Chapter Text
RING. RING. RING.
Your eyes open blearily as you hear the obnoxious tone of the alarm on your phone. You slam your hand onto the nightstand, hoping it hits the screen, snoozing the noises for a few precious minutes. The weight on the bed dips and you feel a pair of warm arms wrap around your chest from behind.
“It’s too early,” Natasha whines in your ear.
“Never too early for a workout,” you reply, your voice still hoarse with sleepiness.
“We need a vacation.” Natasha presses her face against your shoulder blades, inhaling deeply. Even your scent relaxes her, and she loves how safe and happy she feels with you. It had been a little over six months since you two had become a couple, and no moment was taken for granted.
Being Avenger was already difficult—dating one was nearly impossible. For a while, your schedules had been completely incompatible: you had been on night shifts while Natasha took the days. She finally put her foot down when she realized how precious her time was with you. You were almost 200 years old with no end in sight. Natasha knew the chances of her outlasting you were slim and wanted to spend every moment she could by your side.
It hadn’t been love at first sight, but once she had warmed up to you, she was hopelessly and utterly in love with you. You returned her feelings with just as much vigor and passion. You had never had a partner like her and knew you would never find another.
“We’ll take a vacation soon,” you promise. Her legs squeeze around your waist as she clings to your back like a koala. “Come on, Nat. You know those new recruits won’t train themselves.”
“They can wait a few minutes,” she purrs, kissing below your ear and then down your neck.
“Hmm, maybe later,” you say, and Natasha out of sheer disbelief that you are somehow able to resist her temptations.
“You’re unbelievable,” she sighs, resting her head against your shoulder.
“Are you gonna come join us today?” you ask, sitting up with her still clinging onto you.
“I mean, I’ll go just to watch you…”
“Try not to be too much of a distraction,” you tease.
“As if,” she snorts.
“You gonna let me go?” you ask, patting her hands still locked over your chest.
“Never.”
You shrug, standing easily even with her added weight and walk to the bathroom. As you start brushing your teeth, Natasha finally drops her feet to the floor. She doesn’t return to bed, despite that it’s barely four in the morning, and hangs around just to be with you before you go to work.
Her hands automatically reach out for your hair when you lean over the sink to spit out a mouthful of toothpaste foam. No matter how much she’s tried, Natasha’s found it absolutely impossible to style your hair any other way than the two tufts combed back over your ears. You swear it’s a superpower, and you know she’s just frustrated by how attractive it looks.
Once you’re done with the bathroom, you change into a gray T-shirt and black shorts, slipping on your sneakers and grabbing your phone from the nightstand. Natasha hovers around you the whole time, making no effort to get ready herself.
“I’m taking the recruits to Central Park,” you say. “You wanna meet us there?”
“I’ll come for the view,” she pouts.
“We’ll get lunch later?” you ask.
“Fine.” She crosses her arms, clearly unhappy with you leaving her alone so early. You walk back over to her and pull her into a hug, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. She holds onto you tightly and you patiently wait for her to release you.
“Be safe,” Natasha murmurs against your chest.
“I will.”
Once you’ve left the bedroom, Natasha raises a hand to her neck, tugging absently on the chain of the dog tags you gave her for your six-month anniversary. Your name was engraved on one tag, and Natasha’s name was on the other.
She knows it’s ridiculous to worry that someone like you, who is virtually indestructible and has over a century of life experience, could ever be unsafe in public, but she can’t help herself. She hasn’t forgotten the incident that brought the two of you closer, and even though your brother Victor has not dared show his face since then, it’s only a matter of time before he does.
Natasha crawls back into bed unhappily, missing the warmth of you beside her. She lies there, wide awake, until her own alarm rings, signaling her turn to get ready for the day.
Two hours later, you stand before a small group of recruits, each of them in matching gray shirts with their last names on the back in blocky black letters and black shirts. Two of them have the same name: Maximoff. The male, Pietro, had the gift of superhuman speed, making it almost impossible to tire him out through running. However, Fury trusted that you would find other ways to make him feel equally exhausted as his fellow recruits, and you delivered—usually by weighing him down with a backpack filled with rocks.
Pietro’s twin, Wanda, had a more normal level of stamina. There was also a purple, human-like android named Vision, whom you were fairly certain needed no physical conditioning, but he insisted on tagging along for the camaraderie of it. The last recruit was the most human of the group, Sam Wilson, and despite being older than the other three, his passion made up for it and you admired his sheer willpower to push himself through your workouts.
“Down!” you yell, and the four recruits bend their elbows to lower their upper bodies to the grass. “Up!” With some struggle, everyone pushes themselves back into the starting position.
“Ten!” they call out weakly.
You see their hips sagging and arms trembling. “Recover!”
They scramble to stand, spines snapping into a rigid position and arms locked to their sides.
“Too slow! Back down!” you order.
As they drop to their bellies again, you smell a familiar strawberry and vanilla scent. Someone slips their hand into yours from behind and presses their body against your back.
“Looks like I made it just in time,” Natasha says.
“I was starting to think you got lost,” you reply.
Normally, you’re not one for public displays of affection, especially while you’re working, but you know Natasha loves showing off that you belong to her and she to you.
Wanda, still straining to hold the pushup position, eyes Natasha with envy. You casually loop your arm around her waist, bringing her closer to you and inclining your head towards her so she can whisper into your ear.
Ever since she had joined SHIELD’s Avengers team and you were introduced to her as the lead physical trainer, Wanda found herself inexplicably drawn to you. Even though you were her superior and at times could be downright terrifying, you were also respectful and humble.
She had seen you encourage Pietro when—for probably the first time in his life—he had completely run out of steam and didn’t think he could finish the workout. She had seen your patience when going over defensive tactics with Wilson. She had seen Vision pick arguments with you over the ignorance of humankind, but you stood your ground without belittling him or mocking his lack of humanity.
And Wanda could never forget the time she stumbled during a run and sprained her ankle, and you picked her up without complaint and carried her all the way back to the Tower. She remembers the feeling of your heartbeat against her ribs, the comforting strength of your arms, the way your lips were only inches from hers—
“WHAT ARE YOU ALL STILL DOING ON THE GROUND?” Your booming voice snaps Wanda out of her fantasy and she sheepishly drops her gaze back to the grass, knowing the consequence of making eye contact with you during a training session. “Recover!”
Gratefully, her and the other three recruits jump to their feet.
“Half-left, face!” you say, and the recruits pivot to face you and Natasha. They stare past you, blinking as little as possible, their cheeks flushed and sweat dripping from their foreheads. Turning to Natasha, you ask, “Did you drive here?”
“No, I ran.”
You squint as you look over her leather jacket and jeans.
“Of course, I drove, you dummy.” She pushes your shoulder playfully.
“The Corvette?” Immediately, your eyes scan the closest curbs in search of her beloved black Stingray.
“No, I wanted to be a little more low-key.” Natasha points to a white Ford Explorer instead. “Race you home?” she asks.
“I hope you can keep up.”
“Oh, I’ll be right behind you, enjoying the view.” She pecks your lips then walks back to her car, as you get the recruits ready for the run back to the Tower. You wait until Natasha is settled inside her Explorer before giving the command and the recruits take off.
True to her word, Natasha follows right behind you, smiling the whole way.
Once you return to the Tower, you dismiss the recruits to shower and prepare for the rest of their other classes. Natasha has a series of meetings she has to attend, so you busy yourself with a shower and snack.
Just before the lunch hour, you place yourself outside the conference room door, waiting for your girlfriend. Natasha greets you like she hasn’t seen you all day, grabbing your hand and dragging you down the hall to the elevator.
“Where do you want to eat?” you ask, pressing the button for the first floor.
“There’s that new Asian fusion place that opened up down the street last week,” Natasha answers. “You want to try that?”
“Sure.”
“And maybe after that we can get ice cream?” she says, almost shyly.
“That means you’ll have to join me for a workout tomorrow,” you reply, stepping out of the elevator with her.
“What kind of workout?” she asks, raising her eyebrows suggestively. “Because if it’s in bed, then I have no problem—” Natasha rambles on, but you’ve stopped listening to her.
Because beyond the front doors, you hear someone approaching. Fast. But they’re not on foot, or in a vehicle. What you hear is the rush of air as they race towards the Tower at a speed that should be impossible for someone not traveling in a vessel of some kind.
“Y/N?” Natasha notices that you’ve stopped paying attention to her.
Suddenly, the ground begins shaking so hard that the windows bordering the front wall bend and waver.
“Get down!”
Before you can throw yourself onto Natasha, the front doors, which are several inches thick, tear right off their hinges and swing inwards—straight for where you and Natasha are standing. Natasha throws herself to the side as you drop to your stomach, the bottom of the door almost grazing your back before embedding itself in the wall behind you.
A man floats through the gap of where the doors once were. He doesn’t appear to be harnessed into any sort of device that allows him to levitate. He wears some kind of maroon-colored armor with a billowing cape, his helmet cut open to reveal his eyes, mouth, and nose.
“Where are my children?” the man bellows.
“Daycare is down the street, dickhead,” you call out, standing and coughing dust from your lungs.
The man glares at you and holds out his hand. He makes a fist and you hear the metal rebar inside the walls twist and tear from the foundation. The rebar shoots out like rusty, razor-sharp fingers. Your claws slice through the skin of your hands in a flash of silver as you use them to hack and destroy the metal rods before they can shred you to pieces.
Meanwhile, Natasha has taken cover behind a pillar, looking around it in time to see you tangled up with the rebar. She draws out her handgun tucked into her jeans and aims it at the floating man.
BANG. BANG.
“—and in 1934, HYDRA was formed when Johann Schmidt, also known as—”
BOOM.
The whole classroom shakes. Sam wakes up when his elbow slips off his desk. Pietro cusses when his hand shifts and his pen drags a line over his notes. Wanda straightens in her seat, looking wildly around the room. Vision stares at Steve as if he did not hear the mini explosion and wants him to continue his dry speech on the history of HYDRA.
“Friday, what was that?” Steve asks the always-present AI.
“A visitor on the first floor.” The electronic whiteboard, which had been showing his PowerPoint, switches to a view of security camera footage from the first floor. A man hovers in the right bottom corner of the video, facing away from the camera. You stand among a pile of debris and yell something; the man waves his hand and metal rods from the wall behind you explode out, trying to ensnare you in their grasp.
“All right, recruits, I know the testing phase is still months away, but consider this a free trial. Let’s go!” Steve doesn’t waste a second, immediately slipping into Captain America mode.
Everyone jumps out of their seats, although there is some hesitancy in the expectation of what to do.
“We’re taking the stairs,” Steve says, leading them out of the classroom. “Vision, Pietro, go ahead and see if Y/N needs help. Do not engage the visitor on your own unless you are under direct order to do so, do you understand?”
“Yes, Captain.” Vision glides away, phasing through the walls with ease. Pietro disappears in a blur, leaving Wanda, Steve, and Sam, to climb down six flights of stairs. Just as they begin their descent, however, Pietro reappears, his face a pasty white.
“What—What are you doing back here?” Steve asks. “Is Y/N okay?”
Pietro ignores him, walking towards Wanda. He reaches for her hand, squeezing her fingers tightly.
“What’s wrong, Maximoff?” Steve demands.
Pietro shakes his head, closing his eyes.
“Pietro?” Wanda prompts, fighting the uncomfortable churning in her stomach.
“It’s Dad.”
Natasha isn’t able to get off more than two shots at the man, but neither of them strike, despite her impeccable aim. At first, she believes it to be due to the distance, until the barrel of her gun flattens like someone wrapped their fist around it and crunched it shut.
She looks over at the floating man, who grins at her.
“Is this how you treat your guests?” he asks. He flicks his right hand and the gun suddenly rips out of Natasha’s hand. Her finger breaks where it’s caught in the trigger guard and she gasps in pain.
“Only those that break down our front door like that,” Natasha responds, holding her hand against her chest.
“I’m just a bereaved father looking for his kids. Surely you can relate?” he asks.
“No, not really.”
The man frowns, then takes notice of the glittering metal necklace around Natasha’s neck. He grins again, making a fist like he’s grabbing onto the dog tags and yanking them. The chain tightens around Natasha’s neck, instantly cutting off her air supply.
She inhales sharply, reaching for the necklace and trying to fit her fingers underneath to break the tension.
The man tightens his fist and the dog tags clatter as they twist together, the chain breaking her skin. A drop of blood trickles over her collarbone. Natasha falls to her knees, choking noiselessly.
As the man’s attention focuses on your girlfriend, the rebar suddenly falls to the ground. You see him strangling her somehow, but don’t question it and run towards him.
He’s still hovering in the air, but you make the effort to reach him by jumping as high as you can. Even with the added weight of a metal skeleton, you’re able to reach his left calf with your claws. Satisfaction fills you as your claws slash into his leg and he screams in pain, his focus on Natasha broken.
You hear her suck in a lungful of air as you land back on the ground, staring up defiantly at the man. But before you can attack him again, he holds his hand out and your entire body goes rigid, like someone trying to press you into the ground.
“Where did those come from?” the man asks, admiring your claws. He moves his hand and you’re roughly forced into a standing position. You feel like a puppet on strings, grunting and struggling to fight your master. “Can you put those away?”
The man shoves the claws back up your arm, and the motion is much harsher than when you retract them yourself. He raises his hand and you find yourself pulled upwards, floating almost level with him now.
“This metal,” he says, “It doesn’t run through your whole body, does it?” He flexes his hand and your limbs jerk out, leaving you splayed in a X. “How did that happen?”
You can only growl, your jaw cemented shut.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re one of the...what are they called...Avengers, is that right?”
You exhale heavily through your nose.
“They kidnapped my children, and I want them back.”
“We didn’t...kidnap...anyone,” you grunt through your teeth.
The man snorts. “They’ve probably got you brainwashed too. That’s all right. I’m about to put you out of your misery anyway.” His fingers flex and it feels like your bones are about to burst.
Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Pietro burst out of the stairwell door, all of them red-faced and gasping. They freeze when they see you being held captive by Wanda and Pietro’s father. Vision is already by Natasha, who grips at her throat and wheezes raggedly.
Wanda has never seen her father, Erik, in person before: he had abandoned her and Pietro long before they were even born. However, their mother had told them plenty of stories about him and his gift of manipulating metal.
Unfortunately, you had a skeleton coated in metal, and if Erik was as ruthless as the stories made him out to be, you were doomed.
Wanda tries to scream out to alert him of their presence, to distract him from hurting you further, but Pietro clamps a hand over her mouth.
“Do not draw attention,” he hisses, as she fights hopelessly against him.
Erik closes his fist and the uncomfortable tug from inside your body heightens. A spike of silver punctures through your arm as Erik strips the metal from your claws and pulls it out of your body.
“Holy shit,” Steve says, but no one hears him. They’re all too busy watching you.
“I’m sorry it had to be you,” Erik says.
You know what’s about to happen.
You know you’re completely helpless to stop him.
You wish Natasha didn’t have to be here to watch.
An awful screeching noise fills the air, like metal grating against concrete. Your head snaps back, your mouth dropping into a silent scream as Erik destabilizes the adamantium to its molecular level and violently removes it from your body.
But there isn’t a “proper” exit for the metal to leave, so instead it spirals through your skin and muscle in long strands, tearing you open and ripping your clothes to shreds. It feels like knives pushing their way out of you and you have no thoughts other than wanting to die.
Once the metal parts from your body entirely, it soars towards Erik, who compresses it into a shield to surround him. The entire process is over in seconds, but everyone is too shocked to react. Erik drops you to the ground when he’s done.
You lie in a crumpled, bleeding heap, your eyes open but unseeing. Natasha is the first to move, rushing to your body and collapsing beside it. Your frozen expression of horror and agony will be seared into her brain forever. She doesn’t even know if you’re still alive but it too overwhelmed to check, the guilt of just standing there and watching this happen to you a crushing weight on her shoulders.
Erik turns and flies out; Steve takes Sam, Pietro, and Vision to chase after him. Wanda joins Natasha by your side. She tries not to look at the damage Erik did to you, instead placing her hands on either side of your head and closing her eyes.
“W-What are you doing?” Natasha whispers.
“Y/N’s…not dead…” Wanda says as she struggles to find your consciousness and suppress it from trauma. You’re there, but barely hanging on, your mind a mess of unintelligible thoughts as you fight for your life. “We need to go…to the med bay…now…”
Natasha hurriedly wipes her tears away, forgetting about her broken finger. It’s nothing compared to the injuries you’re suffering from, anyway.
“It’s okay,” she says, taking off her jacket and draping it over your curled up form. “You’re okay now.” Natasha sees the painful flutter of your chest as you try to breathe. Her hand rests gently on a bloodied tuft of your hair.
“I love you,” she whispers, hoping you’ll hear her and hold on. But she won’t blame you if you don’t.
A team from the medical bay arrives a minute later, sent by Friday, and they load you onto a stretcher. Wanda accompanies them back upstairs, doing her best to keep you alive.
Natasha remains in the lobby, her head spinning and heart aching. This is a nightmare come to life for her. She never thought you could be hurt like that, even when she watched Victor beat you within an inch of your life.
She doesn’t know what she’ll do without you.