Chapter 2
Natasha fucking hated house arrest.
She knew she should be grateful she only got house arrest and not worse, as Ross kept helpfully reminding her anytime they talked, but she couldn’t help but hate it. She felt trapped, and she despised feeling trapped-especially now, when she knew she could run and not have to deal with this, when she knew she could disappear without them managing to find even the slightest trace of her anywhere, ever again. She could be anonymous, and far, far away from this entire mess.
But she didn’t run.
She couldn’t bring herself to, not after she had heard the basics of the fight in Siberia. She wasn’t told in person by any of the people who had once been her family, not by Pepper or Rhodey or Vision or Happy. (Not by Tony either, though she would never expect him to.)
No, she was informed on what happened by the media, just like every average citizen, though Maria had helped fill in a few details.
Speaking of Maria, she visited-or at least tried to-every week, bringing books or files or stories about missions or Fury. Sometimes they went out together, to the few limited places Nat was allowed to go, though it quickly grew boring and they retreated back inside. It was nice to just be able to talk to someone, Nat thought, and the two had never been closer. House arrest would have been a lot more unbearable without Maria’s visits.
Maria wasn’t retired, exactly, but she was working a lot less than before. (Which wasn’t that hard, actually, you could hold down two or three small jobs and still work less than she had when she was the Deputy Director of SHIELD.) She’d gotten herself an apartment in Manhattan, and she usually worked from home, organizing files and reading mission reports and issuing orders. Every once in awhile, she went on a mission herself. But mainly she lived a fairly civilian life, befriending her neighbors, visiting Natasha, and hiding her crush on a certain blonde by the name of Sharon Carter.
Sharon was a frequent topic of discussion during Maria’s visits, but they talked about other, more serious things, too.
Like the Accords, and Tony.
Occasionally, Maria brought up ideas for how Natasha could try to fix her relationship with him. Most of the time, Natasha brushed off her attempts, but sometimes she didn’t.
“I think you’re going to need to start the conversation, Nat,” Maria said, curled up on Natasha’s couch with a cup of coffee in one hand. “You two need to talk. It’ll take time, and effort, but I think you two will get back to being friends eventually. He’ll understand why you did what you did. He doesn’t have many reasons to keep you away.”
Natasha scoffed, sitting across from Maria in an old armchair. “He has plenty of reasons to,” she said. “I betrayed him. More than once. That’s all he’s seen me do, he has no reason to expect anything else. He said so himself. He thinks being an imposter sticks in the DNA.” And maybe it did. She knew that more than pretty much anyone else, knew how hard it was to be yourself when you had been so many other people, knew what it was like to question if there even was a her, or if there was just layers and layers of masks and lies. “People tell the truth when they’re angry, Maria.”
“Not always. People also say what they know will hurt, even when they don’t think it’s true. Anger can cloud the mind.”
Maria looked so calm sitting there, and sounded so smart and rational, that Natasha almost wanted to hit her. She was right, Nat knew she was. And she did want to apologize, she really did, she wanted to reach out and talk to Tony and at least attempt to fix things, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was scared, scared of Tony rejecting her apology and pushing her away, which would be entirely fair. Natasha had spent her life hiding and lying, avoiding pain by not opening up and not getting attached, and the risk of pain was just too great, too intimidating.
She had been through so much already, felt so much pain, and the last thing she needed was more of it.
But so had Tony.
And if her saying something might help him… She would try, at least. Try to write to him, or to call him, and if it was too much for her, she would give up and stay away from Tony, hope that not being confronted by her and not seeing her again would be enough to help him get through the last time she’d ever betrayed him.
Because it would be the last time, if he let her back into his life again.
“Alright,” Natasha said with a sigh. “Fine, you’re right. I’ll try to talk to him. Or write to him, or something like that. But I won’t promise that I won’t give up.”
Maria smiled, accepting this small victory. “Good. Now, can we talk about Sharon’s new haircut? Because damn.”
Natasha grinned, laughing a little. This was good, she decided. Long talks and coffee with Maria, curled up in her living room, warm and safe and happy, if only for now. She could survive with just this, if she had to.
God knows she’d thrived with less.
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Natasha set down her pen, ignoring the aching pain in her head and the feeling in her chest that meant she was going to have to stop herself from crying, and sealed the envelope, placing it on the counter so she would remember to take it to the post office tomorrow, when the sun was out and she had had a full night of sleep.
Of course, she might have talked herself out of sending the letter by then, but she was okay with that possibility.
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She sent the letter.