Chapter 3
The Avengers stare at her.
Sam is on an armchair, sitting opposite to Tony, mouth open in mid-argument on which movie to watch. Vision and Wanda both sit on the couch, with their glasses raised in mid-clink. Clint sits on a stool, his pencil stopped in mid-twirl. Scott and Rhodey stand behind the couch, paused in mid-conversation. And Steve, bending down to retrieve a dropped book, halts mid-way.
And Natasha Romanoff stands at the door way, a slight smile on her face and a slight nervousness in her eyes.
And in that second, minute, hour, eternity, no one moves.
And then they all move at once.
Clint reaches her first. He’s barely changed at all, only the wrinkles in his face are more deep.
“Holy shit,” he says, as he stands and walks towards her.
He takes her by the back of her head, presses a kiss to her temple, and brings her into a bear hug.
He holds her tight, as if he’s scared that if he doesn’t, she’ll disappear.
“Don’t you dare ever do that again,” he says into her hair, but adds, “I missed you.”
Natasha hugs him back. “I missed you too,” she whispers.
Steve gets to her next. To her surprise, he has a beard.
“Nat,” he says, and the corners of his lips raise in a smile that only Steve Rogers could give.
“Steve,” she says, and she stares up at him and feels this sudden warmth in her chest.
Then he hugs her, delicately, as if he’s scared she will break.
“You’re blonde,” he says casually.
“You’re bearded,” she responds.
He pulls away with a smile but grabs her hands in his.
“Thank you,” he says, with such sincerity in his blue eyes that Natasha suddenly feels exposed, raw, vulnerable.
“It’s okay,” she replies softly.
“I guess I owe you now,” he says.
Natasha smirks. “No, I think we’re even old man.”
Steve snorts.
Sam arrives behind him, pulling her into a one armed hug.
“Glad you’re back Natasha,” he says.
Vision then comes up to greet her with a nod, which she returns.
Wanda appears next to Vision and gives her a quick hug and says “We’ve missed you.”
Rhodes walks up and grasps her hand. There is a stiffness in the way he walks. After his accident, he probably needed some kind of support for his legs. Tony was probably more that happy to help.
“We’re glad you’re okay, Natasha.” Rhodes says.
Scott stands beside him. He awkwardly extends a hand. Natasha shakes it firmly.
Scott winces a little. “I didn’t know you then, but you totally kicked my ass the last time we met.”
Natasha smiles. “It’s nice to meet you Scott.”
He smiles back. “You too, Natasha.”
And then there’s Tony. He was strangely quiet throughout all the greetings.
“God, Red,” he says, with his usual dramatic flare, “You made us all think you were dead.
“Can’t kill me that easily, Stark.”
“Can’t call you “Red” anymore either,” he says, fingering her hair. “When did this happen? You could use a root touch up you know. There’s actually this great little place around the block, it just opened and I think I might sponsor it, it trims mine all the time and - "
“Tony,” she says, cutting him off. He’s rambling like Tony always does when he is nervous or uncomfortable.
He looks at her with an unreadable expression, but Natasha’s a spy, and she can read that there’s relief in there somewhere.
She pulls him into a swift hug.
“Next time, stay in touch with at least one of us.” Tony says, staring her in the eye.
Natasha nods slowly, but then stops. “There won’t be a next time,” she promises.
“Okay,” Tony says softly, looking like he believes her.
Clint steps up and grabs Natasha to face him.
“There better not be,” he says forcefully, “We were so worried about you. I was so worried about you.”
Natasha puts on her best serious face.
“You have my word Clint Francis Barton. Oh! which reminds me…”
She whispers something into the ear of one of the Wakandan servants in the room. He leaves immediately.
Clint eyes her suspiciously.
“I have a surprise,” Natasha says with a smirk.
Later, they all sit on the couches around the TV, and they start watching a Star Trek marathon (Steve still hadn’t watched any of them yet).
She had gotten just the reaction she wanted when she showed Clint her cat.
At first, he was surprised, then honoured, then “What the hell Nat, you just had to use my middle name?!”.
“I almost had to leave him behind, you know,” Natasha had told him.
After getting over the name, Clint was quick to bond with the cat.
“Yeah, well, I’m glad you didn’t,” he had said, looking down at Francis warmly.
And now, Francis is resting on his lap, as Clint strokes his fur while watching the movie.
Natasha looks around her. They are halfway through their movie marathon and Tony and Scott are already asleep (snoring a little too). Sam and Rhodes must have retired to their rooms somewhere in the night, and Vision and Wanda are standing in the kitchen, talking in quiet voices. Clint is still sitting on the floor with Francis, but his eyes are blank and his mind is elsewhere.
Natasha is curled up on the couch next to Steve, who is still actively watching the movie, as he is the only one who hasn’t seen it.
She looks at Steve. Should she tell him about Bucky? What if it ruins their friendship? She isn’t sure which friendship she’s talking about, Steve’s and Bucky’s or Steve’s and herself’s.
Steve catches her staring.
“What are you thinking about,” he murmurs.
He’s looking at her with this kind, tender look, and Natasha can’t tell him. At least not right now.
“Nothing,” she says with a small smile, and turns to look at the TV screen again.
But he’s still looking at her.
Natasha sighs. “What are you thinking about now that you’re staring at me so intently.”
Steve barely even blushes.
“How I’m scared that you’ll run away again,” he says honestly.
Of course he’s honest. Steve’s always honest with her.
So why can’t she be honest with him?
“You scared me, Nat,” Steve continues, “I looked for you, I asked Clint but he wouldn’t tell me anything. And then one day Clint freaks out and tells me you’ve cut him off and he doesn’t know if you’re okay or not anymore. Six months later and we still don’t hear from you. I thought you were dead.”
There’s a flash of anger in Steve’s face.
“I know,” Natasha says quietly, and she means it, “I’m sorry.”
Steve sighs and puts an arm around her, bringing her in closer.
“I’ve lost enough people I care about,” he says, “I don’t want to lose you too.”
Natasha nods and moves herself even closer into Steve’s embrace.
They finish the movie in silence.
Steve walks her to her room, insisting she couldn’t find it on her own (“Trust me, this place is like a gigantic maze”), and kisses her cheek before turning to leave.
Natasha stops him. “Steve,” she says, and she wants to tell him so bad, but he looks so peaceful and relaxed in the dim lighting and his eyes look so tired.
So instead she flips on one of her smirks and says, “For the record, I missed you too.”
And he smiles at her. A happy smile. One that made Natasha feel safe. Like she belonged.
And so after she closes her door she smiles to herself.
Because Steve looked happy.
They had all looked happy that she’s here.
And suddenly Natasha feels like she going to cry.
She’s finally home.