The Eternal Avenger

Chapter Forty-One: Trouble

A/N: Content Warning: Violence

(Natasha's POV):

Claray looked up from the scroll she was reading, slamming it down on the desk out of frustration. We had been in Scotland for eight months, with a few trips back home to check in under our belts. The team were all working on possible solutions, but nothing we did seemed to come to fruition and the pressure was weighing on us all.

"Careful with that, it's 500 years old," Bridgit shrieked from across the room. Claray rubbed her face with her hands, exhaling.

"Sorry, Bridg," she sighed softly. I approached her side of the table, glancing at what she had been reading.

"No luck?" I asked. She shook her head. All of us looked up at a noise from the doorway of the library to see Cassius standing there. He gestured with his hand, indicating that we were being summoned by the mistress of the house. Claray's father Duncan and I had become friendly almost instantly. Her mother Diana was a bit more challenging. She didn't seem the type to open up to people, especially strangers. Occasionally, however, I would catch her watching Claray and me together, smiling. Although she never said as much, I could tell that she was happy for us, despite the circumstances. We rose in unison making our way to the study, taking our respective places out of habit. Duncan cleared his throat, glancing towards Bridgit, Claray and myself expectantly, but pausing out of deference to his wife. Diane looked at us as well, but her face was lined with worry.

"Ma?" Claray asked, breaking the silence.

"There's been an attack in Romania," she began, hesitating only slightly. Claray frowned, leaning forward in her seat.

"What kind of an attack?" She glanced between her parents expectantly.

"A new pack took on two vampires and killed them," Duncan explained quietly. Claray's head snapped towards her father. I knew that look in her eyes. We were going on a trip.

Only a few hours later, Bridgit, Claray and I were on the quinjet, heading towards Eastern Europe. I messaged Steve and let him know we were on the move. He responded immediately asking if we needed help. It seemed that everyone was on edge, looking for something useful to do. Besides, he had recently started talking about starting some community outreach, and it seemed to be helping him. I didn't want to take that comfort from him for a war that wasn't his to fight. Claray came up behind me as I was finishing my text, wrapping her arms securely around my waist. "How's he doing?" She asked softly. I shook my head, shoving my phone back into my pocket.

"About the same as us," I responded, a grin threatening to cross my face. She rolled her eyes in response, groaning.

"No plan yet?" She nuzzled her face into my neck, and I shivered.

"Not yet," I sighed. I looked out of the cockpit window. We were passing directly by Sokovia, and the scarred landscape was another reminder of our failures. Claray followed my eyes, squeezing me tightly in response.

"It wasn't your fault, m'eudail (my dear)." She whispered softly.

"Wasn't it?" I turned to face her. She frowned, tracing her thumb gently across my face.

"No, it wasn't, Natasha. You did everything you could - you've given your life to helping people once you joined Shield." I nodded, wanting to believe her but not fully able to. "You need to stop beating yourself up," she added, resting her forehead against mine. I smirked.

"You first," I teased, earning a smile.

"Touché, princess," she teased back.

(Claray's POV):