Chapter Text
Natasha has had an appreciation for photography ever since Ohio. On a whim, she joined a small photography club at the local high school. It wasn't the most popular club at the school, and it was filled with many weird characters, but the teacher who chaperoned it took a particular liking to her realism. He told her that a picture was worth a thousand words and that hers would speak novels worth of stories one day. She couldn't quite understand what it meant, but she did feel a little satisfied. Natasha had a knack for seeing things as they were, not as they wanted to be. She was a Widow in training, so it was easy to dissect a person from afar with a film camera instead of approaching them. She was always an astute observer.
When Melina realised how invested Natasha was in the art, she bought the girl a 'PXL 2000.' While Natasha was not used to receiving gifts, she was secretly grateful and had the thing with her all the time. It recorded on audio cassettes, most of which would just be short movies where Yelena would play a very dramatised, never well-rounded character. Natasha found that she loved capturing Yelena's laughter on camera.
She took videos of important events like Yelena's first day at school and when Melina took them to the beach while Alexei was away for "work." Something inside of her that was undeniably human wanted to save the precious moments even if they weren't real. She'd watch them back while laying in her bed, Yelena fast asleep on the other side of the room, wishing she could keep them forever. It was never real, but parts of it were when she saw her "sister" and her "mother" build a sandcastle.
After a few months of saving up some of her pocket money and some of Alexei's help, she procured a proper video camera. The tiny camcorder accompanied her everywhere. She graduated from filming her family and random skits with Yelena to filming long strips of nature. Sometimes, she'd prop the camera up on a stack of books in the nearby park and sit beside it while she captured the myriad of people she saw. Kids were playing with each other and kicking their soccer balls in circles on the grass. Young couples took strolls and held each other's hands while they did—middle-aged women who power-walked with their dogs on a leash. The dogs would always be steps ahead of them, running to see and smell everything they could. Whatever was there, Natasha captured while she sat with her chin propped up on her knees. She captured as much as she could while she could.
When they were taken away from their "home," Yelena, Melina and Natasha were sent back to the Red Room. Just before they had hurriedly left their home, Natasha grabbed a photo strip of Yelena and herself. Two photos, both with Yelena and Natasha smiling in a photo booth. Natasha found those photos to be more comfortable than those taken in the Red Room. She discovered the power of the person wielding the lens and how it could be its own weapon, how it could rewrite stories from one single frame. The pictures the Red Room took of them depicted two girls forced into something fraudulent and rife. While undetected in the photograph, fear still etched itself in the corners of the framed joy. It showed that the life Natasha could have had in Ohio was gone long before it had even begun.
Melina didn't allow her to take the photo album filled with staged and unstaged photos. So, at the last minute, Natasha grabbed the photo strip of her and Yelena from the car's sun visor. The small piece of glossy paper proved to her that there was something worth saving. It proved that while the mission was merely a ploy that took three years to complete, human nature grew inside of it nonetheless. When Natasha and Yelena were separated, she never stopped referring to the six-year-old as her sister. Even if it was never real, she still had a part of it that was. It showed that someone thought it was. Yelena never knew it wasn't real and clung to the back of Natasha's shirt, begging to return home. Home did not exist. It only existed in fragments as Natasha comforted her, stroking the wild blonde locks as she cried.
The minor illusion of home as Yelena cried into her lap while they were being transported in the shipping container was the reason Natasha, at the last minute, ran back to Yelena after being pulled away from her. "Take it!" she screamed, pleading that the girl could hold onto the paper for as long as possible. So that Yelena would never forget that there was always someone out there who wished it was real, too.
She never had a chance to take her camera or any of the cassettes. It was probably more manageable that way. At least they would be in the custody of SHIELD agents or burnt to a crisp. If she had to have the heavier devices pried from her hands, she wouldn't know how to stop screaming and clawing for them. If she abandoned the camera before it abandoned her, it would give her peace of mind—control over the uncontrollable, manipulated parts of her life. The memories captured in sprinting frames from Ohio would die along with any hope of an American Dream.
The lens was, again, weaponised when Natasha returned to her true home. The only place in the world that reminded her that she belonged nowhere while it called itself home to her. She was taught to evade cameras at all costs when killing. If it is unavoidable, do not look directly into them. As she was sent out on missions, bludgeoning her ledger in a deeper crimson as the years passed, she earned quite a reputation for her ruthlessness and skill set. She ascended through the ranks quickly, and before she knew it, she graduated with a scalpel between her legs.
Her reputation quickly got her on SHIELD's radar. With a collection of pictures taken from various traffic cams and shop security cameras, she had become one of the most dangerous and feared women in the world. The day a SHIELD agent had put an arrow in her left shoulder and was about to draw back and put another one straight through her chest, she knew she would be going home. Flashes of a park and the feeling of beach sand underneath her fingertips made themselves known as she stared at the man. Her eyes were wide, manic even, with one last plea. To finally be done with it. It would at least be a fair fight if she were to die that day. If she returned to the Red Room injured, there was no telling what they would do to her. She had a suspicion that she would die anyway. Either from her shoulder wound being infected or because one of the Madames or another Widow was told to put a bullet through her head.
When she didn't feel the sharpness of the arrow piercing her skin, the man's eyes softened as he pulled back. It was unheard of for an assassin to go against their orders. She wondered what punishment would await him. When he told her he thought she wanted out, she asked how that would be possible. Showing emotion was trained out of her thoroughly, and if she ever did show any, it would be for her own advantage. Carefully curated emotions. A lifetime of lies and deception.
He said he had been watching her for a couple of weeks, tracking her every move before going in for the kill that never happened. Perched on rooftops, he'd watch as the most dangerous woman in the world bought another ice cream cone for a little girl whose delicious delight fell onto the floor and splattered on the sidewalk. He watched as she made careless mistakes, allowing some of her targets to fight back. He knew she was purposefully making fatal mistakes.
Clint Barton was the name of the SHIELD agent who pleaded her case to Nick Fury. When the director eventually gave in, realising the potential of a former Black Widow assassin in the hands of SHIELD, Natasha had the awkward pleasure of meeting his wife. Laura was sweet and expecting a child when they first met. She cared in a way only a mother could, and sometimes, when Natasha looked at her, she saw glimpses of Melina and a life she could've had.
After her defection was completed and the image of Antonia's school shoes was seared into her mind, she officially became a SHIELD agent. She had a close relationship with Laura and Clint and referred to them as a family on one occasion. For once, the name was not cultivated out of lies and a mission. For once, something grew without the seed of the Red Room.
Her encounter with another prolific lens came the day she was assigned to protect Tony Stark, a billionaire who occasionally donned a suit made of Iron. To lure him into hiring her, they used a part of Natasha that she was taught to use as part of her skill set. SHIELD's backdrops were nothing like the Red Room, only coming in plain white to mimic a studio setting. The lingerie she wore was uncomfortable, and while the agent responsible for taking the pictures was respectful, she still felt undeniably observed and watched. When Stark had pulled those pictures up on his tablet as Natasha used her scissor leg takedown on Happy, she was again reminded of the power of the lens.
Over the years, she mastered the technology of a smartphone camera. She'd, once again, find herself taking pictures of things she felt most comfortable with. It started the same as it did when she was a child. Cooper, Clint and Laura's first child, became her willing subject. A series of videos and pictures were taken where the boy would reenact scenes from his favourite movies. Some were videos of him impersonating his father, using sticks and a string for a bow and arrow.
Like Melina did in 1993, Laura purchased a proper, modern DSLR for Natasha. This time, Natasha was not afraid to show her gratitude. The redhead would secretly take pictures of the things around her whenever she could. Unfortunately, she would only be able to take these pictures and videos when she wasn't being assigned to high stake missions. When Fury moved her to level 10 clearance and finally formed the Avengers, she had less and less time to capture life as it was when she ended up fighting for it half the time. Still, the black-coloured camera was at the bottom of her backpack, waiting to be used.
When Natasha met Wanda Maximoff for the first time, she wanted her jacket back and an explanation. Wanda had gone through turmoil in her own life before she joined the Avengers. Sure, she did make a few mistakes when they technically first met, which involved an unpleasant trip down memory lane and a visit to the place that broke her more than it built her, but after Wanda helped them to defeat Ultron, they decided it didn't count anymore. After Natasha warily accepted Wanda into the little family, she enjoyed the brunette's company.
Their relationship had grown, surpassing even the level of closeness in Clint's relationship with Natasha. While it was terrifying, Natasha found her body tensing less around Wanda and her persona being shed. Being soft, an insult the Red Room would use against her, became her greatest pastime as she lay half-dressed, limbs entangled with Wanda's in her bed.
Wanda was the third person to know about Natasha's love for photography, or at least the brunette described it as such. Natasha thought of it as a hobby that she sometimes had the time to indulge in.
"What is this?" Wanda mumbled as she stared at the camera in her hands. She was looking for one of Natasha's lipsticks and figured it might've been in the black backpack that was always propped against the wall when the redhead was home.
She pressed the power button, the LED screen lighting up.
"Nothing," Natasha snatched it out of Wanda's hand, immediately turning it off. Wanda knew precisely what it was, but she still wanted the redhead to tell her.
"C'mon, Nat. I see you with that thing around the compound. I'm not a spy, but I'm not blind either," Wanda followed Natasha as she walked into their now-shared bedroom.
"It's… it's nothing. It's for… surveillance." Natasha counted herself lucky when she had her back turned to Wanda. The brunette couldn't see the wince on her face and how her cheeks grew pink.
Wanda laughed, "Oh, that's bad, Nat…." She sat on the edge of their bed as Natasha stood in front of their closet, her back still turned. "I don't understand how you thought that would work."
Natasha turned around, smiling shyly. "Documenting crime scenes?"
"You're not a detective," Wanda held her hand out expectantly. "If you want me to see what you've been up to, you'll put it in my hand. I'm not going to pressure you. I'm just curious." The Sokovian's voice was warm now, invitingly comforting.
Natasha relented, licking her lips nervously as she placed the camera into Wanda's outstretched hand. Laura and Clint were aware of her hobby, but neither of them dared to ask her if they could see the pictures and videos she took. She was glad they didn't. It was merely a hobby, after all, and hobbies are meant to be done for pleasure and not perfection, despite what she was taught.
Perfection and pleasure were interlinked in her mind, but at least whenever she snapped a picture, imperfections gave them more character.
Still, as she plopped next to Wanda on the bed, her hand resting on the brunette's thigh, she blurted, "They're not perfect or anything. They're just for fun." Like she needed to remind herself.
As Wanda swiped through the pictures and videos, Natasha did not breathe. The brunette was solely focused on the long exposure shots of people in an art museum, on the still videos of Liho interacting with the camera, on the way Natasha's heart was poured out in little digital squares.
"Nat… These are…" Wanda was astonished as she found perfectly in-focus pictures of everyone on the team. Tony laughed along with the group, a small amount of scotch still in his hand. She clicked on the right arrow again and giggled at a long shot of Steve, deep in thought, as he stared out of the large windows in the compound. She clicked the right button once more and came across pictures of herself. She was curled up under a blanket, reading a book of poetry she picked up at a vintage shop. Her brown hair hung on the sides of her face, framing her perfectly. She found herself blushing.
"Okay, that's enough," Natasha snatched the camera away from her once more. She clicked through it a couple of times before shutting it off. It needed to be charged anyway. She began to rummage through her bedside table as she looked for the cable.
"Nat, those were really good, though." Wanda tried to praise the redhead, but Natasha had none. "Like insanely good!"
"Thanks, I guess…." Were they? Were they really that special? They were just snapshots and moments of her life and those around her. They were special to her, which is why she held them so close to her chest, but they could not be special to other people.
"Found the lipstick you were looking for," Natasha was presented with a distraction from the topic as a silver tube rolled around the drawer she was digging through. She held it up behind her for Wanda to take.
"Oh! Thank you," Wanda said as she took it from her. Natasha hoped it was enough to steer the conversation away from her camera.
"You're an excellent photographer, you know?" Wanda did not drop the topic.
"Thanks…" Natasha muttered as she finally found the cable. As she was about to cross the room, Wanda stopped her.
"I mean it, honey." Wanda's fingers tilted the redhead's chin upward, knowing damn well it was one of Natasha's weaknesses. Natasha swallowed as she was captivated by Wanda's chromatic eyes.
"Thank you…" she accepted the compliment with a bashful smile.
Wanda pressed her lips to Natasha's, smiling into the kiss. "If you'd like, I wanna' see more."
Natasha thought about it for a second, but all thoughts were abandoned when Wanda pressed sinful, chaste kisses to her jaw. "Aren't you supposed to be going somewhere?" she asked breathily, clinging to Wanda's lightly toned biceps.
"Arriving fashionably late is always good…." Wanda murmured into the redhead's pale skin appreciatively.
"Even when Steve is waiting for you?" Natasha retorted, sighing when Wanda trailed kisses to the pulse point in her neck.
"He's not going anywhere anytime soon." Wanda chimed back before scraping her teeth lightly against the column of Natasha's neck. The Russian finally relented and let herself be pushed back onto the bed.
"Can I pester you about your photos again?" Wanda asked as her fingers danced along Natasha's shoulder. The redhead groaned and buried her face into Wanda's neck.
They were a bit sweaty from their amorous activities, and Natasha was draped lazily over Wanda's half-naked body. She only had her shirt off, her bra-clad back exposed to the cool air of their bedroom.
"How did you get so good at them?" Wanda asked, and she picked up on the warm feeling against her shoulders incited by Natasha's blushing.
Natasha moved her head out from her burrow in Wanda's neck. "I'm not sure… it was just a hobby I picked up when I was a kid." Her nose bumped into Wanda's neck as she spoke, "I joined a photography club."
"In… Ohio?" Wanda asked nervously. Even though they had dated for the better part of four months, there were still things that were left untouched.
Natasha nodded, "In Ohio."
"Kind of cute to imagine you with a little camera in your hands…." Wanda teased, brushing a lock of hair behind Natasha's ear.
Natasha hummed as she lost herself in the memory of giving the photo strip to Yelena, "You should really go meet Steve."
Wanda groaned as she sat up, pushing Natasha off her body. "I'm going."
Natasha chuckled, watching the grumbling woman put her shirt back on. She wished she could take her camera and capture the smooth line that ran from beneath Wanda's shoulders to just above the dimples in her lower back. The thought reminded her that she had become too distracted to put the DSLR to charge. She quickly rolled away from the bed and plugged the cable into the battery pack.
"See you later," Wanda said, kissing Natasha's cheek.
"Enjoy your session with Steve," Natasha said with a smile, and Wanda rolled her eyes before she left the room.
Once Wanda left, Natasha thought about her girlfriend's genuine appreciation for her hobby. She bit her lip and stared at the DSLR charging on the bedside table.
Natasha never expected to find Yelena ever again. When she left the Red Room for SHIELD, she knew Yelena was not far from finishing her training. Natasha, in observance, had heard how Yelena was quickly advancing—snapping necks and completing missions, matching her ruthlessness and efficiency. Her former sister still had one more year left to complete by the time Natasha escaped. A sick part of her hoped Yelena would meet a more merciful end, hoped she'd slip in one of her assignments so that she would never have to unleash the power of another broken woman on the world. At least, if Yelena were dead, she would be with Melina. And they'd be able to enjoy uninterrupted time on the lake-side beach in Ohio.
So after the Avengers had their infamous dispute, just after Natasha started to refer to them as her family instead of "friends from work," she was surprised to find the same photo strip attached to the red, glowing liquid vials. A feeling of dread settled in her chest as she gazed upon two smiling faces, two completely different people from who they were at the moment.
She surmised that Yelena harboured much resentment towards her for not trying hard enough to protect her. After they had broken several items at the Budapest safe house, Natasha discovered some of her life's most devastating news. The Red Room was still active and resorted to chemical subjugation. Not only was it her fault, since Dreykov made sure no one else could escape, but it was her fault for thinking it would be over quickly. Dreykov and his operatives were like cockroaches who would run into the shadows whenever danger was near. He was smart, he was slippery but most important of all, he had won. Killing Antonia had amounted to nothing. Blowing up a five-story building and hiding out in the vents of a train station was for nothing.
Yelena should have hated Natasha more than she showed. No one had told her that everything that happened in Ohio was never real. No one had told her that if her "mother" did survive her injury, she would've died anyway due to the Red Room's no-weakness policy. Still, despite everything Natasha had inadvertently put her through, she clung to the photo strip. She prayed she'd be reunited with the only person who protected her.
When she found Melina was alive after rescuing Alexei from prison, it was like a punch to the gut. The older Widow had more lines on her face and a distinct Slavic accent that was not present during their days in Ohio. Finding out Melina had a direct hand in synthesising the Widow's subjugation serum was a kick to the ribs. Natasha had called Alexei an idiot and Melina a coward while Yelena teared up in the corner.
"Our family was never real, so… there's nothing to hold onto…." Natasha never meant for her words to come out so venomous. The lie she had told herself for years while secretly finding solace in the truth made her tongue feel thick in her mouth and her throat constricted.
Melina had looked at her longingly, almost pleadingly. Natasha nodded, effectively ignoring Melina and willing her body to accept the brutal truth. "We're moving on."
Yelena could never move on. When she retreated to a room in Melina's house, taking the bottle of vodka on the table with her as she sniffled, Natasha knew she could never move on either.
When Alexei followed Yelena, Natasha pushed away the feelings of guilt after hurting her sister once more. Widows were raised to hurt anyway. She shoved her chair back roughly and told Melina she would take down the Red Room by herself.
When Melina tried to stop her, she attempted to destroy any lasting feelings between her "mother," trying to sever any delusional connection.
"I wish I could believe that you cared. You're not even the first mother that abandoned me."
"No, you weren't abandoned…." Natasha stopped her quest, walking back over to where Melina stood. Melina recounted the events like they had meant nothing, "You were selected by a programme that assessed the genetic potential in infants."
Natasha felt like she couldn't breathe, and a faint ringing began to sound in her ears. "I was taken?" Widows did not cry. But something about the presence of Melina, the warmth of the St. Petersburg home and the earth-shattering revelation about her mother allowed for a few tears to escape.
Melina looked at her sorrowfully, reminiscent of when Natasha found their mission was completed and she'd have to return to the Red Room.
Melina recounted that Dreykov paid off her parents, a bargain was struck, and she was sold. She knew she had been fed lies for most of her life, but she didn't realise that they started before she could walk. They had told her mother abandoned her in a garbage dump. That Dreykov had saved her from dying in her infancy, keeping up the illusion that the Red Room was all she had.
Another blow to the gut, perhaps the most fatal, was when Melina told her that her mother was just as relentless as her. That Dreykov had her executed.
Whether or not she admitted it to herself, she thought about her mother every day of her life. She wanted to hate her for abandoning her, but during the cold nights in the Red Room cells, all she could think about was what her mother's voice sounded like.
Another life she could have lived. Something new was taken from her before it was even hers, to begin with.
"I've always found it best not to look into the past…." Melina said, her eyes watering too.
Natasha internally sighed, knowing that picking out any emotion from her "mother" would prove futile. It was useless to ask for comfort when the need for it had been trained out of both of them.
Then, as she looked at Melina's bookcase with tears streaming down her face, she saw it. The photo album Melina told Natasha to leave behind all those years ago, in pristine condition.
When Natasha asked Melina why she would save it in retort to the darker brunette's previous statement, the older woman's eyes only became glassier. Silence filled the room as Natasha flicked through the pages.
The staged memories polluted her mind. The smell of old fabric and the sight of two grown men and one Widow standing over them while a camera flashed wafted through her mind.
In the first picture she saw, Yelena held a chocolate bunny covered in gold foil. The little girl was only three, and Natasha surmised it didn't take much coaxing for the girl to act interested in perhaps one of the shinest and gluttonous things she's ever seen. Natasha remembers being briefly jealous of the three-year-old; at least she had gotten to hold the bunny. Natasha could only watch.
The second picture was meant to be the two smiling happily. Yelena's blue dress annoyed the little girl, and Natasha held her hand when one of the handlers yelled at her to shut up. Yelena was afraid, but Dreykov coaxed her, urging her to smile while Natasha nearly threw up. "Be a good girl and smile for the picture," he said. His voice could never sound sweet, even if he tried.
She couldn't bear to keep looking as the memory of forced smiles and unveiled threats echoed in her mind while she turned the album pages. When it came to the Christmas shoot, she focused on the empty wrapped-up boxes.
"We shot Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter and summer vacation in one day…" she said, pointing to a picture of Yelena with her thumb. "I knew all of the presents under the tree were just empty boxes, but I didn't care. I wanted to open every single one…." She sighed, shaking her head at her young foolishness.
She turned the page again and found one of the most haunting pictures from that day.
The handlers had grown tired, Dreykov was frustrated, and Yelena did not want to act cheerful. Natasha was ready to comply, but the three-year-old was tired and hot.
"For God's sake," Dreykov muttered before pulling one of the guns out from the Widow’s belt. He pointed it to Yelena, and Natasha immediately pulled the girl behind her, shielding her with her body while she cried in fear. Natasha's expression remained emotionless as she stared down the gun barrel, although her body trembled slightly.
Dreykov's jaw twitched, his expression mirroring Natasha's as the gun remained steady. "Get her to put her hands up and smile, or I'll put a bullet in both of your heads." She knew the threat possibly held no merit, but something in Natasha did not want to find out whether he lived up to his promises.
Natasha remembers nodding in compliance before shushing the blonde and telling her to be good and smile. She gave her directions on what to do, extending both of her hands above her head and smiling hauntingly. Yelena looked at her strangely at first, and it took Natasha quietly scolding her for the blonde to comply finally.
The first act of compliance would make the rest of the Red Room's manipulations work smoothly on Yelena. And Natasha would never forgive herself for it.
"I wanted it to be real, too." Melina's voice had pulled Natasha out from her trip down memory lane. "I kept it because I wished it was real every single day we were there… and every day after that."
Tears finally fell down the older woman's face. They hugged for the first time in twenty years.
She asked to borrow the photo strip from Yelena and kept it in one of the pockets of the jacket the blonde had also given her. She also asked to borrow some of the pictures in Melina's photo album, to which the brunette responded with a quizzical eyebrow. She ended up letting Natasha borrow the entire album on the condition that it remained adequately cared for. Natasha tried not to cry again at that. The deluded family she denied herself the pleasure of having was real, after all.
Natasha had nearly given up on the idea of having love and a family. Still, after she narrowly escaped Ross's car, she cut and dyed her hair bleach blonde before setting off to reunite the dysfunctional, quite literally out-of-this-world family. Luckily, Steve had broken Wanda out of jail, so all Natasha had to do was track her girlfriend down. It was relatively easy. She sighed in relief when she found the brunette hiding in a dingy motel in Scotland.
At first, they didn't recognise each other, purely because they had changed their hair colour. Wanda's hair was dyed red, while Natasha's was a blonde bob. Natasha had tracked Wanda to a local diner and wished she could capture the relief on Wanda's face when she saw her walk in.
Natasha hushed her immediately, telling her not to make a show of their reunion so that they wouldn't draw any unwanted attention. Wanda pouted, and Natasha fought hard against the urge to kiss her as they sat in the booth the auburn-haired woman occupied.
"Where did you go?" Wanda asked quietly, scanning over the blonde's features in intrigue.
Natasha shrugged, "Had to take care of some things… Sorry, it took so long."
Wanda shook her head and chuckled, "It's fine… what things?"
Natasha bit her lip and debated whether or not she would tell Wanda about the family reunion that amounted to Red Room finally gone. This time, for good. She never allowed herself the chance to mull it over, mainly because the emotionally wrought experience would be way too much to digest whilst on the run.
But Wanda always had a habit of slowing things down for her. She'd always let Natasha lay her head in her lap, stroking the long fiery waves while Natasha told her fragments of the lives she'd lived. Wanda was slow and warm like a bottle of sherry on a summer's evening and as intoxicating as the substance.
Natasha sighed, lightly scraping her fingernails over the wood of the table. "Family stuff."
Wanda's eyes narrowed as she pushed the expresso cup towards Natasha, urging the blonde to finish it for her. "What?"
"What?" Natasha shot back self-consciously, averting her gaze from the ginger-haired woman before taking a sip of the lukewarm liquid.
"Tasha… you just said 'family stuff.'" Wanda looked at her, dumbfounded.
The blonde shrugged, "Yeah, it turns out Yelena was alive, and the Red Room was still operating. I tried killing Antonia for no reason. And Yelena and all the other widows were under mind control after I left, and it turns out my pseudo-mother was in charge of it–"
"Babe," Wanda stroked Natasha's hand as she quieted the older woman's rambling. "Take a breath."
Natasha exhaled, not realising tears were starting to pool in her eyes. "Sorry…" She tried her best to wrangle the conflicting feelings inside of her. "Um, yeah…"
"Yelena's alive?"
Natasha nodded, letting go of Wanda's hand so she could move the finished expresso to the side of the table.
"And the Red Room…?"
Natasha picked at the special's menu that was sandwiched in between the salt and pepper shakers, "Was still active. Dreykov was chemically subjugating Widows after I left. Yelena was one of them, but she broke free. She found me…." Her eyes scanned the various options, and she knew she was not hungry, but she needed a way to distract her body. "We found Melina and Alexei together. We took it down for good. He's dead."
Wanda sighed, leaning back into the soft cushioning of the booth. "You've had a crazy two weeks…."
Natasha chuckled, "Enough about me, though." She placed the menu in front of her and decided it would just lay there until she needed something to fidget with. "What's been happening with you? Since the whole…." She gestured a vague circle with her fingers, not needing to explain what she meant.
"Steve broke us out of Ross's special prison. Told me to go on the run…." Wanda's eyes turned vacant and empty. "Everyone's blaming me, Nat…."
Natasha held both of Wanda's hands, doing her best to comfort the redhead discreetly. She noticed Wanda's nail polish was chipping and left little black clumps over her short nails.
"I think they're right to blame me…." Wanda murmured.
"Eрунда (Bullshit)." Wanda was thrown by Natasha's sudden use of her native tongue. She hadn't heard the deep timbre the blonde's voice adopted when she spoke the language in so long that it nearly sent her whirling. "You did your best with what you could do. Without you, thousands more people would've died. Steve would've been ashes if you didn't intervene."
"But hundreds of innocent civilians would still be alive if I didn't–"
"Wanda…." Natasha hushed her girlfriend, stroking her thumb across the woman's knuckles. Wanda looked at her, holding back a gushing river of tears.
"If I've learnt anything over the past two weeks, it's to not look into the past and nitpick our mistakes…."
Wanda nodded, sniffling and wiping her tears. "Sorry…"
"No, it's okay," Natasha said as she looked over her shoulder at a man eating a sandwich and scrolling on his phone. "I think it's better to unpack everything when we're not out in public."
Wanda chuckled and glanced at the menu in front of Natasha, "You gonna' order anything?"
"You know I always steal from your plate anyway," Natasha said cheekily. She missed Wanda even if she barely had any space to think about her during the past two weeks.
Wanda rolled her eyes and played with Natasha's fingers, "I don't know why I put up with you."
"'Cause I'm hot, and you love me."
"That I do…." Wanda said, tracing her fingers across the veins in Natasha's hand. Her eyes lit up suddenly, "Oh! I have something for you!"
Natasha perked up curiously while Wanda rummaged through the leather pouch next to her. She pulled out the DSLR and a thick envelope.
The blonde's eyes widened when Wanda gestured for her to take it. "How did you–?"
"Tony… He doesn't hate me that much anymore."
Natasha immediately flipped the LED screen up and pressed the power button. "It's dead."
"He didn't tolerate me enough to grab the charger."
Natasha flopped down next to Wanda's panting body on the sheets. Natasha's hideout motel was a lot nicer than wherever Wanda was staying. Almost immediately as they entered the room, Natasha pounced on Wanda. They were wrapped up in the sheets, Wanda writhing underneath the blonde's hands.
"God, I missed you so much," Wanda murmured before pressing a sloppy and tired kiss to Natasha's lips. "We didn't even get to you." The redhead pouted as she stroked Natasha's clothed leg.
Natasha waved her off, standing up from the bed to throw her bra off. She could only get her shirt off, too preoccupied with feeling every inch of the Sokovian's skin. She heard a gasp from the bed as she kicked off her jeans.
"Your back! Oh my God…" Wanda said, already practically leaping from the bed to dote on Natasha.
"Sweetie–"
"No, shut up. I didn't know you were beaten up this badly," Wanda scolded, holding Natasha by the back of her waist with one hand while the other traced over the big, ugly purple and green bruises on the blonde's back. Natasha winced when Wanda’s hands pressed too hard on the biggest bruise stretched over her rhomboid muscle. She used to stitch her own bullet wounds closed with a bottle of vodka, but Wanda's touch always lit her nerve endings on fire. Sometimes, it was a weakness. Other times, it was a refuge.
"It's okay. They're not that bad… you should've seen the other guy…." Natasha smirked as the redhead fussed.
Wanda tisked, "If I saw the other guy, I'd kill him myself… are you hurt anywhere else?" The redhead was already spinning Natasha around, finally tending to the healing hand-shaped bruise on her arm.
Natasha pulled her hand away, "No. I had to click my nose back into place, though," she chuckled and then frowned at Wanda's wide eyes. She never got rid of the habit of brushing off her injuries with humour.
"Jesus…" Wanda muttered as her fingers began to trace the ridge of Natasha's nose.
Natasha closed her eyes, her smile falling away into a content grin as she leaned into Wanda's touch. "I'm okay, дорогой (darling)."
"You sound so pretty when you speak Russian…." Wanda whispered as she pulled Natasha's face closer to press their lips together.
"Может, мне стоит чаще говорить по-русски. (Maybe, I should speak Russian more often.)" Natasha purred, kissing Wanda back teasingly.
Wanda groaned and pushed Natasha away, "Don't get me going again you."
Natasha giggled while she evaded Wanda's playful smack to her bottom. She walked over to the small bedside table where her DSLR sat, connected to a charging cable they quickly picked up before coming to Natasha's hideout.
"How long do we have here?" Wanda asked as she walked to the bathroom to freshen up after their amorous activities.
"We can stay the night. But I have a safer place in Norway," Natasha clicked the power button, not caring whether it had only been charged a smidge. After seeing the photo album at Melina's house, she had an idea in her head that she couldn't let go of.
Wanda appeared beside her suddenly, startling her while she scrolled through the pictures on the memory card. "You scared me."
"And I love that," Wanda said, kissing Natasha's cheek and nuzzling into her side. Going two weeks without each other's touch proved how touch-starved they were.
Natasha wanted to follow her instincts and switch the screen off, but she had to fight against it. Wanda was important to her, and she realised she'd show the Sokovian how important she was to Natasha.
"Can I… um…" she swallowed, fiddling with the strap while she spoke quietly. "I want to take some pictures of you…." she whispered.
Wanda giggled, "Thought you'd never ask…." The Sokovian was almost too ready, immediately assuming Natasha wanted to photograph her in the nude. She laid down in the middle of the bed, her legs rubbing against each other. "How do you want me?"
Natasha turned to look at her, her hair fanned out lazily against the pillow. She had a red button-up that was buttoned haphazardly, while the bottom ghosted at her thighs and gave way to the silky skin of her legs. She looked as dreamy as she always was, even while they were on the run. Wanda's presence was a dream in her life that she would always chase.
"As you are."
She unplugged the camera with one bar on the battery icon and crawled over to Wanda. She straddled the redhead's hips, and her breath hitched when she felt warm hands on her hips and thighs.
"You look gorgeous, Wanda…." Natasha leant down and whispered into the skin of her neck. "So gorgeous as you are."
Various positions, bashful smiles and camera shutters later, Natasha placed the camera on the bedside table and switched it off.
"I wanna' see!" Wanda whined, rolling over to lay across Natasha's body, the warmth of their skin mingling with each other.
Natasha shook her head as her hands found purchase on Wanda's collarbone, "Not just yet, ангел (angel)."
"Shouldn't the models see the work they did?" Wanda teased, throwing a doe-eyed look at Natasha that always made the blonde weak.
Natasha groaned, "What work? You laid there and looked cute. I'm the one who did the work. And don't look at me like that."
"Like what?" Wanda teased, grabbing Natasha's hand so she could place gentle kisses on her knuckles.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about… and I'll show you one day. Today's not that day."
Wanda knew to avoid crossing Natasha's boundaries. She was lucky enough to have Natasha be so open with her about her secret hobby. The Sokovian would never mess with only solace she had in the form of a former Russian assassin.
After that day, Natasha became more comfortable snapping random pictures of Wanda. Wanda always consented and felt a rush of affection towards the blonde whenever she saw the lens pointed in her direction. When they would leave the RV in Sæbø, Wanda encouraged the ex-assassin to bring her camera, never pushing, always nudging.
It was quite strange in hindsight. To be on the run and documenting it in such an outright way. They were never meant to enjoy it; most of the time, it was miserable. Most of the pictures in Natasha's camera roll were of empty mugs, various wide shots of the same landscape they'd been looking at for weeks, and pictures of their heater that broke a week into their stay. If Natasha didn't capture the small moments of relief, then all that would remain were the moments of rife.
She was lucky enough to get one picture of an Artic fox miles away from their RV. Wanda had hurriedly called over and pointed out of their window. Natasha got a couple of good long exposure shots and even filmed the little white creature scavenging the ground for food.
"We should feed it…." Wanda was mesmerised, gazing out of the window. With remarkable stability, Natasha panned towards the redhead, who looked into the lens and smiled.
"We can't feed it. It's wild." Natasha said, clicking the record to stop the video.
"Liho was wild," Wanda pointed out.
Natasha sighed. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate people. She just did not understand most of them. The few people she chose to call her family were people she appreciated but bordered on the line of liking. The only acceptions were Yelena and Wanda. Liho was basically a person who was trapped inside a black cat's body. She was as clingy as a person could be and was just as selfish as most people. She loved the cat anyway, especially since the small creature would often curl up with her on bad nights when she couldn't close her eyes. She went to the ends of the Earth to save Liho from an undercover Hydra operation, and the feline would do her best to meet in the middle. To say she missed the black cat was an understatement. It crushed her to not see those golden eyes peer back at her in the middle of the night. Wanda was the love of her life, but she'd give anything to have her dysfunctional family back.
She had to leave Liho behind at the Compound, hoping Tony or Vision, maybe even Friday would care for the cat. She had to hope and pray that one day she'd be back. One day she could pick Liho up, inhale the sweet pheromones that cats give off at their neck, and tell the touch-starved yet evasive cat about her and Wanda's adventures.
Wanda noticed that Natasha was gazing off into the distance long after the fox had disappeared.
"You okay?"
Natasha's jaw tensed. Being on the run was starting to get to both of them, teetering off the edge of sanity. Tears fell down her face in quick succession.
"I miss Liho," she nearly whined like a small child. She wanted her stupid cat so badly.
"It's okay…." Wanda wrapped her arms around the blonde, whose hair was already showing shades of red at the roots. "I miss her too."
Wanda and Liho had an unlikely friendship, according to Natasha. The cat would bother the Sokovian for food or attention whenever Natasha wasn't around. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't jealous. Still, it gave her immense comfort to know that two of her life's three most important living things had a good relationship.
"It was too hard to take her with me…." Natasha whispered into Wanda's shoulder. "I should've tried… what if I never see her again? What if she–"
"Don't say that… we're going to see her," Wanda cooed, rocking the blonde back and forth as they curled into each other on the couch. "She'll get to see you, and you'll go right back to complaining about her stealing all of your hair ties."
Natasha chuckled as she wiped her face in the crook of Wanda's shoulder, "She's always going to be a little shit. But she's our little shit."
When Natasha pulled away and sighed, Wanda suddenly had an idea when she realised Natasha was still holding her camera. "Don't you have pictures of her?"
Natasha thought for a moment, "Yeah. On that hard drive…." She moved quickly from the couch to the surface that served as the kitchen counter where her laptop was. She booted up the device, already linked to the hard drive Wanda had given her. The Sokovian ensured she'd pestered Tony enough to get the hard drive from Natasha's desk in the compound.
The device held all the photos Natasha had taken over the years, and its sole purpose was to hold the memories for her when her life was heavy enough. She scrolled through ever-winding snippets of her life, flashes of Clint, Lila, Laura, and Wanda, until she settled on a folder labelled 'Void.' She was in the middle of trying to organise the mess of photos when the Accords were brought up. She never had the energy to continue after that.
"Found 'em," she said in victory, and Wanda ushered her over. They leaned over the counter as Natasha finally showed the Sokovian some of the pictures.
"She's the sweetest little thing," Wanda said as she looked at a picture of Liho gazing out the window on their shared floor. The photo was beautiful and had Natasha written all over it.
The photo was taken from the side. Liho was poised, sitting straight with her tail wrapped around her body. Small flecks of orange could be seen around her mouth since she'd just devoured some of the chicken-flavoured wet food that Natasha always went out of her way to get for the spoiled brat. Her golden green eyes were focused on a bird happily fluttering about on the grass of the compound's lawn. Her pupils were thin, small slits in the sea of amber.
"What're you going to do with all of these pictures?" Wanda asked as Natasha continued scrolling to find some of her best ones.
Natasha shrugged, "Maybe I'll make a small album… I borrowed the one from when we were kids from Melina."
"Oh, my God!" Wanda squeaked, causing Natasha to flinch. "Can I see it? Please can I see baby Natasha?" The Sokovian had the same doe-eyed look on her face, and Natasha was glad she had captured that look many times on her little camera.
She rolled her eyes, "I wasn't a baby… I was eight or so."
"Pleeease." It was evident that Wanda was becoming bored of their idyllic little trailer life. She stopped devouring the same sitcoms two days, complaining that her eyes started hurting from staring at Natasha's laptop. She needed something to entertain her.
"Okay, okay… You're so annoying." Natasha muttered as she walked away from their laptop to the bedroom, which was becoming increasingly messier each day. Clothes were everywhere, and they needed to do a laundry run sooner or later before they ended up walking around the RV in bathing suits.
She reached under the bed and pulled out her backpack, reaching into it to find the thick album covered with a flower field that was wearing at the edges. She winced. Melina would not be pleased.
She came back to find Wanda leaning against the counter impatiently. The laptop remained untouched, a silent agreement between the two.
Natasha passed the album to Wanda, "Most of them were taken in the Red Room."
Wanda opened the album to the first page and saw a blonde girl holding a Lindt bunny. "Is this–"
"Yeah…" Natasha said, this time without a hint of sadness. Pride dripped from her tone. Yelena was safe, leading freed Widows to free more and more. Yelena had grown up ruthlessly and covered in blood, just like Natasha, but she came out of it still liking Mac 'n Cheese.
Wanda smiled softly as she scanned over the pages, her finger tracing the edge. "Where is she now?"
"Just left Sri Lanka. She's on her way to Tokyo."
"How many has she freed now?" Wanda asked, her gaze never tearing away from the little girls with fake smiles on the page in front of her.
"I think six. Not counting the ones that were freed at the Red Room."
They fell into a comfortable silence for a while as Wanda turned the pages. Her eyes settled on a picture of baby Yelena holding a yellow box while eight-year-old Natasha bent down and whispered something to her. "You were always such a sweetheart, weren't you?"
Natasha shook her head, "I don't think sweet was what was captured there… There was a gun pointed at us at that point."
Wanda looked at Natasha, sorrow overflowing her features. "Nat…" Her tone was something that only came out when the Sokovian was close to crying. The 't' at the end of the nickname fell off her tongue with grief.
The blonde shook her head, "It's fine… I mean, it's not." She swallowed, recuperating from the invasive memory of Yelena's terrified eyes staring up at her like she was lost at sea while Natasha held a broken compass. "But we're safe. We're all safe now."
The photos brought her a bittersweet feeling—a shared trauma. But at least they reminded her of Peace Lillies that sprouted despite the violence and abandonment. For once, "safe" wasn't a delusional, empty word she recounted to herself to ease her mind. For once, it was true. One day, her and Wanda would be safe, too.
For now, though, they sat in the chilly RV, silently looking through the photo album as Natasha leaned against the Sokovian's shoulder. She had what she had when she had it.
It took nearly two years in hiding before some of the heat died, and Ross renegotiated the terms of Wanda and Natasha's terms of the arrest. They'd be under house arrest like Clint and weren't permitted to leave the compound unless the Avengers were called into action. They'd have to remain there until the UN decided their form of justice. Wanda and Natasha were just glad they were going home.
It took Mason two weeks to surprise them with a proper form of transportation. The quinjet landed on the compound's hangar, and Wanda nearly sobbed with relief.
Tony finally let go of his grievances, opting to pull the both of them into an awkward hug instead of speaking.
"Did you kill my cat and find a replacement?" Natasha asked as Tony led them back into the compound.
Tony laughed, "I didn't. I came close a couple of times. But I decided to keep her alive so my two favourite fugitives wouldn't decapitate me upon arrival." It was the billionaire's weird, cryptic, sarcastic way of saying he was happy they were back home.
The pair was going to make a beeline to their floor when Tony stopped them, "There's something waiting for you in the kitchen."
Wanda looked at Natasha curiously, who just shrugged as they followed Tony to the compound's kitchen-dining room area.
Natasha held back laughter as she heard a cacophony of chatter before hushed whispers and excited silence came from down the hallway as they made their way to the kitchen.
They both flinched when a group of people yelled at their arrival, something that sounded like it was supposed to be "Surprise!" but was just a collection of squeals and cheers.
Natasha nearly stopped breathing altogether as she looked at the room full of the people she tolerated. Wanda immediately left her side to hug everyone in the room, swaying as they exclaimed how excited they were. All Natasha could do was stare in disbelief.
Steve, Sam, Fury, Maria, Bruce, Scott, and Thor all stood, gathered in a group while the room was decorated in white streamers and soft music played. More surprisingly, Laura and Clint stood to the side and smiled affectionately at Natasha. Laura was holding Liho in her arms. The spell nearly broke when she saw Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel run towards her. Nathaniel, who must have been about six or seven by now, ran to her first, and she picked him up with the giant swivel of her arms.
"Aunty Nat!" Lila exclaimed as she and Cooper were engulfed in a death grip of a hug. Natasha let a few tears escape as she realised Lila had just turned nine a few months ago, and she was never there to celebrate. Cooper looked a lot bigger since she had last seen him.
Laura came over quickly, letting Clint take Liho, who immediately jumped out of the archer's arms. "Come now, don't smuggle your aunt to death," Laura said as she pried the kids away from Natasha.
"That's my job!" Laura said sneakily as she pulled Natasha into another bone-crushing hug. "Nice hair… we missed you so much, Nat." Natasha let a few more tears escape her.
When Natasha let go of Laura, all eyes were on her as she stood in the doorway, holding onto Laura's hand. She took them all in, Wanda just coming out of an embrace with Thor and giving her a look of concern. Natasha just nodded and smiled as the knot in her throat finally released. A happy sob erupted from her chest, and she couldn't give two fucks about how everyone was watching her cry. She was finally home with the people who felt like home.
She felt a soft presence against her foot and looked down, delighted at Liho, who pawed at her calf. She lifted the cat into her arms and immediately annoyed the small feline with the number of kisses she placed on her small, black head. Eventually, Liho was squirming, and Natasha relented, allowing Liho to run away again.
During the course of the reunion, she found that Laura and Clint had moved to the compound temporarily since their home was under construction. Clint had argued that house arrest should occur at home and home could be anywhere as long as he's with his family. Needless to say, Ross was due for another triple bypass soon.
Fury had scolded the pair at first, causing Wanda and Natasha to hang their heads in shame. When Maria started snorting in derisive laughter, Natasha looked up to see Fury's smirk.
Wanda smiled every time Natasha pulled her camera out unashamedly as she took pictures of the entire evening. At some point, she saw Natasha on the couch with Nathaniel in her lap as she showed him which buttons to press to take a picture.
At around 10pm, the kids were tuckered out and put to bed while the rest of the adults stayed to continue the welcome home party. They were all squished together on the couches in the lounge area, drinks were all around, and some people were sitting on the floor in front of the giant coffee table. Natasha had to get pictures of Fury, who fell asleep on the couch's corner, his eye patch riding up his face.
"Romanoff, put that camera down. We have one last surprise for you…." Clint said as he set his drink down on the counter, tucking the phone he was previously looking at in his pocket. "Close your eyes."
At that moment, Natasha had almost everything she could've wanted and wondered what more the group could have in store for them. She rolled her eyes, resting her forehead against Wanda's bicep since the Sokovian was sitting on her lap.
After a few moments of waiting in her own darkness, she noticed a faint lull in the buzzing conversation before it returned to normal. She tried to estimate who or what had just walked into the room but couldn't hear any footsteps other than Clint's.
"Okay… open," she heard Clint say. She felt Wanda move off her lap quickly, and when she opened her eyes, she burst into tears once again.
"Hey, poser," Yelena had her hands tucked into her army print pants. She nodded towards the group of people. "... poser's friends."
Natasha dashed across the room, nearly taking Maria's head off before she wrapped her arms around her younger sister. "как ты здесь? (How are you here?)"
"I was in Pennsylvania… Mason told me you were coming back. I had to see you after nearly two years– can you let go of me now?" Yelena grumbled, still sticking to the annoying little sister act.
"Sorry…" Natasha quickly let her go, taking in the sight of Yelena. It was a hard habit to break. It was second nature to scan over the younger Widow's body, checking for injury. She found Yelena doing the same to her.
A cough interrupted them from their little bubble, and Natasha quickly straightened up, turning to the crowd of people. "This is… this is my sister. Yelena."
Yelena gave a shy small wave to the group, who all reacted differently to the news.
"You have a sister?" Sam asked, flabbergasted.
Natasha nodded, walking back towards them with Yelena in tow. "Yes." She remembered the days when she would deny it and explain the entire story of how they were never really real sisters. But it was real. All of it was real. There was no point in denying it.
"They're all staring…." Yelena remarked out loud. "Do I have something on my face?"
"No… you're good…" Steve said, clearing his throat. "We just didn't know Nat had a sister. Then you walk in."
Yelena chortled, "Well, I exist. And I plan to make up for all the years I missed out on by annoying the shit out of her." The blonde punctuated her statement by shoving Natasha slightly.
Natasha rolled her eyes, "You can leave now," she joked as she walked towards Wanda, who was sitting in the same spot Natasha was sitting in.
The attention was still on the sisters, like everyone was watching a lion and a tiger interact with each other.
Wanda moved from her place and crossed over to greet Yelena.
"Hi, Yelena. I'm Wanda. Nat told me–"
"This is Wanda?!" Yelena's exclamation startled the Sokovian. She immediately pulled the redhead into a hug, and Wanda's eyes were wide in embarrassment. "I'm gonna' give you the little sister talk later, but thanks for looking out for her. She's stubborn, isn't she?"
The room chuckled, and Natasha looked at them with a sour look on her face.
"Like a bull," Wanda joked with a smile.
Yelena studied Wanda's face for a moment, her brows narrowing. Wanda paled at the possibility of getting off on the wrong foot with Natasha's little sister.
The blonde looked towards Natasha and smirked before turning back to Wanda. "Wanda Maximoff, you are so funny. I like you!"
The tension in the room finally broke, and everyone returned to their respective conversations. Yelena settled on the floor in front of Natasha and Wanda.
Natasha felt safe enough with the team finally knowing about Yelena. She was happy to see Wanda and Yelena get along so well. Twenty-three years ago, the little girls in the shipping container would have never guessed that they'd end up where they are now.
Natasha made sure to document the moment in every way she could, especially since Yelena and Wanda started holding a drinking competition. Wanda had lost like she had expected, and Natasha had to carry her back to their shared floor.
Yelena had left again, smothering her in a giant hug before teasing Natasha about her hair colour. Fury and Maria left, too, leaving the rest of the residents of the Avengers compound to retreat to their floors.
Her family was together again, and it sounded like some sort of sick fantasy that had somehow come true. As she lay in bed that night, next to Wanda's passed-out form, she wondered if it would all be taken away from her again. The world had a knack for giving her glimpses of happiness and then prying it away from her hands before she could even truly appreciate it.
She stared at Wanda's face while she mulled over the possibilities. She decided that she would have to do it now, or it would never be done. While she still had them, she had to show her family how much she loved tolerated them. She had to cling to them before the universe could wash it all away like violent waves at the seashore.
Liho purred at her feet while she thought of how she would do it. She couldn't think of a more perfect way than to tell the people who felt at home that she appreciated them through the power she had learnt of when she was just eight years old. Something stronger than any other weapon she wielded.