Chapter 1
Natasha Romanoff wakes up at exactly 6 am and takes her time as she walks to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. She keeps looking around her, sifting through her mental checklist to see if she has forgotten anything. And, as if right on cue, Francis creeps his way out of shadows and brushes his big, white fluffy tail against her shins.
Natasha sighs and reaches down to pet him. “You know I can’t take you with me.”
She picked up the stray cat when she had first moved here. Milan, Italy seemed like the best option, as her last location was Paris and so the two were just a quick, inconspicuous train ride away. When she arrived at her apartment room, there he was, sitting on the bare living room floor, staring up at her as if he had been expecting her to come.
Natasha hadn’t expected to keep the cat, but she ended up doing just that. Not because she loved cats or anything (god no, pets are a liability), but because she had not been in direct contact with living, breathing organism for too long. Sure, she had to get close to take down guys who were too hot on her trail, but that was different. Francis doesn’t try to kill her. Instead, he snuggles against her, provides her with his presence, which is comforting.
But today, it’s just annoying. Francis continues to nudge her, as if that would change her mind.
Natasha sighs, and picks up her coffee mug in one hand and Francis in the other as she makes her way to sit on the couch. She sits cross legged as she takes a sip of her coffee (black, of course), and settles Francis on her lap.
“I’m sorry,” she says to Francis in a soft voice, “But I can’t bring you all the way to Peru with me.”
With the uprising number of bodies she has left behind, it would be no time before General Ross’s men or whoever else trying to track her down would find her. And, she’s stayed in Milan for far too long. Two whole months actually. But Natasha couldn’t help it. The city was beautiful, in an aged and vintage sort of way. In the time she’s been here, Natasha spent her time relaxing and enjoying the many art galleries the city has to offer. But now that Ross’s men have sniffed her out again, enjoying fantasy land for her was over.
Peru was what she decided on. Far away enough from Europe but not at all close to Russia. Peru was unpredictable, spontaneous, and an adventure. Peru was perfect.
There is a downside however; she can’t bring Francis. Peru is too far away, and having a big, white cat with her would draw unwanted attention. She’s sure that Francis would be just fine on his own. She barely takes care of him, as he knows how to twist and sneak his way into places, and uses it to his advantage. He prefers to get food on his own instead of just eating the cat food Natasha buys for him. He is resourceful, and he reminds Natasha of herself, when she was younger.
Natasha likes Francis.
Oh, and the name? Clint Barton’s middle name. Which, he despises by the way, and that is the exact reason Natasha used it. Clint already has a child named after her, and so she’s got to return the favour. She never fails to smile when she imagines Clint’s face once she tells him the name of her cat is Francis. But soon her happiness becomes sadness when she thinks about Clint. She hasn’t spoken to Clint in a very long time. Eight months to be exact.
After the fight at the airport, where she let Steve go and shot T’challa with her widows bite, Natasha Romanoff had to disappear. She was used to going into hiding. To slink away into the shadows. But this time it felt different. It felt lonely.
She keeps in touch with Clint at first. He is her best friend after all. She asked about how Laura and the kids were doing, and felt her heart drop when Clint said he wasn’t sure. He only called them once, and that was to tell them not to call him back, as he was worried about their safety and confidentiality. And, after contacting Clint through encrypted messages on burner phones for about four months, Natasha decided to end their communication.
It’s hard, not having Clint to talk to, but it is for his own safety. Who knew how long she would need to be on the run. Natasha had to end anything that would connect her to Clint or the others. But that didn’t mean she didn’t miss all of them.
Although Natasha would never admit it, she had become accustomed to (and, well, enjoyed) the company of her fellow Avengers. Sure, Tony’s enormous ego, Clint’s abilities to be extremely annoying, and Steve’s unwavering stubbornness all got on her nerves, but, she always appreciated Tony’s humour, Clint’s affection, and Steve’s honesty.
And when they were all together as a team, it felt like they were a family. It felt like something Natasha hadn’t had in a long, long time. It felt like a home.
And she missed them.
But it’s been a year since Natasha has seen any of the Avengers. It’s been a year of moving locations and dodging the government.
God, Natasha thinks, as she eyes her reflection in the blank TV screen opposite of the couch, It’s been a whole year.
Her hair is shorter; it barely brushes the tops of her shoulders. And it’s blonde.
She had always wanted blonde hair as a little girl. Red meant blood. Red meant death. And, red hair is what General Ross’s men are sent to look for.
And so she dyed it blonde. Icy, icy blonde. Just how she wanted it when she was little. Natasha decides she likes the change. Its makes her green eyes stand out and brings colour to her fair skin.
Her lips are different too, somehow. They look sad, almost. Like they haven’t laughed or smiled in a while.
Natasha glances at her watch. It is almost time to hop in a cab to the airport and leave.
She shoos Francis off her lap and stands to do a final sweep of her apartment.
Everything she needs is now neatly packed into a rather small suitcase. But, just when she’s just about to up and leave, there is the sound of a phone ringing.
Natasha freezes.
The apartment had come with one home phone, which she had disabled. But, she had recently bought a new burner phone, that no one knew the number to, just in case she is ever caught in an extremely bad situation. She has forgotten about it, as it is stashed in a cupboard in the kitchen under some old cookbooks that were already there when she got the apartment. It was stupid, really, buying the burner phone. There wasn’t a situation that Natasha Romanoff couldn’t get herself out of. And no one has the number.
But the phone is still ringing.
Running to the kitchen, as if the phone is a time bomb, Natasha curses under her breath as she gets there to open the drawer.
She pulls out the phone and presses the accept button.
“Who the hell is this.” she says menacingly.
“Ah, Natasha, it is a pleasure to hear your voice again.” A familiar voice says.
Natasha almost drops the phone.
How did King T’challa get her number? And, more importantly, why?
Steeling her voice, Natasha responds.
“What do you want?”
“Your highness.” Natasha adds. She did betray him.
“Natasha, I would have called sooner but it took a while to find your number.” T’challa says, sounding apologetic, “I am inviting you to come to Wakanda. I have already arranged a private jet to come pick you up at your location. I just need your consent.”
Natasha is silent.
“Please do consider it.” T’challa says, his voice gentle, “Your team misses you.”
The whole team is there. Natasha watches the news every now and then and she knew about Steve breaking everyone out. She's also heard that Tony somehow managed to get the UN to consider rearranging the accords, and in the time being, got the government off their backs. She feels an overwhelming relief to the fact that they are all safe.
There is more silence.
But then Natasha speaks up before T’challa can end the call.
“How is everyone?” She asks, and to her dismay her voice cracks a little at the end. “How’s Clint?”
If T’challa heard or noticed, he doesn’t show it. “They’re all hanging in there” is all he says.
“Is Steve okay?” She asks, surprising herself and the King.
She worries about Steve. His moral righteousness is bound to get him hurt one day. And then there’s Bucky. She’s starting to remember more about Bucky…
“He’s doing okay,” says T’challa, in a voice that could mean everything and nothing.
“And Bucky?”
She could hear his hesitation.
“He is back in cryo-freeze,” says T’challa. “It is what he wanted.”
Natasha closes her eyes. She tried so hard to protect Steve, and Bucky, but she could only imagine how Steve feels about losing his best friend again.
She had to go back.
“I have a cat,” she suddenly says.
“Shouldn’t be a problem.”
Francis purred in content.