The Ultimate Fix-It Fic

5| Accords

After hours of silent interrogation by Ross's agents, his task force finally let Natasha go, beaten and tired as she was, back to her Quinjet.

Without Bruce, it felt emptier somehow.

Nat trudged back to the helm, where, without Quinn's assistance, she flew back to the Tower sullenly.

Tony ran up to meet her, eyes in a terribly agonizing pain as she stumbled off the jet, knowing. Nat knew she had a face of utter defeat on, and at the moment, all she wanted to do is curl up in the room that she and Bruce had shared for a while and cry, or sleep, or even just lay there emotionlessly as she contemplated all her decisions.

Instead, she accepted the grim silence Tony was carrying, and they walked back to their suites slowly.

Along the way, Steve had tried to ask what was going on, but Tony had glared at him while Natasha didn't even have the energy to look up. She needed someone to help, but she didn't know who.

Tony dropped her off at Bruce's old room, and let her be. He's a good friend.

Natasha took a shower, not bothering to turn up the heat, trying to rinse away the feeling of grief and defeat, because Bruce wasn't dead, and she still had a chance of saving him.

He isn't dead yet. Don't forget the 'yet', a small voice said gleefully in the back of her mind. She snapped at it to shut up.

Nat curled up under the covers, thumbing in an ID number she didn't really want to type. She did it anyway, though, because she needed some help. Nobody picked up, so she typed in another number.

Fury picked up on the first ring. "Natasha?" he asked gently.

He knew. Nat could've sent out a fresh wave of tears at the compassion in the director's voice, something he didn't show often. "Nick," she managed. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't–" she choked– "I can't–"

"Nat." Cue the tears, and maybe an hour or two later, Pepper knocked on her door softly, a bottle of red wine in her hands and two glasses.

"It's not vodka, but it's alcohol," she offered, and gratefully, Natasha took a glass, and then two, and a third.

At some point in the fogginess of that night, Nat was distantly aware that Pepper tucked her in and left, leaving Natasha alone in the dark room.

She was deep in her thoughts when her phone rang, and when she picked up, Peter's panicked voice came through the line.

"Miss Romanoff! They said on the news! That–" the boy sounded like he had been crying– "that Dr. Banner is dead! That they found him and killed him!"

Natasha steeled herself and put on her softest voice. "He's not dead, Peter. He was captured by the Secretary of State's task force while we flew out to the island, and– and I don't know where he is now." She almost broke character, but she maintained it.

Peter was silent for a long time. "So you mean–" he finally whispered– "we might never see him again?"

"Yeah," Natasha sighed. "Peter, are you okay?"

"I– I'll be fine. In a bit. How about you, Miss Romanoff? You two– I thought you two were together, so it must be hard?" The boy was sweet.

Nat shook her head. "It is, Pete, but I'll get through it. We can get through it." She had a small moment of inspiration. "Why don't you come to the Tower tomorrow? I can start your training, if you want."

"But–" she could hear his slight excitement– "why now? And would I be an Avenger?"

"You won't be an Avenger anytime soon, Peter," Natasha sighed. "But with this, I want you to be able to adequately be in control of yourself, because one day, when you're a hero on the streets, the media will scrutinize you, and when that happens, I want them to know you have it under control, because otherwise, you will be publicly shunned in every way. I want you to be able to hold your own. So, if you want, I'll email your aunt and I'll ask you. What do you have tomorrow?"

"Orientation day," Peter replied quickly.

"Well, come over after that. I'll arrange it with May." Natasha took a deep breath. "I will see you tomorrow, Peter."

"Good night, Miss Romanoff!"

She hung up and sat against the headboard, legs crossed.

In the following months, Natasha busied herself with Peter's training, as well as Wanda's, Pietro's, Vision's, and a little bit of Sam's. She kept in contact with Wakanda's prince and princess, T'Challa and Shuri, with updates on Bucky Barnes that she refused to tell Steve about.

Soon enough, she was back on missions, back to the Russian spy everyone knew, heartache hidden away, and did what she had to do. When she has the time, Natasha was dreaming up plots to either take down the government or just try and get Bruce a fair trial.

Hallowe'en, Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went, winter melted into spring, and soon enough, it was March.

Natasha had a small network of retired SHIELD agents by then, and she got wind of something called the Sokovia Accords. A contract that she and the Avengers would have to sign in order to keep operating, or retire, and leave the fate of the world to the government.

Nat told the team after she had gathered all the facts, and she sat silently at the head of the tables as outrage rang clear around the room.

"What if they put us somewhere we don't think we should be?" Steve demanded. "What happens when they send us somewhere that doesn't need saving as much as the next place?"

"What if they're right?" Tony asked. "We need to take responsibility!"

"Since when were you all about responsibility?" Sam snorted.

After another minute of squabbling, Nat stood up, toppling over her chair and bringing attention to her. The room was silent.

She took a breath. "Instead of fighting, we should come up with a plan." She looked at everyone, straight in the eyes. "Tony, you're right, we need to take responsibility, but this is not the way to do it. This is us signing away our rights to operate where we think the threat is most present, and I don't think we should do that, because that takes away our choice." Natasha leaned on the edge of the table. "Look, at least we knew about this instead of having this sprung on us after we did something wrong. All this tells us is that we need to focus on our skills better.

"Wanda, you, Vision and Pietro need to get better at controlling your powers. I know you're pretty good already, but sometimes it doesn't work out and we need that to stop."

Wanda nodded.

"Sam, we need to have Redwing retrofitted with some tech so they have no excuse that we're being illegal, so no bad parts, no weird stuff that you and Tony might've cooked up while you guys were nerding out."

Sam gripped the little Redwing box that he kept with him.

"Tony, Steve, you guys need to figure out how we went to play this. Ignorant and lucky, or knowledgable and wise or some other idea."

Tony and Steve glanced at each other.

Natasha sighed. "Disassembled. Stark, Rogers, with me. We need to get some stuff done. Rebecca, can you tell Peter to just train with the others today?"

"Certainly," the AI replied. "Would you like me to alert the others?"

"Yes," Nat sat down at the table in the other room while Tony and Steve talked. "By the way, can you get Peter to get me a coffee?"

"Of course."