Shock + Denial
“We don’t know the extent of the damage and how many are gone. The numbers keep going up but we have no clue when the counter will stop.” Steve says as he addresses the few of them that are left.
He looks around the place that he used to call home. The place still looks exactly as it did before he had left, but nothing felt the same. Steve remembered the times when they had sat in this exact room, going over mission briefs, eating junk food and making constant jabs at each other.
But that just seemed so far from reality right now. It was in a different world, a different time, and that moment had long passed.
“Once we find out the number of casualties, we’ll also have to see what we can do to help. Send out teams to help. Let’s do our best to find out Tony’s status right now. It’s imperative that we find out if he’s alive or if he needs rescuing. Fury, Hill, and Clint as well. Nat, you still maintain regular contact with them, see what you can find out-“ Steve stops in his tracks as his eyes land on Natasha. Her eyes are trained on the casualty counter as the numbers go up by the second. He’s never seen her like this before. She’s frozen in place, her eyes filled with tears and mouth agape.
It wouldn’t look like much out of the ordinary to most people, considering the situation they’re in, but he knows her well enough to know that this is not normal for Natasha Romanoff.
His heart aches even more as he fully takes in the sight of Natasha, if that’s even possible. The two of them have been through so much together, and he’d like to think that he knows her as well as anybody in the world could know Natasha Romanoff. He’s seen many sides of her, but this? This is something he has never seen in her before.
She looks so completely and utterly broken. Natasha is normally so composed and in control of her every action and emotions, she would never normally break down in front of everyone like this.
“Actually- I think everybody should get some rest first.” He has to force himself to tear his gaze away from Natasha as he speaks. “I know that it’ll be hard, but we’re all exhausted, and we need to be in the best shape possible so that we can create a proper game plan. We can reconvene tomorrow.” The group nods as they make to leave the mission room, all of them too tired to protest. He waits until everybody shuffles out of the room and him and Natasha are the only people left in the room.
She’s still rooted in the chair she’s sitting in, making no move to get up. Even as Steve approaches her, she makes no move to acknowledge him, she’s too lost in her own thoughts.
He crouches down before her so that they’re at eye level and raises his hand to her cheek, running his thumb down the side of her face. His touch hits her like a jolt of electricity, and she jumps a little in her seat. Natasha’s eyes finally meets his, and the look in her eyes frighten him.
“Hey.” Natasha says softly as her own hand reaches up to cover his.
“Hey beautiful, let’s head to bed, alright?” Steve asks as he pulls Natasha to her feet in one fell swoop.
This is all uncharted territory for Steve. As much as anyone may think otherwise, Natasha had always been the strong one between the two of them. She had always been a pillar of support for him and all their friends, even when they didn’t know they needed it. She was the strong one. She was the smart and levelheaded one who could forge ahead through anything, and now it was Steve’s turn to do the same for her. The anguish he felt over her palpable despair hurts him so much more than the any of the pain dealt to him today.
Despite all this, Steve is nonetheless surprised by how easily Natasha allows herself to lean on him.
He holds her tightly as they walk towards his room, her body pressed firmly to his side and her arms around his waist like a vice.
Their wordless exchange continues as they silently strip and step into the burning hot shower, futile in their attempts to wash away the day until the water runs cold.
Natasha runs her thumb over Steve’s fading cuts on his face, and Steve tries not to wince at the bruises that pepper Natasha’s body. Down her arms and the sides of her torso, turning an angry purple as they start to bloom. The lack of wounds in comparison to Natasha only serves as a sad analogy.
Even as they’ve dried off and are laying in their pyjamas, the silence persists. All they can hear is the sound of their heavy hearts beating in the chests.
They hold each other close for fear of one another disappearing, though they can never say these words out loud.
“Steve?”
“Mhm?”
“Thank you.” Natasha whispers into his chest.
Thank you for being alive. Thank you for staying with me, and holding me close, and not bolting as soon as the path opens up for you- All of this is on the tip of the tongue, but can’t say any of these things out loud.
“Stop being silly, Nat. Get some rest.” There’s so much more than he wants to say, but he’s not sure he can quite put it into words, and he’s not quite sure what is and isn’t appropriate considering the situation. He hopes that she understands what he means even if the words don’t come out of his mouth.
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Days and weeks go by and all of them just try to hold on as best as they can. Even they are lost in the midst of the aftermath, and they don’t know what else they can do except show up where they can and boost public morale, and despite there being nothing left of themselves to share, they still give away every shred of themselves. And Steve does so more than anybody else.
Steve is supposed to hold a press conference with the vice-President, or more accurately, the President now that the previous president has disappeared into a cloud of dust.
Nat tries not to let it show on her face as she watches Steve shave off the remainder of his beard, but the anger bubbles within her anyways. She knows that it’s wrong, but she feels enraged.
It’s time for Steve to return to what he was destined for, and it hadn’t really hit her until this.
The beard, the life on the run, living as a fugitive, none of that is him. He’s shedding his disguise and heading back to the real world. The life that she had known for the last two years was officially gone.
But if Natasha was being honest, it had come and gone long before this. The minute that they had lost, that life had ended too.
It was time for Steve to return to his real life now. This was what he had always been bound for, and the last two years had been a mere detour.
“Are you spying on me, you weirdo?” Steve says teasingly, snapping her out of her trance. His eyes are locked on her through the reflection of the mirror and it takes more effort than she would like to admit for her to loosen her frame and plant a smirk on her face.
“Well in case you haven’t noticed, Captain, that’s kind of what I do.” Natasha walks towards Steve, and wraps her arms around his waist, tucking her head into his back.
“Riiight- Black Widow, the notorious spy, in the midst. You better be careful though, Black Widow, there’s a lady in my life, and she can kick anybody’s ass.” He turns around to face her and laughs as he says it, and the sound of it makes Natasha feel even sadder if possible. He towers over her, as per usual, but he bends down until he’s at eye level, his face mere centimetres away from hers.
“Tell her to bring it on.” Natasha can’t stand to stare into his impossibly blue eyes anymore. His stare is piercing right into her soul, and it makes it feel like her heart has been crumbled into a fine dust. She wraps her arms around his neck and closes the distance between them, her lips still finding his even with her eyes closed. She kisses him until her lungs burn and her lips are bruised, like it’s the last time. It takes everything in her not to cry, because it certainly feels as if this is the last time for her.
Later, when she watches Steve put on the suit that Tony had designed for him, she wants to ask him, beg him, not to go. These were the people who had turned his back on him when he had tried to live his own life, and now they were back, acting as if nothing had happened. He wasn’t a fugitive in their minds anymore, not when they needed him at least. They world had no problem turning to him now that they needed him, calling upon him like they owned him. They all had no problem asking him to die for them.
Steve asks her to come with him. He says that it’s alright that she doesn’t make any public engagements, because it’s not her job.
It’s his job. He doesn’t need to say it when they both know. She seriously debates it for days before deciding against. Because even without her contempt for Washington and the dirty politics at play, she can’t help but feel like it’s something that Steve does for her out of obligation now that he’s back to his real life. It feels like he’s humouring her, like a parent being forced to bring their child to work because he’s tasked with taking of her.
So she says no, telling him that she can’t be away from HQ since she needs to keep track the situation even though they both know she could definitely do it from DC. Still, she is glad that he seems to accept her decision and doesn’t press any further.
“I’ll call you tonight before I head to bed.” Steve says, and for the millionth time in the last few weeks, she feels herself get caught off guard again and she despises it. This isn’t her. It isn’t what she does. “Nat, you alright?”
“Yeah, of course I am. You better get going so that you have time to settle down in the hotel. And you wouldn’t want to keep Rhodey waiting-“ Natasha stops in tracks once she realizes that she’s rambling. She wishes it wasn’t so painfully obvious that she’s doing everything in her power to get Steve on the quinjet, all so she can come out with a bit of her sanity intact.
“Alright, I’ll get going now. See you in a week.”
And with a quick peck and the wave of a hand, Steve is gone from her sight, and Natasha turns on her heels, speeding off like she’s testing how far she can go, how fast she can run.
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Steve calls that first night as promised, and the same the second night. And all through the first week, they try to maintain constant contact through texts, but Natasha feels as though she’s living someone else’s life, playing the role of somebody else. This doesn't feel like her life anymore. It’s something she’s known all too well in her life, but this is something that she had never wanted to do with Steve.
His trip ends up being extended by another week, and by the second week, the two stay in contact with much more irregularity. There are more meetings that he must attend , and his tight schedule makes it hard to stay in contact- this is something that Natasha understands to be logical and true, but in her head, it is just another reaffirmation that Steve has gotten back into the pattern of his real life.
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Natasha decides that their time apart has been good. Or at least she tries her damndest to convince herself of that.
Distance allows for perspective. It's something that Natasha has always relied on to protect herself so that she can step back before she gets hurt. It has taught Natasha that it is better to walk away from something when it is still good and pure, rather than forcing it until toy are left with something broken and sullied.
Their time together had been an anomaly, a mistake, and there was no point in dragging on the inevitable. This was a good thing. It would be a good thing for the both of them. In time, she would learn to accept it, and Steve would realize that it was the right decision.
But if it was a good thing, why did it hurt so goddamn much? Why did it feel like her heart was being torn to shreds every time she took a breath?
She physically braces herself for when he’ll arrive back at the complex tomorrow. She has to keep reminding herself of her mission, torturing herself with the details until she can’t feel anything. She feels as if she’s almost back in the Red Room again, undergoing torture training. But no matter how hard she tries this time, she can’t get it to hurt any less. If anything, it only hurts more and more with each reminder. The good times come flooding back and it's almost enough to stop her in her tracks. Almost.
Natasha takes to setting up her old room to distract herself, but there’s not much to be done. It’s exactly as she left it and it’s as clean as ever. Resigned to her fate, Natasha makes to leave her room after her quick inspection when she’s interrupted by the voice of someone that she was dreading to see for the first time in a very, very long time. Because even when it was bad, she always yearned to see him, always wanted him in her life.
“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Should’ve thought to look here I guess.” Steve says, looking as handsome as ever in a simply grey t-shirt and jeans. His ocean blue eyes are sparkling as he approaches her. And Natasha almost loses her resolve once and for all. But she has to rip off the bandaid before she loses all courage.
“I think that I’m going to stay in my room from now on. I’ll grab my stuff from your room later.” Natasha all but stutters out.
By now, Steve has caught on to Natasha’s lack of enthusiasm at his appearance and the nerves that are flying off of her, even if he hadn't just heard Natasha Romanoff stutter. He looks.. confused, and not relieved as she had originally thought he would, but she doubts that she’s been very clear so far. She takes the deep furrow in his brow and a lack of a response as a sign to continue.
“I think- I think, that it would be best if we went back to our normal lives. Back to the lives we lived before we went on the run.”
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say, Nat. What are you talking about-” Steve continues to approach Natasha, reaching out to touch her arm. She takes a step back despite her heart telling her to hold him close at the site of the wounded puppy look on his face, and shifts her arms closer to her body. Immediately, she sees the hurt spread through his body, and she really, really wants to tell him that she’s sorry, and how much her heart hurts seeing him hurt like this, but she promised herself that she was going to stay strong, and Natasha Romanoff always follows through.
“I’m giving you an out, Steve. A get-out-of-jail free card, a reset, whatever the hell you want to call it. This was just a detour in our lives, it wasn’t meant to last forever.”