Project: A Stark Winter

Chapter Twelve: Fragile

The light tapping of rain against your jacket was the only sound keeping you company as you lay on your stomach on the roof of an abandoned warehouse. Your eye was trained through the scope of your rifle, waiting for the ever-elusive targets to dare take a single step out the warehouse door. The sky wept gently as dark grey clouds hovered and shifted above you, spilling out their sorrows onto the dull world below. Where most people found sadness and melancholy, the clouds calmed you. Rainstorms, to you, were beautiful and powerful and above all a reminder that Mother Nature was stronger than we knew. Your position here as lookout was the closest, Tony had conceded, you could get to any sort of fight. His new 'dad instincts' causing him to be hyper-aware of any potential threat to your wellbeing. It was sweet, and lately, also smothering. At dinner, the night of your nightmare encounter, you had begged him to let you start going on missions again. While he tried to counter each plea with a change of subject, he had finally relented. Tony had started to let you train with the team over the following weeks but all punches were to be pulled and any bruise was met with the utmost scrutiny. Bruises already had begun to litter your body with each passing night as the nightmare resumed its assault. As thankful as you were for an excuse to hide the mysterious bruising, you felt guilty at each snide remark from Tony to the team. Not that you entirely blamed him for his watchful eye. He was adjusting to having you in his life in the only way he knew how. Your dad had grown as a father over the years he had spent raising you, and Tony in this universe, had an adult daughter in a single day. Part of you wanted to come clean over what was happening to you, but something deep inside screamed at you to keep it to yourself. Only one person knew about the nightmares outside of you, and he was very unlikely to say anything. Bucky despised your very existence and that was made abundantly clear from his refusal to train with you. On one of your training days, you had jokingly tried to square up with him while sparring with Steve. The strained and pained face he made was denial enough, but Bucky literally made a choking gag sound that accompanied it fully sealed his feelings on you. Tony, however, was very pleased that Bucky seemed to steer as far away from you as possible so that had decided it in your mind. It was nothing to worry about. As you had gotten ready for this morning's mission, you had noticed a very large bruise on your left shoulder blade about the size of a man's foot. Tenderly, you ran your hand over the deeply bruised flesh, your hand pulling back quickly as the pain shot through your back. These were definitely getting worse. Pulling on your rain jacket you had quickly made your way to the loading zone where Tony set about fussing over you. It made you smile as you remembered him bustling around, clucking like a mother hen as he tended to you. He had re-tied your boot laces and helped arm you to the teeth while lecturing you on how dangerous it would be while mentally you recalled every stupid, dangerous thing you'd already done and decided not to push the subject. Instead, you had nodded along with his fussing and agreed to stay above the chaos and assist as a sharpshooter. Stepping onto the quinjet, he had given you a tight hug, nervous to let you go.
"If I didn't have this damn funding meeting with the board I'd be right there with you." Tony muttered solemnly.
"I promise I'll be safe, Tony." You whispered in reassurance, pulling away to meet his nervous gaze. Sighing in defeat Tony steps away and shoos you to board the quinjet.
"You better come back in one piece. I don't need another PR disaster." He gives a final wave as the boarding ramp closes, the quinjet taking to the skies and carrying you toward the waiting mission. Taking a seat by Natasha, you lean your head against the wall of the jet and close your eyes. She nudged you lightly with her elbow drawing your tired eyes to her curious ones.
"Nervous?" She prods honestly, waiting for you to reply sand not allowing your silence to to deter her. Picking at your cuticles you shake your head; trying to find words to describe what it is you felt.
"No. Not really. I've been on plenty of missions like this one. And fought some pretty intense baddies in my own universe. I'm just...I just want to do right by all of you and I'm still trying to find my place, ya know?" She smiles softly and grabs your fidgeting hands in her own.
"Y/n, hate to break it to you, Dorogoy, but you're one of us now." You chuckle dryly at Natasha's words, causing her to tug your hands a bit more firmly.
"I mean it, y/n. There is nothing to prove. You are enough just the way you are."
"But I don't feel like enough. I'm trying my best to amend everything that I did wrong to even be here in the first place, Nat. And it's a second chance, sure. But I spent so long being sad and angry that simply feeling happy or content feels...it just feels-"
"Wrong?" Nat suggests knowingly, her sad smile telling you she understands.
"Yeah...I fucked up pretty bad in my own universe and nearly destroyed everything. This chance feels so...fragile that if I do the wrong thing I could fuck this up, too." She lets silence hang between you while choosing her words carefully; the light droning of the engines filling the space.
"You knew me, in your own universe, right?" She inquires with a quirked brow and turns her body to fully face you awaiting your answer. Biting your lip to stop the impending quiver you know is bound to come you nod. Natasha remains quiet, prodding you to talk about it.
"You- Uh, Nat...was everything to me. She was like my mom, a cool aunt, and friend all rolled into one person. I went to her for everything. Then, when we lost her...nothing felt the same, and then I lost dad, too." Tears prick at your eyes that you quickly wipe away. Natasha tilts your chin to meet her eyes.
"Y/n, you have been through so much. Holding yourself to a standard of normal grieving...isn't fair. As I'm sure I told you about my past, we can skip over my lecture on hurt...I was given a second chance here with the team, too. I choose to do good things and help right wrongs because this second chance is so fragile. But it takes trust in yourself and us to get though this. You'll be just fine." Natasha smiles widely as she gives your hands a final squeeze and lets them drop back into your lap. She rubs her palms on her thighs and slowly moves to stand and walk toward the cockpit of the jet, but not before giving you a quick peck on your cheek. You smile at her as she walks away, basking in the feeling of hope she has given you which is soon replaced with guilt as her emphasis on trust eats away at your conscience. They can't know about the nightmares. They'd never understand.