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After much talking and negotiating, endless hours of logistics and planning, Clint finally caved and grudgingly allowed Tony to speak with the Black Widow. Clint insisted on being in the room as their first human line of defense. Phil was holding Tony, Hulk was next to them, and they were as secure as they would get. If anything happened, Phil would get Tony out of the room and leave Clint to handle it, but the goal was for nothing to happen.
“Hello,” said Tony, waving at the Black Widow from the safety of his father’s arms after Phil had finished explaining the rules of speaking with Tony. “I’m Tony.”
“Hello,” said the Black Widow politely, inclining her head slightly at the young boy.
“Daddy says you’re an assassin,” said Tony matter-of-factly. “That means you kill people for a living, right?”
“Yes,” said the Black Widow. “Does that bother you?”
“You’re not killing people right now,” said Tony. “Why do you kill people?”
“Because I was trained to do that since I was a child,” said the Black Widow. She liked the young boy – he wasn’t trying to lie to her and he didn’t seem coached to get her secrets, just curious. “I kill who I was told to kill.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
The Black Widow paused. She had never been asked what she wanted to do, she had always been told. In an abstract way, she knew there were options, other things she could so with her time if she wanted, but she had never given it any real thought.
“I don’t know,” said Natasha after a moment.
Clint watched as confusion flickered across the young woman’s face and felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He had been like her – maybe not quite as far gone, but still in a similar position at one point in time, and he knew where she was coming from in her confusion. In that job, you had to focus on the job alone and everything else faded away until it was some sort of vague dream on the side.
“Maybe you want to try just being a spy,” suggested Tony. “You know, not killing the people, just getting their secrets. That could be a good start. Then, while you’re doing that, you can figure out what you really want to do. Spies get to see all sorts of jobs and people – that what Daddy says at least – so you could sorta try those jobs out and then make up your mind!”
Tony was getting more excited about the idea as he thought about it. Being a spy would be so cool.
“Papa, can I be a spy?” asked Tony, looking at his father who was holding him.
“If that’s what you decide you want to be,” said Phil, hiding his cringe at the idea of his boy doing a job he personally sees the danger in every day. “You can do pretty much anything you want.”
“That’s what I thought,” said Tony, nodding to himself before turning back to Natasha. “I don’t think I want to be a spy. I’m going to build things!”
“That sounds like fun,” said Natasha, unsure of how to respond to the enthusiasm of the kid but not wanting to disappoint someone who seemed to like her – not lust after her, want to use her, or be scared of her.
“Are you going to stay?” asked Tony, his voice suddenly going soft, leaning his head against Phil’s shoulder, one hand playing with the tie, suddenly looking self-conscious. “Everyone always leaves.”
Natasha studied the boy and had to wonder what had he experienced so far in his short life that made him so afraid of losing someone he just met. From her understanding, children were supposed to be selfish, demanding, and expectant. They needed to be provided for because they couldn’t do it themselves, so to have one so unsure that he would have people to provide for him at such a young age would have broken her heart if she had one. As it was, she felt something flutter uncomfortably in her chest – perhaps she was growing a heart? Could one even regrow a heart?
“I’ll stay,” said Natasha softly.
“You’ll have to meet with Dr. Bruce then,” said Tony, sounding hopeful but still unsure. “He’s really nice. He helps people with their heads when they’ve seen bad things and can’t sort them out.”
“I don’t need a doctor,” said Natasha, eyes narrowing at Phil. The agent had already told her she would have to see a doctor if she wanted to be cleared for active duty here.
“I see Dr. Bruce,” said Tony quietly.
“You?” said Natasha, surprised. “What could you need to see a doctor for?”
“My parents died in a car accident,” said Tony. “I was stuck in the car with them for days before anyone found us. Then people kept returning me on account of me being difficult. Dr. Bruce says I have separation anxiety and get attacks. That’s why I have Hulk, so he can cuddle me when I’m sad and can’t stop being sad. I’m not crazy.”
The last part was said so softly, so uncertainly, that Natasha almost missed it. But she heard it and in that instant she knew that she was going to do everything in her power to be there and protect this child. If that meant going to see this Dr. Bruce, then she would do it. If that meant suffering through numerous evaluations, she would do it. If that meant – and it certainly did – gaining the trust of this Agent Coulson and Agent Barton then she would stop at nothing to do that because Tony had suffered enough for one lifetime. And then, when she was cleared for active duty, she would find all of the people who had hurt the boy and find out what type of monsters they were – because they could be nothing short of monsters to make such a smart little boy feel like he was nothing more than a bothersome object to be returned when he was no longer fun. And Natasha knew monsters – she was one, after all.