We'll Fight Together (Romanogers / Steve X Natasha)

Chasing Planes

"What 'bout S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Clea asked, filling in the space between Steve and Natasha. As close as they had been at the cabin, they were now walking five feet apart.

"That's not gonna work," Steve replied. "First of all, we're sort of fugitives right now. Second of all-" he held up his new shield "-This is technically theirs."

"Not to mention the last time we fought HYDRA, S.H.I.E.L.D was crawling with spies," Natasha added, thinking about the whole fiasco. Well, it wasn't entirely a fiasco... after all, it led to her and Steve getting to know one another.

"And then there's the fact that Ross and entire government is looking for us," Steve continued, adding a little spunk in his voice as if it wasn't a big deal.

Natasha watched Clea's line of sight brush the leaf-ridden ground. Their feet made a ruckus as they trekked through the dying plants. Autumn's pretty colors didn't help; the farther they hiked into the forest, the darker everything around them became. It was like Van Gogh's last painting, Wheat Field with Crows. Furthermore, the fact that the trees looked like art only made it more real.

Eventually, Clea looked up at her. "Since when did the Avengers become fugitives?"

"Since the Accords," Natasha replied. She studied the confused expression on Clea's young face. "The Sokovian Accords were created after the whole Ultron incident. We caused a lot of damage whilst trying to stop him–"

"The Accords were created to keep us from doing our jobs– defending the Earth." Steve interrupted, a bitter venom in his voice.

"I'm actually surprised you trust us, Clea," Natasha said, her red hair ruffling in the sudden gust of wind that blew through the trees. "After all, you're Sokovian."

Clea looked ahead, not glancing at either of them. Eventually, she spoke. "When I was a child, my father used to say, 'Never hate the trying. If they have good intentions, treat them like good people.'" Her head turned towards the sky as she witnessed the falling leaves. "I have enough reasons to believe that you are good people."

Redirecting everyone towards the previous subject, Clea asked, "How will we stop HYDRA?"

Natasha pointed upwards. "The plane you fell from has ought to hold some information. And, if I'm correct, I believe it landed somewhere ahead." Clea pursed her lips and Natasha tried to calm the teen's nerves. "Whatever you fought on that aircraft probably went looking for you. It shouldn't be anywhere near the crash by now."

"And if it is, we'll handle it. Together." Steve said, smiling at the both of them.

.....

The plane was in shambles. The fire had distinguished for the most part, but the destruction it left in its wake was almost unbelievable. Trees had been toppled, a skid mark sat where dirt once was, and much of the grass had been torched. Clea was right; the crates had been stuffed with different fruits, such as apples and durians. Natasha was surprised that Clea never tried to open the boxes, considering how hungry she had been and the fact that she had the powers to do so.

Steve approached the wreckage, heading for the cockpit. He lifted a large piece of scrap metal and threw it out of the way, searching the area underneath. Looking back at Clea, he asked, "Where's the pilot?"

"The monster was the pilot, sir." Clea replied, her eyes grazing the debris. "I didn't realize it until it was too late– I can't believe I did all of this." Her throat croaked as her words finalized.

"No need to call me 'sir,' 'Steve' is quite alright." He had ditched the plane, walking back over towards Natasha. She was holding a small heat-seeking device. "Nat?"

"Besides us, there's no heat signatures." Watching the device a bit longer, she questioned Clea. "How did you crash the plane?"

"My powers made it surprisingly easy," Clea responded. "All I had to do was implode the engines."

"Your powers... what are they exactly?" Natasha had put away the device by now.

"I am resistant to injury and I have telekinesis," Clea said.

"You're one of Strucker's experiments, right?" Steve crossed his arms and tilted his head. His mind was racing with all sorts of questions. Had Clea signed up for the experiments, or was she forced? Did she know Wanda? Would Wanda remember Clea? Their ages weren't that far off; Wanda was young enough for Steve to still call her a "kid."

"Correct." Clea nodded, a pain in her eyes.

Steve was about to ask another question, but Natasha stopped him. She put a hand on his shoulder and her gentle touch took his breath away. He was half-hoping she was bringing him in for a kiss but instead she spun him around and pointed towards something in the rubble. "Steve, look."

He followed her stare, his eyes stopping at a strange sight. "Footprints."

Natasha let go of Steve's shoulder, her hand brushing down his arm as it dropped. Unintentional, but she didn't regret it. "Yeah, but look closer. All of them are different sizes."

"Clea, didn't you say the monster that attacked you could change it's appearance?" Steve asked. The teen nodded and Steve continued. "Another one of Strucker's experiments, I'm guessing."

"Maybe not," Natasha cut in. "S.H.I.E.L.D used to develop chips that allowed agents to 'shape shift.' The devices would be implanted in the back of the neck and were tied to a government database, that way the user could only imitate the living. Fury stopped production after he realized the security threat they posed." She looked at Steve, her green eyes reminding him of summer.

"What are we going to do?" Clea inquired. "They could be impersonating anyone."

Steve thought for a moment, his eyes traveling from the forest around them to the plane. He kept thinking about the parallels: HYDRA, a crashing plane, a terrified kid who's just a little bit different than everybody else... He saw himself. Specifically, he saw the part of him that he lost 70 years prior. The only difference here was that Clea was running from the danger, while Steve had tried to destroy it. The other difference? Running may have been Clea's only option.

Finally, after taking one last assessment of the situation, he declared, "Easy. We trust no one."

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Sorry this one took so long. The next one may not be out for awhile. I start school next week. I'll try my best, though. I have some big plans for this.