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”Either of you fellas know where I could find the Smithsonian? I’m supposed to pick up a fossil.”
Steve had noticed the black Corvette pulling up too close for comfort but had refused to take a look behind, somehow sensing leisure time was up. With the familiar deep voice calling out to him, there was no sense ignoring it.
He spotted the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on the side of the car even before the gleam of the driver’s fiery red hair caught his eye. The combination came with a hint of surprise. So they had settled their differences.
“Can’t run everywhere.” He nodded goodbye to the stranger he’d met just a few minutes ago and opened the passenger door without thinking about it twice.
They wouldn’t be calling him in if it wasn’t urgent- she wouldn’t be in if shit had not hit fan already. Whatever feelings towards a certain government organisation Steve was struggling with after the events of New York, in the light of upcoming battle they had to rest.
Watching the lean dark silhouette of his running partner disappearing, he had a funny feeling he had not seen Samuel Wilson for the last time. Probably they were in for another morning workout once Steve would be back… if he would be back. After whatever thing required the skills of a war relic this time.
“What’s the story?”
Fury, hardly moving in the shadows of the toned windows, startled, turning his troubled and absent-minded gaze to him. Had he actually expected Steve not to know he was there?
“We’ll talk about it once we reach the local base.”
Of course.
Steve was too tired of half-hearted answers from this man to argue.
Not willing to spend the rest of the drive with uncomfortable silence anyway, he turned to his teammate, crooking a shy smile, testing the mood. With Natasha you never knew if she was about to crack a joke or your neck if you made it to piss her off enough. And it had been too long.
“You hanging in there alright?” A quick check out of curiosity and routine left him with a frown.
The tight leather jacket hugging her form was at least a size smaller than he remembered, and her cheeks were not only hollow but an unhealthy shade of pale, even more in the intense afternoon sunlight.
“Things have been a bit rougher since New York,” she rolled her eyes a little, letting him know she didn’t care much for concern, “and they’re about to get rougher still.”
Her voice softened with the last words, this distant expression in her intensive green eyes for a moment turning into understanding, sympathy even, when their eyes met in the back mirror.
Suddenly Steve wasn’t so sure he wanted to know what was wrong. Or that he could at least wait till they reached the base indeed.
At another quick side glance, to memorize the route Natasha chose, he realized something else that was new. His throat tightened when he caught what it was that she was wearing around hers. It could have been a coincidence - how much did he really know about her? Maybe even someone whose daily profession involved killing and torture, liked to dress up casually with some bling.
Only it wasn’t some throwaway charm. It had the unmistakable shape of a thin arrow, nearly invisible on a silver chain just as thin.
Again their eyes met in the mirror. This time hers clearly asked him not to speak up.
But she made no move to hide the necklace under her shirt either.
They had another few minutes to wait in the conference room while Fury held a last meeting with Sitwell. The establishing com connection on the holo screen in the middle of the room indicated they would have well-known company. Apparently, Fury sought advice from their team members residing at Stark Tower.
If Steve wanted to know, he had to ask now. There probably wouldn’t be time once they were set for their mission.
And Natasha wouldn’t talk once Stark would be listening.
“Have you heard from him?”
“Not since that package arrived,” Natasha traced the outline of the charm with just a fingertip as if afraid to touch it, “right after New York,” she added, seeing the next question coming.
Nearly a year. Steve felt a familiar urge of anger forming inside of him. It would have been too easy saying it wasn’t his business.
“So has anyone ever been looking for him?”
“There’s no use. I know when he doesn’t want to be found. And S.H.I.E.L.D….” Natasha turned her head to Nick and Sitwell caught in their fiery debate, crossing her arms in an uncomfortable manner. She felt about as much right and welcomed in this building as Steve.
“They wouldn’t approve. For them, the file Hawkeye is a closed case.”
“‘But for you it's not, is it?”
It was hard to picture, this team that had worked together so well when a whole alien race had tried to destroy this planet, not ever being complete again. That low pressure in Steve’s stomach returned, reminding him to bring the subject up, later, to let Fury know what he thought about a leader giving up on his most worthy soldiers when they needed most support.
Only S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t lead this whole Avengers thing. He did.
Maybe he had gone under for too long.
“There’s no sense in pushing,” Natasha stopped him before he had even raised his voice, “I tried, right after. He didn’t let me in.
Now… it seems he doesn’t want to be back at all. There were reports of shootings in Greenland lately, of wars between hunters and cities abandoned. It’s possible we never see him again.” The full line of her lips tightened visibly for a moment, this possibility that she obviously tried to get used to showing in nothing but that blank, lost stare, interrupting an ever lasting focus. “Either way… Maybe it’s better. He doesn’t have any kind of future with S.H.I.E.L.D….”
“I didn’t ask you about S.H.I.E.L.D..”
Natasha’s jawline tightened even more. The short moment of weakness, of letting Steve in, was over already. And wasn’t she right to? It really was not his business. He knew nothing about his team members when it came to it. They all still knew shit about each other. Natasha obviously wasn’t in a mood to change that.
“As I said… maybe it’s better. We’ve never been good for each other.”
“Still, you’re wearing this.” Steve suddenly had a hard time hiding his smile. He wondered if she knew, If she had ever seen herself talking about this man she was so close to. He didn’t think so.
Natasha made a show of a dramatic shrug, lifting her chin a little higher. “It’s just a memory.”
“I don’t think so.” Steve shortly reached for her arm under the table, offering a last, soothing motion of support when the others entered. They’d talk about it, later. For now, they had a job to do.
And maybe during whatever was to come, the call of home would not only reach him.
You couldn’t run everywhere.
“I’d say it’s a beacon. Don’t you dare take it off, Romanoff.”
For a moment she looked like she was about to either stab him with her pen or empty her glass of water on his head but then she settled for a resigned sigh and closed the zipper of her jacket. “Just don’t tell Stark.”
Steve just grinned.
Now that he thought about it - he’d missed these guys.