The Ultimate Fix-It Fic

9| Johannesburg

Natasha was on the ground. For a second, she wasn't quite sure how she got there. She noticed movement from the corner of her eye and she glanced that way, only to see a red light envelop her vision, like she had closed her eyes in a bright room.

And suddenly, she was walking down the stairs, stumbling slightly, before she remembered to be silent, quiet, still, as she went down the steps.

Natasha didn't look around the beautiful foyer. She knew what it looked like. She'd been there for 6,734 days since she was a baby. She was raised there, in the beautiful, sickening place.

Faintly, the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy was playing in the background, evoking memories within a memory.

Nat walked towards the ballet studio, where a group of girls were dancing in perfect unison.

They ended in a plie, and the instructor droned, "Again."

His voice made her want to shoot something, preferably him. Instead, she swallowed it down and addressed the person next to her. "You'll break them," Nat murmured.

"Only the breakable ones," Madame B. said, and she could've been anyone, with anyone's voice, though Natasha knew it was her. "You're made of marble. We'll celebrate after the graduation ceremony."

And the next thing she knew, Natasha was on a gurney, being carted to the operating room again, seeing the faceless, silent girls watching her as she passed them. She wondered if they were just figments of her imagination, or if they were real, girls that she saw that day, so long ago. She heard their whispers. She recalled the dream she had just yesterday, though now it seemed like a distant, foggy memory.

"What if I fail?" Natasha breathed.

"You never fail."

-

Natasha was woozy still, but she heard Tony's voice on comms, asking her for a lullaby.

"The whole team's down." She heard Clint say. "You've got no backup here."

Tony sighed. "I'm calling in Veronica."

Natasha struggled to her feet and looked around. Somehow, Clint had gotten them all back into the Quinjet.

Clint rushed over. "Nat–"

"Get out of my way, Barton," she muttered. She stumbled to the special med kit she packed for herself and took out a little airplane bottle of vodka. She looked at the tiny size disgustedly, wondering why she didn't bring the big size, and she remembered Bruce chuckling lightly at her. "You want to bring drinks onto a jet?"

She growled at the images still in the front of her mind, and she downed the whole tiny bottle. Warmth spread from her throat to her chest, accidentally choking her a little, and making her eyes water. It didn't matter. In fact, it helped a little. Her eyes stopped burning.

Clint tried to help her over, but she gritted her teeth and sat down in the co-pilot's seat by herself. Nat called Tony over the comms. "Tony," she managed. "How's it going out there?"

"Uhhh..." Tony let out a breath. "To be completely honest..." Natasha heard something crash over the line. "... Everything's gone to shit. Remind me, what I'm supposed to do?"

"Language." Nat cracked a small, broken smile. "Okay, so you've got Veronica?"

"Yeah."

"That's not going to last very long, so use the time the Hulk has in there wisely and evacuate all the civilians and officers at the scene. The less people, the better. Draw him to the biggest empty space possible, like a field or something. If it doesn't work, you'll have on the Hulkbuster." She paused. "Right?"

"Yep."

She sighed. "Okay. Talk to the Hulk like you're talking to, say, a kindergartener. Don't mention anything that Bruce likes– strike that– don't even mention Bruce. Not even the word 'Banner'. It'll set him off even more." Nat rubbed her throbbing temple. "What's happening?"

"Um." Tony's voice was cutting in and out, probably because his equipment was damaged. "So. Big and green here made a sinkhole and came out underneath the police cars."

"Do you need help?" She asked, though she could see Clint glaring at her.

"Uh, I was under the impression that you were helping, Ms. Romanoff."

"In the fight, Stark."

Tony sighed. "Yeah– could you–? I've almost got him– Oh, no I don't. Can you just get here in time? In around, what, five minutes?"

Nat grabbed her gloved and ignored Clint's angry face. "How many buildings are you going to destroy?" She muttered.

"Enough to make a dent," Tony admitted.

"Pepper's not going to be happy."

"She can't be happy. Happy's Happy."

Natasha shook her head. "You and your fucking dad jokes. You and Nick. Idiots." She stood at the edge of the city, watching clouds of dust plume up from multiple parts of the city. "Where are you?"

"Headed to the center," Tony grunted. "Stay a block away until I call for you. Help the civilians out."

Natasha went and helped out with the evacuation until she heard Tony blasting the Hulk with some sort of beam and a building collapsed onto the large green figure.

She let out a little sigh. This was going to be all over the news. Fury wasn't going to be happy.

"Nat!"

She started running towards the ruins of the building, arriving just as the Hulk clambered out of it.

Traces of red faded from his eyes as he took in the scene, seeing the guns trained on him, the helicopters, all the dramatics.

Nat knew the bullets wouldn't do a thing, and those helicopters were millions worth of infrastructure that wouldn't do any good in pieces. "Tony, get the useless out of here," she said, and she turned off her earpiece. She tugged off a glove quickly as she approached the Hulk.

"Hey, big guy," she whispered, getting his attention nonetheless. "Sun's getting real low."

He glared at her, and she bit her lip. "I know a place we can go," she said softly, knowing he would hear. "A house on an island in Mexico."

The Hulk tossed his head, nervous, feeling Bruce just underneath the surface.

"We could have parties at our bar on the docks." Nat continued. "Just... promise me, adorado, that you'll be okay."

The Hulk took an uneasy step towards her, and then another. Natasha squashed down her fear and kept still. Soon enough, he was close enough to touch, if only she reached out a hand.

"You're gonna be okay?" she asked quietly, brushing his outstretched hand with her own, feeling the restraint give, Bruce coming to the surface quickly. She stumbled to catch him, just as he went back to normal again. "You're gonna be okay."

She stayed with him until the Quinjet arrived and took them in.