"Jarkata. Out of everywhere, they chose Jakarta." Natasha Romanoff griped to herself as she made her way through the dark streets. It was hot and humid in the Indonesian city and her shirt was sticking to her back. She had already passed by the safe house where Sam and Steve were staying three times. Still, she continued down another three blocks, took a few purposeful wrong turns, and then took some side alleys to get her back to the basement level apartment where her two friends were hiding. Anyone could be tracking her; she couldn't be too careful.
It only took two weeks to find Steve and Sam. Not only was she a trained at tracking, but she had extensive knowledge of Steve's cohorts and acquaintances. It took her a few tries, but she'd finally connected the dots all the way to Jakarta, where Sam and Steve both had a few loose ends. It was somewhere Ross wouldn't think to look. It was perfect.
She stood in front of a rusted metal door set against a brick wall off of a city street. Dumpsters flanked the door on either side, and a stray cat meowed down at her from a nearby ledge. It was more than a few steps down from the cushy Avengers compound that Tony had built for them. Natasha quickly pushed the thought of Tony out of her head. She wondered constantly if he was okay, if he was hurt, if he hated her for leaving him. But she knew that Ross was on her tail and she didn't have much of a choice--she had to run. And if there was one thing Natasha Romanoff was good at, it was running.
After a few precise tweaks with her pocket knife, the lock on the door gave way and she pulled it open. A dark, damp staircase stared back at her. She strapped her knife back into her thigh-holster and traded it for her pistol. Just in case.
She crept down the stairs. At the bottom was another door, this time with even more complicated locks. Natasha huffed and stood up, re-holstering her pistol. She didn't have time to pick apart the locks and booby traps that Sam and Steve had inevitably set up. Besides, the first door was creaky enough to alert them of someone's presence. They were probably waiting for her.
She tapped her name in morse code, the metallic clanging echoing in the passageway. After a moment, she started to hear the clicks of numerous locks being undone. In a flash, the door flung open and a hand pulled her inside quickly, the door slamming shut behind them. Natasha stumbled into what looked like a two-room apartment--1 bath, 1 bedroom, and a small kitchenette where the living room should be. A light flickered dimly above them.
Before she could react, a strong arm again spun her around, this time to pull her into a hug. "What in the hell are you doing here?" Sam said, squeezing his friend tight.
"I could track you in my sleep, Sam," Natasha responded, voice muffled by Sam's shirt. He let her go and smiled down at her. "I'm glad you're here, Nat." Suddenly, his expression grew tight. "Is Tony...?"
Natasha shook her head. "No, he's in New York. He knows that I went to find you, but he doesn't know where I am. At least, I think he doesn't." Sam knew how much Tony meant to Natasha. She'd known him longer than most of them. Leaving him must have been hard, and Sam could see it in her eyes. Quickly, he changed the subject.
"So, welcome to our humble abode. Here is the kitchen/bedroom, and to your left you'll find the bathroom. Can I offer you some food? We have rice and bread. Or bread and rice, if you prefer that," Sam quipped, trying to keep the mood light.
"You know, I know more than a few safe houses in Eastern Europe that would put this to shame. I say we go there next." She said with a grin.
"Oh, so it's we now? You're coming with us?" Sam said with a smile.
"Oh please, you two wouldn't stand a chance without me. I had to come along just to save your sorry asses!" Just then, the two of them heard the low squeak of the alley door.
"Speaking of asses," Sam said as three short knocks, then two quick ones echoed throughout the room. Sam opened the door to a smiling Steve Rogers.
"Look what I got for us--fresh fruit!" Steve said with a smile. He hadn't noticed Natasha, but she noticed him. He was wearing a dark long-sleeved shirt with blue-jeans. He wore a white baseball cap on his head. More noticeably, he wasn't clean-shaven like usual. The extra hair on his chin made him look like a different person; it aged him.
"Did you bring enough for three?" Sam said dramatically, stepping out of the way to reveal their guest. Steve's mouth dropped open a little.
"Nice beard," Natasha said with a smile. A grin began to form on the super-soldier's face. He set down his grocery bag and pulled Natasha into a huge hug. "Hey, Nat," he said into her hair, "it's good to see you." He lifted her off the ground for a second, then put her back and pulled away. Worry filled his eyes.
"Nat, you should know that Tony and I got into it at Siberia. It...it was bad. I don't think he'll forgive me."
Natasha chewed on the inside of her cheek before speaking again. "He'll forgive you eventually. He just needs time." She wasn't just saying that to Steve; she was saying that to herself. Maybe if she reassured herself enough that Tony would forgive her, he actually would.
"I got a burner phone, and I think I'm gonna send it to him along with an apology. I can't stand the idea of him thinking that I hate him."
"Write it quick and we can mail it out from Europe," Natasha said in a matter-of-fact tone. "You two can't stay here. There's a safe house in Romania that's empty and much better than this. We'll go there. I know a guy who can give us a lift on his plane. It won't be a Stark jet, but it'll do the trick."
"You know a guy with a plane? Who isn't Tony?" Sam asked with wide eyes. Steve had already grabbed a pen and paper from the floor and begun to write furiously.
"You'd be surprised by the company I've kept over the years, Wilson." she said with a smug smile. "Pack your things and let's go."
"These are my things." He said, gesturing to a small case next to the bed. "I'm good to go whenever." After a few minutes, Steve wrapped up the phone and letter into a small folder and sealed it shut. Then, the boys grabbed the few possessions they had and stood up.
"Ready when you are, Romanoff." Steve said with a deep breath. She nodded and headed to the door.
"I'm going to pull a car into the alley. Don't ask where I got it because you won't approve. We'll drive to a small airport in Java and fly to Europea from there. I'll give your folder to an associate in Romania who owes me a favor and she'll mail it for you." Not waiting for a response, Natasha opened the metal door and headed back up the stairs.
"Damn. Looks like it's us three against the world from now on. Or us three plus Wanda, wherever she is." Sam said with a smile.
"Norway. She's in Norway. I'm pretty sure Vision is with her." Steve replied.
"Okay. We're the four-and-a-half musketeers. Us versus the government. The fabulous foursome. The--"
"I get it, Sam," Steve cut him off with a laugh. The two of them heard the sound of tires crunching the gravel above them. Quickly, they headed out the door and piled into the small car in front of them.
"Is this stolen? This definitely isn't yours," Steve said condescendingly.
"I thought I said don't ask," Natasha replied from the front seat, humor tinging her voice. "Besides, we both know that any one of us can hot wire a car, and probably will in the inevitable future. Welcome to a life on the run, boys."
Silence fell over the group as Natasha pulled out of the alley and onto the main road. Steve met her eyes in the rearview mirror.
"Us against the world," he said to himself, before turning his gaze to the city outside the window. Us against the world sounded pretty lonely.