natasha says seriously, looking up at him to gauge his reaction.
At first, Clint looks surprised that she’d take on another mission so soon after literally returning from another dimension. But his shoulders slouch, and he gives her an approving smile.
“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t continue to save the world,” he comments. “You need any help?” His tone is joking, but Natasha recognizes the underlying sincerity, the hidden need to feel useful and do some good.
She wishes more than anything that she could provide that for her best friend, but his family needs him more than he needs those feelings.
“I do, but not from you,” she answers, winking. “I’ll be holding auditions this week if you have any references.”
“You could give Sam a run for his money,” Clint suggests. “Make him work for that shield.”
Natasha shakes her head. On the drive over from lunch with Coulson, she’d already been thinking about who to go to next, and Sam had been high up on her list. After all, they’d gone on the run together for two years. But that had been seven years ago, and even though he was taking Steve’s mantle now, he’d still been gone for five years. Natasha could only imagine the psychological implications of that; he wouldn’t be ready for this.
Natasha tells Clint this. “Plus,” she adds as an afterthought, “he’s probably with Barnes.”
Clint purses his lips. “Right.”
The two are silent for a moment.
“Well, I’d say ask Fury for suggestions, but last I heard, he was about to go to space for some R & R, wherever and whatever that actually means,” Clint muses. He checks his watch. “Laura should be home with the kids in less than an hour. She just left a little bit ago. You want to wait for them?”
Natasha rubs his shoulder affectionately, knowing he already knows what she’s about to say. “Give them my love. I have to get going.”
She turns and begins walking away from the house.
“Hey, you left all your shit here!” Clint calls. “If I don’t hear from you for a month I’m throwing it all out!”
“Don’t think you’d have the guts to do it,” Natasha shouts back without turning around, unable to keep the smirk off her face.
“Hey,” Clint says again. His tone makes Natasha falter in her steps and turn to face him. His expression is serious, his eyes almost pleading with her. “If this ends up going south, and you have to make the sacrifice play—” He holds up his hand when Natasha starts to protest. “Just think about the rest of us, okay? Think about me.”
She gives him a smirk. “Dumbass. I always do.”
~
Natasha rapidly types on her laptop, her eyes scanning over the multiple tabs she has open. She huffs in frustration, not being able to find what she’s looking for.
She’s about to open a new tab and start a new search when half of the screen blacks out to make room for an incoming call she’s getting from Tony.
Natasha seriously considers declining, but she knows that Tony would somehow just hack her until he got to speak with her, so she reluctantly clicks to answer the call.
“Hi, Stark,” she says dryly. “Is there—”
“What the hell are you up to?” Tony interrupts, raising an eyebrow. He holds up a hand before Natasha can answer. “Don’t give me any bullshit. Now that I have my boy back, Jarvis alerts me when there’s any potential otherworldly threats being researched, especially on one of my custom computers and firewalls. You, little missy, seem to be looking into something you’re not supposed to be.”
“That’s very…Patriot Act of you,” Natasha says slowly, a bit taken aback. “And you may want to update Jarvis on what’s considered otherworldly threats. I’m trying to find Thor.”
“Th—Thor. You couldn’t have just—okay,” Tony sighs, as if Natasha is a child who can’t be yelled at because they don’t know what they were doing is wrong. “Maybe I can help. Do you just need to locate him, or—”
“I need to get in contact with him,” Natasha tells him. When Tony doesn’t respond, she adds, “The fate of our planet could depend on it. I need to see him ASAP.”
Tony adjusts whatever device he’s talking to her on, and Natasha can see behind him part of his house. “Alright. Let me look into some heat signatures and satellites I’ve got. Is this just a personal super-secret mission, or—”
“I’m not bringing you into this, Tony,” Natasha deadpans. When he begins to argue, she stares pointedly at a picture of him, Pepper, and Morgan that’s hanging on the wall behind him. He turns, sees the picture, and dejectedly sighs.
“Okay,” he concedes. “I’ll see what I can find and send you whatever I do. You still at la casa de Barton?”
“Estoy en mi propio departamento,” Natasha replies, smirking when Tony blinks to think about what she’s said. She hangs up the call and closes the multiple tabs on her computer.
A few minutes later, the screen alerts her to a new email from Tony. She opens it up. There are a few fuzzy pictures of a figure in the sky that people have sent in, but Tony added his own comments that he couldn’t be sure if it was him. The last thing in the email was some coordinates of promising locations based on energy signatures that matched Thor’s.
Natasha clicks the most recent one. She bites her lip for a moment, considering her options, before deciding she’ll sacrifice her pride and call Tony back.
“Oh, long time no see!” he greets. “W—”
“Cut the shit, Stark,” Natasha interrupts. “I need a plane.”
~
Natalia respectfully clasps her hands behind her back. If one were to look at her, they might think she was calm and collected, at ease while watching her peers play.
They would be wrong.
Inside, Natalia is itching to join the game, knowing that she can be a strong advantage for whichever team she’s placed on. She glances up at Madame B next to her again, but Madame B seems completely immersed in studying the girls play, Natalia seemingly forgotten.
Natalia turns her attention to the game again. They’re playing capture the flag today. At first some of the girls had been skeptical about this game when it had been introduced to them years ago, partly because they’d only ever seen boys play it and partly because it was thought to have originated in America, but it had quickly become one of Natalia’s favorite games. She was fast, and could help tag the other team when they crossed to her side or go get the flag herself, and smart. She saw every move that every girl made, and knew what they were going to do before they did it.
“If you were on Katya’s team,” Madame B suddenly says, “what would you do?”
Natalia faces Katya’s team. She has an answer already prepared. “Katya and Jessica are both fast already. I would let them try and go get the flag and stay back to enforce their defense, which is weak. Margaret is on the other team and is one of their fastest ones, so I’d mainly be looking out for her and Brielle, because she follows Margaret.”
Madame B nods approvingly. “What of the other girls?”
“Katya is too focused on trying to get the flag to worry about getting the rest of her team back in,” Natasha muses, watching them play. “Jessica always tries to rescue Brianna, so if she does, that will leave Katya alone, and Margaret could get her out. Yelena is out right now, but if someone gets her back in, she will be competing with Margaret to try and get the flag and their team’s approval.”
“Will either one of them capture it?”
“Probably not,” Natalia admits. “Thalia isn’t bad on defense and would see two people coming and could call for more help. I think Katya’s team will win this game.”
“I think so, too,” Madame B agrees, and Natalia’s heart flutters at the praise. She knows she’s not supposed to feel such emotion, but sometimes it’s hard not to.
“Could I assist the opposing team, then?” she asks Madame B.
Madame B shakes her head. “You already know the outcome, Natalia,” she says. “You are the fastest of all of the girls and have just proven to me you are the most perceptive. This will come in handy when making mission and battle strategies. This game is not for fun. It’s to work on skills necessary for future missions.”
“Of course,” Natalia quickly agrees, chastising herself for asking. “My apologies.”
Madame B takes a deep breath and watches the girls continue play. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Katya sneaks past the opposing team’s defensive players and snatches the flag off the ground, sprinting back to her team’s side where she’s greeted by cheers and hugs.
Natalia watches Margaret’s team half-heartedly congratulate Katya’s team. She flexes her arms, knowing she could have helped them if she’d played. Yelena is standing, brushing the grass off of her shorts, looking quite unhappy that no one had ran to her to get her back in.
Madame B regards Natalia. “You would have been a fine addition to the losing team and made them more competitive,” she says. “But there are some times where the place you’re needed at is not the place you want to be.”
“I just wanted to play,” Natalia tells her. “I didn’t have a preference for where I’d be.”
“Oh, you did,” Madame B counters, beginning to walk toward the rest of the girls. “You wanted to be where you could be the most helpful. You wanted to be the best. You want to be at the top.”
“Is that so bad?”
“It’s not,” Madame B assures her. “But just know, being the best often comes at a price.”
~
Natasha buries her hands deeper in the pockets of her jacket. She tries to shake the feeling that something isn’t right, but fails. Tony wouldn’t let her into a trap knowingly, but if he didn’t know...
A bus whizzes past Natasha, honking loudly. She jumps back up onto the sidewalk and shakily laughs. Get it together, Romanoff.
“These Midgardian inventions. Ugly, but dangerous.”
Natasha slowly turns around and raises an eyebrow, resisting the urge to fight. “It sounds like you’ve had firsthand experience in that arena.”
Loki grins at her. “Well, I’ve had a little bit of time to learn.”
“A little bit,” Natasha echoes incredulously. “It’s been months since we got back. I thought you would’ve been off this planet the second Thor took his eyes off you.”
“And where would he have looked instead?” Loki asks curiously. “When I came back he canceled whatever plans he had with those moronic clodhoppers—”
“Quill’s team?” Natasha interjects.
“—and decided he would spend every possible moment with me, his long-lost and very much alive brother,” Loki finishes, his tone sarcastically happy.
“Where is he now?” Natasha asks, raising her chin. “I need to speak with him.”
Loki studies Natasha. She straightens her back under his scrutinizing gaze and looks him over. He actually looks a little tanner since she last saw him, indicating time spent in the sun, and his hair looks healthy, thick and wavy, unlike the straight, greasy mess it had been previously. Whatever Loki’s been doing, he’s been taking care of himself.
Not that Natasha is concerned about him. She just likes to keep tabs on people she’s been in alternate dimensions with.
“You seem tired,” he concludes.
“I was babysitting the Barton children for the last couple of weeks,” she replies, not missing a beat. “What can I say? Kids are tiring.”
Loki scoffs. Natasha’s about to argue with him when Thor exits the apartment building behind them, looking wildly around before focusing on Loki.
“Loki! I told you to wait while I showered!” he growls, marching over to him. He’s about to continue when he notices Natasha standing beside him. “Natasha! What a wonderful surprise!”
Thor wraps her in a bear hug, and Natasha holds her own, considering it a victory when she’s sure she won’t bruise. Thor’s lost some weight and built back muscle since she’s last seen him. Maybe she needs to be hanging out with the Asgardians more instead of eating cinnamon rolls with the Bartons.
“I hope I’m not ruining your plans for the day,” Natasha tells him. “Although I can’t imagine there’s a lot to get up to in Solvang, California.”
“Thor liked the architecture,” Loki explains, his tone indicating he didn’t care much for the town.
“It’s quaint,” Thor says, grinning. “And no, we were actually just going to go to the farmer’s market. How can we help you?”
Natasha lowers her voice even though there’s no one else on the street. “I need to talk to you about your sister. Hela?”
Thor’s sunny demeanor instantly changes. His face darkens, and his smile morphs into an angry scowl. He clenches and unclenches his fists, his breathing becoming heavy. In accordance with his mood, dark gray clouds quickly roll in, and thunder rumbles in the distance.
“Brother—” Loki says warningly, placing a hand on Thor’s shoulder.
Thor swats his hand off and glares down at Natasha, taking a step forward menacingly, invading her personal space. Natasha doesn’t let her fear show. She’s never been threatened by Thor personally before, and she knows that this is a battle she would lose.
“You dare come to this haven,” he grits out, staring into her eyes, “and bring that name here? The memories and the deaths that it carries?”
“It’s carrying more than you think,” Natasha says evenly, her head turned up to look at him. She wonders if they can hear her heart thumping loudly in her chest. “We’ve reason to believe she’s not dead, and is fucking with the world population as we speak.”
Thor frowns disbelievingly. He takes a step back and points at Natasha accusingly. “If you’re lying,” he threatens, “you will never—”
“Brother,” Loki sharply cuts in, standing between Thor and Natasha. “Let’s hear what she has to say. If she’s right…”
Thor and Loki have a wordless conversation, hundreds of years of brotherhood evident in the way their eyes speak to each other silently. Natasha patiently waits, knowing they won’t be able to resist what she has to say.
Thor eventually looks at Natasha again, a sheepish expression on his face. “My apologies, Natasha,” he says. “You can come in and we’ll eat and discuss. There’s just a lot of—”
“You don’t need to explain it to me,” Natasha assures him. “I understand.”
“Wonderful,” Thor replies. He claps his hand together and gestures toward the apartment. “So. Does IPA sound good to everyone?”