i can't reach you anymore.

By the time that Natasha had exposed all of Hydra's infestation of SHIELD by releasing everything to the world, he'd already learned to trust not only in her sound judgment, but what she was also fighting for right alongside him. If he longed to learn her past, he'd rather do it face to face than through a file full of redactions and government lies------------ progress for him after originally thinking that she wore too many masks, relied upon one too many manipulations.

"Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything," Fury had once said, prompting a deeper concern that she wouldn't flinch at the corruption inside in need of burning down, literally. After all, who the hell was exactly comfortable with everything? But, no, in actuality that wasn't who Natasha Romanoff was, Fury had been wrong. She wasn't emotionally numb, just hardened by her experiences and trained to survive in a world that had taken advantage of her every cruel opportunity it got. ...And when SHIELD fell, Steve had stopped questioning her beliefs and motives entirely.

She was no longer a pawn to be moved solely for 'the mission' anymore, and neither was he.

Then came the Red Room, and the Widows----------------- the kind of pain that was relentless in its permanence. Steve had wanted to help her through it, but it didn't shock him to learn she'd been dealing with it on her own. That was how she moved through seemingly goddamn everything: from being so mysterious, stubborn, wrapped up tight. Even so, he found himself leaning in anyway, offering that grounding warmth of his, a reminder that she didn't have to hold everything by herself anymore. Not with the rest of them beside her. Not now that the Avengers were her family.

If she wasn't in possession of any useable intel herself, then this wasn't going to resolve anytime soon. Still, impatience kept rising in him, and he forced it down. This was sensitive terrain for Natasha, and he wouldn't drag her through it... though the alternative wasn't looking much better. Going around her meant talking to Yelena, which almost guaranteed Alexei barreling into the conversation, and Steve didn't care for Alexei---------------- not personally, and definitely not professionally. The man was obsessed with the idea of heroics more than the actual work itself, and even more obsessed with getting Steve to fight him. Some outdated USA-versus-Russia fantasy that made zero sense to Steve, especially after partnering with Natasha. All that nonsense had long stopped mattering to him.

"Well… I'm not exactly the guy who assembles the team anymore," he said, the humor in his voice making it clear he wasn't pining for the old days. Truth was, he'd been glad to set the shield down, because he'd never cared about being the government's show pony or the guy they kept shoving into the spotlight, no matter what Bucky used to say about him 'always having something to prove.' Mostly, he'd just gotten furious about the right things. Righteously furious. And hearing Yelena say Red Room had hit him like a punch to the ribs. He didn't expect Natasha or Yelena to ever simply walk away from that past while the people responsible were still out there hurting others, so he needed to be involved, needed to feel like he could stand between her and whatever might come for her next. Didn't know the full horror of the Red Room, either, but he didn't have to. That place earned its destruction, and the people who ran it deserved whatever justice had finally caught up to them.

"And I didn't wanna step on your evening. Or on things that aren't really my business."

On the hill ahead, a little girl in a tiny Black Widow suit came cartwheeling over the ridge, messy red wig bouncing, foam stingers strapped to her wrists as she tried her absolute hardest to mimic Natasha's acrobatics. She over-rotated, tumbled into a pile of leaves, and popped back up with the triumphant confidence only a kid in costume could summon.

Steve's chest warmed instantly. Cute didn't even begin to cover it.

And it reminded him that Natasha did move like that, all quick, fluid, efficient as any blade. Where he swung heavy and broad, she slipped in real snappy and precise. Where he bulldozed through, she found the seam and cut cleanly. Two completely different styles, somehow fitting together like they'd been built to cover each other's blind spots. He admired it every damn time.

Moments full of kids in costumes, laughter on the wind, easy joy in the park, were the exact kind of peace they kept throwing themselves into danger for. Kept fighting for. And Steve… he didn't know how to stop. Didn't want to. Had long accepted he was more ready to die at Natasha's side than settle down somewhere quiet with a wife and kids. That was the truth he could finally name. He was never going to be the man Peggy needed back then… and he wasn't going to be with--------

He looked down at Natasha and saw it, that little glance away which was a subtle cue that something was off. Red Room. He hadn't expected her to be comfortable with this conversation, and she was probably keeping details from him, too. Maybe she really didn't want his help, and that was also fine. Steve wouldn't let himself be completely shut out, but he could respect her feelings.

The corner of his eye caught her profile: dusty pink of her cheek in the crisp fall air, soft point of her nose, her strawberry lips kissing at the very corner of her cup, tasting probably deliciously of chocolate.

Focus, man.

there was a hint of a breath of a laugh that escaped her lips at steve's words. he always seemingly had an air about him that made her feel like she could just... relax, even just a bit. " believe me, i know you're not that guy anymore. but you're still here for me, so i just figured something was going on and no one could reach me, that's all. " but it wasn't like her phone was going off, which brought her back to her mental thread of steve just being here for her. which was something she didn't really know how to explain or come to terms with. then again, she still could just be overthinking it. they had been friends for what felt like forever, it made sense that he was here.

when steve seemingly was distracted, she followed his line of sight to a young girl dressed as black widow. it was still jarring to her that people looked up to her, that people idolized her. she knew what information was out there for people to read, and while she was well aware that some people hated her and wished she was in prison somewhere, it still warmed her to see that people didn't think she was just some... trained killer. to them, she was just a hero that was worthy of being on the side of a lunchbox, not the version of herself she had in her mind. it was a thought that was hard to swallow sometimes, especially in the midst of a conversation about a topic that her and steve were in.

i'd be gone too, if you were.

something in her twisted at the words. steve's loyalty to the team, to everyone, was admirable. it always had been.

she looked to him at his words then, furrowing her brows at his question. " alexei? absolutely not. " there was a slight scoff then, shaking her head for a moment before distracting herself with her drink in her hands. her thumb played with the plastic lid of the cup, bending the plastic slightly. " i don't trust him and i don't want him getting involved, not again. maybe yelena does, but - " was she really about to get into all of this with steve right now? in a location like this, completely out in the open? and what did she even feel was necessary to share?

" i work better on my own, anyway. i obviously want yelena's input, but she's busy with other things. she doesn't have time to dedicate to going dark and getting the information i need. " which didn't leave that many people to help her. realistically, it left steve. but steve would have been her first choice of getting help from, anyway.

" look, you may have said you don't want to step on things that aren't your business, but... " she shrugged. " when we were on the run forever ago and i took down the red room with yelena, i contemplated finding you first. " an honest admission, one that was probably a bit too honest, but still. " i knew you'd be able to help, but i didn't know if i wanted to rope you into things with my past. not because i didn't trust you, " she immediately clarified, looking to him. " just the people. alexei specifically. he probably would have sabotaged everything if you were there, so it was probably for the best. " she huffed out a breath, pausing for just a moment. she always felt incredibly calm. collected. so sure of herself. but around steve sometimes, she felt like she just thought too much and talked herself in circles at the most inopportune times.

" ... anyway, i decided it was too risky with ross looking for the both of us. i didn't even know how to track you down at first. i did it on my own and found you after, but it's not like i haven't already thought about involving you in stuff like this, steve. " it was something she hadn't even really admitted to herself in a long time - a small secret that she'd tucked within the chambers of her mind that would have sat there and collected dust if not for this conversation. a small crack into the inner workings of who she was.

it was a moment of vulnerability she wasn't even aware she was going to have until she had it. an admission that was real, yet it felt like it was pulling at a part of her that steve always seemed to tug at. something beneath the surface of the hard exterior she tried to keep up. still, she swallowed it, attempting to focus back on the conversation. did she want steve getting involved in this now? maybe not to the full extent, but she wasn't sure if she had a choice. and if steve was still here, and entertaining this conversation, clearly that spoke enough to his willingness and desire to help at least even a fraction. and if he was just entertaining the conversation, then she'd try to give him an out.

" i do have some locations that i've pulled up. by this point, they're old leads, but it's something worth looking into. " she looked to him then, trying to search in his expression for something that was opposed to any of this. for something that could show her what was beneath the surface of his thoughts. " there's some activity outside of moscow. i have some threads that i could pull in vienna or madripoor, too. " the hard part was that there wasn't just one centralized location that she could point to --- it seemed like there were plenty of things festering around the world, which she knew after she'd stolen all of the intel from dreykov's archives and given a copy to yelena what felt like forever ago.

The problem, of course, was that Steve hadn't navigated a relationship conversation of his own in goddamn ages. Realized he was skirting round the core issue, but he couldn't necessarily pull back now that he'd grown so comfortable with dodging his most complex matters of the heart. His tongue felt heavy, his useless heart hammering like it was trying to crawl up his throat, and, across from him at the island counter, Natasha was looking unfairly gorgeous, even with the sleep clinging to her sleek eyes. But then--------------- then the loud thudding of approaching footfalls burst their bubble of simmering tension turned incredibly blatant, in the way that tension only between Nat and Steve could, and Bucky was now in the kitchen, making an obnoxious beeline for the fridge. "Sam asleep?" he grumbled after grabbing a fresh bottle of beer, promptly snapping the cap right off.

...And it's so jarring to be interrupted in such an abrupt and casual manner that Steve could only stare with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth in utter disbelief. Bucky returned the look with his usual rough, indifferent gaze, sipping his beer before muttering, "What?" Anyone in the room could have picked up on the strong tension, but none of it was unfamiliar to Bucky. He'd seen plenty of Steve-and-Natasha standoffs and dismissed them as two idiots stubbornly denying what was staring them right in the face. Which explains the next question, delivered with perfect bluntness: "Thought you were on a date. What're you doin' here, Steve?"

"I live here, jerk," Steve shot back without thinking, already knowing what Bucky was implying------------- that he'd played it too safe instead of going home with a pretty dame tonight. But he didn't have the will to argue right now, not with his thoughts looping endlessly around Natasha. He poured himself a cup of tea, retreated to his room, and tried to move fast enough to ignore the smirk Bucky was definitely shooting at his retreating back.

Natasha shouldn't have haunted him that night, and yet she did. Inescapably so.

I think you have some very romanticized version of me in your mind.

How could he not? From the moment he'd woken up in the new century, he'd been amazed by her; a woman hardened by necessity, yet possessing a deep, guarded capacity to care, especially for him. When he heard her voice speak of trust, a startling bliss had pooled in his chest and his heart inexplicably lifted. He'd known she had ultimately placed her full faith in him, and he had always attributed that to their mission, to the job of saving people. ...But if he allowed himself to consider that she had spoken of him with such reverence? Then it meant that trust had, at least once before, crossed over the line into romantic intent.

Truthfully, he felt lost, his heart and mind in private turmoil even as he dutifully texted Emma to confirm that she'd arrived home safely. When the sun came up, the self-deception had to end; he needed to stop manipulating his own feelings regarding Natasha. She was an incredible woman, that much was universally known, yet, just as he did the last time he felt love, he was falling stagnant, utterly unable to believe that such affection could ever be reserved for him. Nothing was worth the risk of losing her-------------- the single person who had helped him to find his footing and stability in this new world.

To banish the thoughts, Steve worked out, hard. His regimen started from early morning runs before the sun crested the horizon to viciously beating his favorite heavy bag in the tower's gym. He trained until he was completely exhausted, then woke up and repeated the cycle. Though the holidays were here, Sam and Buck were forced to deploy for a mission in South America to recover some pieces of alien tech stolen by smugglers, and Steve had failed at noticing their immediate absence as he was deep in the gym again, whaling on the heavy bag, his knuckle wrappings beginning to tear and his shirt entirely soaked. He registered the sound of movement, but didn't stop until Yelena and Ava were standing directly in front of him, decked out fully in Halloween costume. Ava was easy to place as a vampire, but Yelena, covered head-to-toe in a creepy ghost mask, was recognizable only by her voice and short stature.

"This is boring. Don't you want to go out and celebrate Halloween like the rest of us?"

Steve caught the bag mid-swing, letting out a breathy chuckle. "Would love to, but I'm kinda being ghosted by Emma at the moment."

"I didn't know Captain America could get ghosted," Ava said flatly.

"I'm not---------"

"He's not Captain America, it's Sam now," Yelena cut in before he could finish. "You should know he's sensitive about people knowing that."

"So what do we call him now? Just Steve?" Ava scoffed.

"Yeah, 'Just Ava'," Steve quipped readily. "That's what the birth certificate says."

Ava's expression shifted to a curious smirk as she took him in; the famous 'golden boy' with an unexpected amount of sass. Steve didn't get a chance to ask why they were here before Yelena's comm buzzed inside her pocket, signaling incoming trouble that Sam and Bucky were presently unavailable for. Steve himself wasn't on any active roster of heroes, either, but he still turned up in the conference room to gather what was keeping the group for enjoying their holiday. Yelena quickly filled him in: surviving Red Room scientists were creating enhanced operatives and selling them to the highest bidder, and no one had managed to pin down their money sources, bioweapons, or main headquarters. As the discussion wrapped up and the matter was handed off to the new Captain America through a short phone call, Steve felt the familiar, irresistible urge to re-engage. This quiet 'downtime' was merely a pause that could either make him stand aside and let the New Avengers handle it, or answer the pull of the fight again and again until it finally killed him.

"Where's Nat?" Steve asked, naturally, when the redhead didn't show up at the meeting.

Yelena shrugged. "I think she wanted to go to Central Park this morning."

Upon hearing that, Steve moved fast, showering and changing into a simple navy shirt, a vintage Army-style leather jacket, and comfortable trousers. His mission started with a stop at a charming little cafe near the park's entrance, which was cheerfully outfitted with cobwebs draped over string lights and a host of mischievous looking ghost cutouts, and he walked out minutes later with a couple of hot chocolates to share. City streets were alive with the spirit of Halloween. Children waddled around in bulky Transformers costumes, and the brownstones were decked out in pumpkins and seasonal decor, momentarily amazing his eye. Steve even laughed as he watched a random guy in a dinosaur onesie struggle to navigate the sidewalk, his tail constantly bumping pedestrians.

As he turned a corner, the trees of Central Park came into view, their leaves a delightful carnival of reds, oranges, and golds, crunching underfoot and swirling in the breeze. And then, there she was.

Steve froze for a moment, mesmerized by her red hair catching the sunlight and fanning in the wind, perfectly mirrored by the amber leaves swirling around them. The city, the parade, and all the surrounding laughter blurred from his awareness, leaving only her and the warm drink in his hands. Distant cheer from a costumed parade eventually snapped him back, and that's when he approached, handing her a hot chocolate without announcement.

To avoid any awkwardness from earlier (regarding his nosy questions about her love life) he leaned into what always grounded (distracted) them...

Work.

if natasha were being honest, she was glad for the interruption of bucky in that moment. she was a fool for attempting to even say anything. even if steve had caught on to what she was saying, what would he even say? what would she even say in return to anything that could possibly leave his lips? she'd still never fully let go of the simple fact that had been engrained in her for years - that feelings were for children. was it a stupid idea to even entertain the idea of feeling anything for steve? she had him now, as a friend. as someone she trusted. wasn't that enough? it wasn't worth ruining everything they had for some fleeting moment of weakness on her part.

he hadn't responded to her words, hadn't caught on, and she took that as a sign to just... let the point go. at least for now.

she'd barely said anything that night when she'd watched steve and bucky converse in the kitchen - she'd just allowed herself to slip away silently after bucky left, running a hand through her hair. she felt out of her element, constantly being thrown back and forth between possibilities. except there was no possibility, not really. that conversation with steve was a moment of vulnerability with too much being said while... seemingly nothing was said at all. there was something about steve that had her clawing her way out of whatever walls she put up simply to bask in his presence. it was an addicting feeling.

but it was still a feeling that immediately left her system the moment that he left her orbit. a fleeting moment of weakness. a fleeting moment of something other than the hard exterior she'd kept around herself to survive.

natasha was sitting on a barstool in the kitchen late one night, writing down a few things as she waited on a program to finish running on her laptop. it was later than she expected anyone to be awake, and it wasn't as if she was doing anything loud enough to bother anyone. even if natasha wasn't working out in the field, she was always doing something. gathering intel, checking on old leads, getting dirt on potential people that were looking more and more dangerous. some of it had helped the new avengers, and some of it was just for her. with a sigh, natasha moved to wrap her hand around a glass next to her, taking a long sip of the contents inside.

"vodka and work?" yelena's voice rang out throughout the room, natasha turning in her chair slightly and tilting her head as the blonde moved further into the room, moving across the way from the island that natasha was seated at. yelena quickly hopped up to sit on top of the counter, arms resting on her knees. "or is this vodka and sulking?"

natasha furrowed her brows. "i'm not... sulking."

"you look like you're sulking. and you're slouching."

sitting up a bit straighter, natasha quickly finished off the rest of the vodka in her glass before she looked to yelena. "you're worse than melina." yelena rolled her eyes, waving off natasha's words. "but i'm not sulking. i'm working." the blonde didn't look convinced, but natasha also didn't know the point of this entire conversation. and so, she asked bluntly: "what are you doing here? it's past two in the morning. shouldn't you be sleeping?"

with a shrug, yelena put her hands on the counter, gripping onto the edge of it as she looked at natasha. "you are being... all broody and everything. i'm doing my sisterly duties and being annoying so you eventually talk to me about what's going on. you're always working or training and i mean, honestly, i barely even can get time in the gym because you're in there or steve is in there and ---"

immediately, natasha shut her laptop, her looking at yelena before cutting her off mid sentence. "first of all, i'm fine and i see what you're doing. second of all, i'm not being broody. and... me doing whatever i'm doing has nothing to do with... steve, if that's what you're implying. i don't even know why you'd-" yelena looked half amused, just looking at natasha stand up and grab her empty glass to put in the sink. "i'm going to bed." she'd walked out of the kitchen that night, moving to shut herself in her room at the tower and immediately forcing herself to find sleep.

on a particularly breezy halloween, natasha found herself just needing to get out of the tower. for most of her life, she was used to always being out on her own, able to have entire cities as her playground without feeling restricted. not that she didn't have all of new york, but this was... different. yelena had told her all about her costume and her plans days before, and natasha had never been that into halloween. tony had convinced her a few times in the past to get into a costume that wasn't just a headband with ears on it. but this year, instead of a costume, she just was out in the streets of new york city, walking central park with a black coat wrapped around herself paired with a simple long sleeve shirt and jeans.

it was nice to get out and just lose herself in her own thoughts without someone over her shoulder. to listen to people around her just... live without her having to analyze every conversation for something for a mission.

when she suddenly saw a familiar figure next to her handing her a hot drink, she raised a brow. seeing steve here was the last thing she expected, but then again, he was an unexpected force in her life to begin with. "well hello to you, too." she said, ignoring his statement for a moment as she continued walking, running a hand through her hair while her other held onto the drink he'd given her. "i do know about it. i've been keeping tabs on some people for months, too." she looked to him then after taking a sip of her drink. hot chocolate. she ignored the fact that she could feel some small part of herself crumble at the fact that steve went out of his way to get this, that confident in his ability that he'd find her out here. she pushed the thought away just as quickly as it arrived in her mind.

"i've been pulling in on some favors that i'm owed to get some information, but i haven't gotten enough substance to gear up and go anywhere." a beat. "i lived that life. i flew under the radar for a lot of my life. and i knew that anyone still involved in something like this would be a ghost." so, annoyingly, it was taking a little too long to get the information that she needed. "these people don't work the way that we work. if you think you have something on them, you dig into the lead the second you get it and the lead is already dry. people end up dead. people disappear. the only reason i found the red room in the first place was because i knew someone on the inside - i knew that it wasn't going to be over just because i destroyed a building and a killed a few people back then." a beat, summarizing her entire ramble afterwards with a simple: "if you dig too far, you get burned."

she looked around then, taking another sip of her beverage. she realized she'd been talking for a while now, but he had asked her a question, and a topic like this was something that would keep her engaged for a while. "i haven't been exactly advertising the fact that i've been looking into it to the extent that i have. yelena knows, but not every detail." she looked back to him then, her eyes catching the sharp lines of his jaw, the way the sun highlighted his features from where it cracked through the leaves. "why are you asking? did something bigger happen?"

and then it finally made sense. steve wasn't here to enjoy her company, he was here for work. something pressing, given the fact that he'd gone straight into business when he'd found her without even a real hello. she looked away from him then, focusing her thumb on playing with the cardboard sleeve around the cup that kept her hands from getting too hot. it was stupid for her to have thought anything different.

At least she seems satisfied with her little gift, the hint of a smile upon her red lips sending a sudden, unexpected flip through his stomach. "Sure," he didn't mind a little late night snack with Natasha, in fact it was fitting. Not that he'd call his date stressful; no, Emma was a sweet girl, but some part of him couldn't stop drifting, wondering what it would have been like if he'd brought Natasha to that jazz club, if they'd danced the way they always fell into step together, if they'd shared hot chocolate after----------- but that was never going to happen, so... "I should shower and dry off," he added, setting the bag on the counter. "I'll be back."

One hot shower and a change of clothes later, Steve padded back into the kitchen in cozy sweats and a plain workout tee, a cotton towel slung around his neck that he kept running through damp blond hair, darker now from the shower. "You look beat. Please don't tell me you stayed up just to hear me gripe about a date," he joked, reaching for the kettle. He went with chamomile and a little lemon balm, as he'd read from somewhere that it helped with sleep. Not his usual drink, but he'd hunted down plenty of remedies on sleepless nights, and finally slid a mug across to Natasha before sampling the piroshky. It was good, better than good, and he gave a firm nod mid-bite to let her know it got his seal of approval. "…I think it went fine. Great music, we danced, talked after. Honestly, it's probably the talking that ruined it more than my dancing."

Even as he retold the story, his mouth carried a small, wry smile, the kind that proved he wasn't taking the rejection too hard. Everyone knew the feeling of someone's interest fizzling out, and Steve had no ego about admitting he probably made for a dull date. Sure, he got the offers to go back home with people, but that was only physical. Somehow he wasn't great at sparking real connection, and, amongst his friends, he was probably the weakest flirt. The thought made his jaw tighten, teeth catching his lower lip as a flush of heat crept through his chest. Maybe he'd never given his dates reason to believe he could be passionate, too----------------romantic, even.

"I dunno. Maybe it's time for me to accept I'm not gonna find that kind of spark again, that connection I had with---------------" His eyes lingered too long on Natasha, the words catching in his throat. He swallowed, forcing out the correction. "…With Peggy."

Yeah, all roads led back to her... because that made sense. It had to. The last woman who'd stolen his breath, lit him up with longing and that ugly, human feeling of jealousy. His compass.

His compass.

for as much as natasha was good at reading people, sometimes, she was just not the best at reading the people she knew too well. she blamed it on knowing him too long. on knowing his tells but choosing to ignore them. on many things. that, or she was just choosing to not read into things that steve said to her. like now, hearing him say that things were fine. she could tell that there was a bunch of hidden meaning behind the simple word 'fine'. and in every other scenario, she would have asked for clarifying questions. but was this really any of her business? if steve wanted to tell her, he would.

or at least she'd hoped he would. then again, it wasn't as if she was the best person to talk to for any kind of emotional conversation. natasha knew her strengths, and that was not one of them. but she held onto some of steve's words -- that his talking had ruined things. her thoughts ran through that simple statement more than she liked to admit, but she held it close to her for now.

"i didn't stay up just for you. i couldn't sleep. " she just wouldn't admit that she couldn't sleep because of him, but that was a separate issue.

she looked to him as he spoke and she just nodded at his mention of peggy. it was admirable, really. how loyal steve was to someone that was a ghost of a memory at this point. but she knew there were plenty of details she didn't know about his connection to her and their history. she'd read plenty of his SHIELD files, and she wouldn't blame steve if he'd read all of hers. natasha knew how easy it was to redact things or make things read a certain way, and so she took the words about him and about peggy at face value.

his question had her chuckling softly, looking away for a moment. a very non subtle way to continue what seemed to be his earlier line of questioning, but she'd entertain him. she could talk in riddles all day. " hung up is a strong phrase. ex is also a... very strong word. i can't really call them an ex if nothing officially even happened, can i. " if steve wanted to know what went through her head about her past, then she'd give him just enough to make him think. and if he read between the lines and assumed a certain something, well, she'd let him. " i don't know, i've thought about what-ifs before, i guess. i try not to, but. " a shrug. her feelings about steve were complicated -- she was positive that she'd read into plenty of their interactions early on and played them off as if they were nothing. but ...

she took in the sight of him for a moment. his damp hair, the way he held himself in this light. she looked into the mug he'd given her for a moment then, continuing to speak. " it's not easy for me to trust people. " she commented, the words seemingly not really tracking with her prior words. i owe you. a flash of a memory in her mind. she pushed it down. " but it was easy to trust him, " she added, tying the words back to the conversation. " but i get what you mean, about trying to find a spark. " she looked to him again, offering him a small smile that tugged at a corner of her lips. " it's not easy. "

there was a beat of silence. " i think you have some very romanticized version of me in your mind, steve. if you think i'm someone that's had a lot of past loves and ex relationships and anything of the sort, i'm not. " it wasn't something she necessarily was upset about, but it didn't mean she didn't yearn for some sort of connection. " i never had the time or the desire -- not when i constantly was living under different aliases for half of my life. " she paused. " but i've thought about it. " she held his gaze for a moment as she spoke those final words, a hidden intent locked behind her gaze.

He hadn’t thought twice about it. Perhaps flinging himself in front of Ellie in order to shield her away from the 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 wasn’t exactly the smartest move in the world, but seeing the way that 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 had lunged for her, its strong arms attempting to interlock around her torso.. Joel’s body had moved on instinct before brain could weigh up a safer strategy, shoving her to safety. Several bullets from his trusty old revolver were fired, each round embedding themselves into the giant infected’s head and eventually bringing it to its knees. That was a close call. 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 for his liking, evident in how his breaths came out ragged, each pant forming a cloud of fog against the bitter, frosty air.

‘That was the dumbest possible thing you could have done.’ Ellie sounded no better, clearly 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 from the unexpected turn of events that’d unfolded. “Yeah, well..” Pausing momentarily to face her, eyebrows still furrowed in 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐍 and heart roaring in his ears, Joel spoke again. “You ain’t so bright yourself.” Always putting herself into dangerous situations. 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍?

Ellie may have been 𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐄, sure. But that didn’t mean shit when a Bloater could effortlessly tear her apart limb from limb and not break a sweat while doing so. Joel just wanted to 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 from anything this godforsaken world could throw at her for as long as he could, and while they weren’t on the best of terms? He still loved her like she was his own flesh and blood. “..You alright, kiddo? Quite the scare you give me.” He didn’t expect a 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔, instead taking a step closer and offering a hand out to help her up. “C’mon, I gotcha.”

things with joel were always hard to read. in her mind, joel treated her like she was something to be protected, some ... fragile piece of glass that needed to be handled with kid gloves. granted, she did get herself into trouble more often that not, but she always got herself out of it. and whenever she wanted to prove to him that she could handle herself, he was always saving her, and she just felt the frustration rise within her. you ain't so bright yourself. she fought an eye roll at his words. " yeah, well, i've heard that one before. " she looked up at him as he spoke again, ellie brushing off some dust from her jeans. " i'm good. "

her eyes met his hand and she ignored it, instead getting herself up on her own and wincing at a pain in her back. " fuck, " she groaned, looking around at the disaster that was left in the wake of their, for lack of a better term, battle. she moved to kick the bloater with her foot, scrunching her face as a piece of flesh attached itself to her sneakers. " gross. " she commented as she rubbed her shoe against the ground.

she hadn't gone to nikolai when this nightmare first started, and she wouldn't seek his comfort now either.

still, the tailor stepped aside to let him in. whatever it was he had to say to her, she'd rather it not be at her doostep, where his mother anyone could eavesdrop. the door closed behind them and genya felt a twisting sensation return to her stomach - the same she had felt earlier when she confronted the queen, with nikolai right there to witness the entire thing. would he punish her for speaking out of turn to his mother, for poisoning his father? would he really be so cruel?

instead he offered... sympathy? solace? she couldn't say for sure. his tone was gentle, if a little nervous, and genya didn't know how to act in the face of such softness. a part of her wished he'd yell or speak with venomous words, all so she could let her own anger take over, this uncomfortable thing that clung to her skin even now.

he'd invited her to remain silent - and how she wanted to accept that invitation, feeling like no words she'd choose would be adequate - but it didn't feel right after he had come to see her. genya still remembered how much it hurt when she found out her parents were monsters.

"can you really ensure that?" he certainly had the power, now that the throne awaited him. but did he have the resolve to punish his own mother? to look the terrible things she'd done right in the eye?

there were no right words for this conversation, he was positive about that simple fact. truthfully, he would allow genya to say anything to him that she wanted without a single complaint. eyes focused on her as a bit of silence grew between them. he'd wanted to make things easier. wanted to make her feel comfortable, but he was sure that him being here wasn't aiding that in the slightest. but he didn't back down, at least not yet -- he'd find a way to give her the space she wanted back, but for now, he'd stay.

nikolai had been in waiting for the throne for a long time. there was a point in his life where he was sure vasily would be standing in his place, and nikolai would always just be the second son that got to enjoy life's festivities and enjoy traveling due to the simple fact that he didn't have the responsibility of such a high station. but things were different now -- much different. " i can't give you promises with every word i say. " that much he knew. " but i can try. "

he was silent for a few moments, mentally trying to grasp onto the right words to say that were floating around in his thoughts. he wanted to continue, to assure her that he'd figure out things with his mother, but -- and me ? he looked to her. surely, people would be expecting genya to be punished. it wasn't as if his mother's explosion at her yesterday was exactly private. " if the late king was alive right now, i wouldn't allow him to be sitting on that throne. not after what he'd done. " a beat. " i'd be sending both him and my mother away from this palace. "

there was a sigh then, running a hand through his hair. he was tired -- the constant battles looming outside were taking a toll on him. but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, even if he tried. " what am i supposed to be punishing you for? his actions? you were defending yourself, genya. " his words were simple, gaze focused on her as he spoke. " i don't ever intend to be the king he was in any way. ravka doesn't need that. no one in this palace needs that. " he wasn't sure how to really articulate all he was saying, but he hoped he was at least making some sense.

no one surprised her as much as he did. sometimes it came in the form of inspiring determination or unwavering kindness. other times it came in the way he would say such gentle things in the most casual of tones. the only genuine person he knew. had zoya regained her composure sooner, she might've joked - claimed it wasn't that impressive of a feat when he was surrounded by noblemen wired to agree with everything he said. but for once she didn't ruin the moment with her callous words, accepting the compliment at face value instead.

"well, that makes two of us," was all she offered in return, unable to mirror his sentiment in its entirety. surely he knew what she meant. nikolai always seemed to understand her without the need for words.

a brow quirked upwards as he haphazourdly stopped a waiter to grab one, then two glasses. it was nothing unusual given the party unfolding around them - and still zoya couldn't help but hesitate. people talked, and there were already enough rumors going around about them. the maids would see her go into his chambers late at night, surely thinking she was having some romp with the king instead of saving his life. even now, with his attention fully set on his commander, zoya could already hear the whispers of their guests. they rung loud in her ears, inescapable, and yet... the way nikolai held her gaze seemed to quiet the noise for just a moment.

nikolai had absolutely no problem in not coming back to this event. sure, he should be the picture perfect king and say goodbye to his guests and ensure that everyone got out safely. and he could lie and say his intention was to come back, and the right thing to do was come back. truthfully, he was sure zoya would force him to go back at some point in their excursion to the outdoors. but for now, he'd enjoy the few moments of peace that he had until that point. as zoya took the glass from his hand, he walked with her towards the terrace, the instant different in volume of sound making him feel a bit calmer.

" oh, well, you get used to it. " he shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. " i mean, back when i was young, i used to be forced to come to these things. i didn't particularly love them then, but i threw on my charm and got through them. " a beat. " plus, it's nicer as a prince. not as much responsibility. i've learned to tolerate them now, though. they do get a little tiring. " especially when he'd rather spend his night with a certain someone else. at least he got there eventually.

out here, it was quieter -- the moon high in the sky, a gentle breeze in the air. there were less people, and those who were out here were tucked into private conversations. " i should have had the foresight to bring more alcohol than this, but this will do. " he did have a slight buzz, the warmth of the alcohol he'd had so far warming him from the inside. there was a slight chuckle that escaped his lips, moving to run a gloved hand through his hair. it was definitely late, and given that he had to be up a bit early tomorrow, well, it was probably for the best that he didn't have anything else.

Ever so predictably, Romanoff doesn't feel like laying all her cards out on the table, and although Steve had gotten better at catching the little tells from her microexpressions alone, she remained an enigma in certain ways. Every now and then, though, she'd give away just enough. Certainly enough for him to picture the kind of man who could keep her interest---------------- someone who could fight alongside her, take the hits and keep on standing. Was any of it genuine with Bruce? Steve had been under the impression that she'd been sent in to collect him, but that didn't necessarily make him just another mission to her.

And, sure, he'd had that smoky sweet voice and those curled fluttering lashes turned on him before as well... 'flirting', if you wanted to call it that. But it had never been about him, and he wasn't about to say that he ever wished it was. He'd known that she'd been digging for answers about Fury by trying to work past his guard in the process, a little game of cat and mouse that Steve had shut down because, honestly, he wasn't very good at such games of deceit.

"Yeah, it is weird," He agrees with her right away, considering his own life story being plastered across a museum in D.C. for everyone to see, not to mention how they had made old movies about him, including a Steve Rogers musical coming out shortly. All things that felt a little awkward and invasive, but folks wanted their iconic poster boy, even though he wasn't a perfect soldier and sure as hell wouldn't be taking any blind orders again. He knew what it was like, walking into dates with people who already thought they had him figured out, and he wanted to say as much. ...But Natasha's offhanded remark about having been interested in someone on the team had knocked him sideways, until he was left reeling for so long that he couldn't follow up from his statement.

And Natasha says she's happy and----------- that's all that Steve really needs to know. The answer, after all, is genuine; he reads it in the softness of her expression. Romanoff tends to blank out with a certain look or tense her shoulders a bit when she's worried about something.

(However, the thought stuck inside his head: had she ever gone looking for love at all? He nearly asked, yet the words wouldn't come out, as if now just didn't feel like the right time.)

"How could I not know? I've tossed you sky-high plenty of times, and you always come down on your feet, even with half the world shooting at us." He'd seen her face down aliens, outmaneuver machines. Ice skating was probably child's play to her.

And just when it seems she's about to see him out, he leans forward, thinking perhaps for a brief moment that he'll get the usual quick kiss on the cheek. Only… she's moving towards his bedroom mirror to smooth out her hair instead. Steve blinks, shakes off the thought, and straightens up his big shoulders. "Not sure how long you’re staying up, but yeah. I'll call if I get laughed out of the club for trying to dance."

Later that night, however, the music at the club rises and falls with Ellington's swing, Billie's dusky tones, Sinatra's smoothness. Normally he'd let it all settle him in as the band cycled through everything comforting and familiar, but the gears inside his mind were still picking at what Natasha could mean by genuine flirtation. And why did she keep it from him that she'd once been involved, however briefly, with someone on the team? This had to be about Barton-------------------- the one who brought her into SHIELD, just as Steve had helped guide her out of its corruption. Still, Barton's known her the longest...

"Is there something wrong?" Emma, his date, flutters a hand atop his bicep, and that's when he snaps out of it, remembering he's just in a club, propped up by the bar, and a long way from Natasha and the tower. Not paying attention was awfully rude of him.

"No, everything's perfect. Care to dance?" He shifts to refocus, manages the floor with only one misstep on Emma's shoe, and then finds his rhythm. Hours later, after all of the noise and the music, they spill into the night, rain coming down in a softly cool drizzle that's nice after the small workout. Emma suggests a bite to eat, and Steve agrees to go with her, even with his sweater clinging damp to his back and blond hair dripping into his eyes. She laughs, orders cups of hot chocolate for them both------------------------- while Steve, from across the rain-blurred glass, catches sight of an Eastern European shop he remembers his friend frequenting.

New York's changed, for sure, but it was still his city. Stores that never closed, people too busy to bother with the former Captain America strolling down their sidewalks. That was what he liked best: the city kept moving, and most nights, it let him simply be.

"So... I know you probably get this question all the time, but what's it like being an Avenger?"

He understands that she wants to know about his life, and the Avengers were a critical part of that, prompting Steve into giving his best light-hearted stories about Sam stepping up as the new Captain, Tony being as larger than life as everyone thought, as well as Thor pouring out some divine alcohol to him. Yet, even as he went on------------------- treacherous thoughts strayed back to Natasha, Natasha, Natasha. From the jokes, to the frustration, and the times she fought to save his life, of course every detail seemed to always circle back to her.

When he finished talking about her, he didn't notice Emma had gone quiet, her excitement dimming into a polite, distant, "Well… she sounds like an amazing woman."

For the first time tonight, the date finally felt... awkward. He'd offered to walk her home, and she'd made it clear she didn't want him to; just a hug, a whispered "call me," and off she went. Well, that was… nice? Simple. And whilst there hadn't been any sparks, hadn't that been exactly what he wanted?

As if on cue, thunder cracked across the black sky, storm clouds opening up again. Steve hurried into the little Russian shop, made his purchase, and then hurried out, cradling the bag to his chest as best as he could to keep it from getting drenched in the rain. When he made it back to the tower, he was soaked from head-to-toe, but still radiant somehow, boyishly grinning as he walked into the den area and spotted that Natasha had moved from his room to the couch. Well… she didn't have to do that. She could stay in his room anytime, and he wouldn’t have minded. Honestly, who knew how long the room would even keep being his? If he weren't half concerned about the others needing him, he might've hit the road weeks ago just to stay out of the way as the new Avengers formed up.

Sam looked to be passed out on the couch opposite Natasha, and Steve couldn't help but remember the days they'd spent running together, just the three of them. He stepped closer to her, moving carefully so as not to startle the pair, though he knew she would feel him there almost instantly.

natasha wasn't sure how she could reconcile the feeling settled within her. she wasn't sure how to explain the feeling of... she wasn't even sure how to describe it, really. it was probably nothing. she was happy for steve --- he deserved to find some sliver of happiness, after everything. he'd gone through more than people experienced in a million lifetimes. the battle wasn't ever truly fully over, even if others had taken up the hero mantle and were fighting in their place. natasha knew that she, as well as steve, would have been doing anything to jump in to help if they were needed. natasha wasn't good at sitting still. she wasn't good at pretending that she was fine sitting on the bench and didn't yearn for some resemblance of her prior life.

if anything, she'd find her own things to keep her busy. she had contacts she could reach out to in order get some work, and she'd been contemplating it for a while. it just never quite felt like the right time.

as steve was gone on his date, natasha kept herself busy. she made herself food, sam eventually coming to join her. " if you're expecting me to be a world class chef, i missed that class in my training. " it was easy to fall into a routine with sam --- they'd gotten incredibly comfortable together on the run, with steve, and they'd both saved each other more times than she could probably count. and here he was, still saving the world. " where did steve go? " he'd asked, and natasha shrugged. " date. he's probably off dancing and impressing some girl. " she was nonchalant in her words, simply getting a plate of food together for sam.

" here, " she'd said with a slight smile tugging at her lips, pushing a plate of pasta towards him. " i'd lie and said i made it all myself, but i'll instead thank the empty jar of sauce in the recycling bin and boxed pasta. " there was a laugh from sam, her shaking her head and grabbing a plate for herself. it was easy to settle into conversation as they ate, the two of them standing around the kitchen and talking about seemingly anything and everything. current affairs, current drama, and natasha, of course, trying to get details about sam's love life, too. it was just rooted within her to get information from everyone, she couldn't help it.

somewhere in the night, natasha was in the living room of the tower with sam, still continuing their conversation. they'd had the television on for a bit in the background until she'd settled with scrolling through her phone or reading while sam settled for falling asleep to the low noises of a movie. she'd kept the television on but turned the volume down even lower, focusing on a book. she was tired, sure, but she found herself wanting to stay up. she told herself it wasn't for steve.

she knew she was lying to some part of herself. it didn't matter.

when natasha heard steve's voice, she looked up from where she was half asleep, her head resting in her hand as she leaned against the side of the couch. " steve? " her voice was quiet, laced with tiredness, before she sat up a bit more. " you brought what? " she'd brought it to the tower many times before, but she wouldn't have expected steve to either remember or care to bring it. " i'm surprised you're back so soon. " truthfully, she expected him to be out until the morning, but she wouldn't deny that she was happy to see him. " did it go well? "

she stood up and moved to grab the bag out of his hand, opening it and taking in a deep breath. " they smell amazing. " she nodded her head towards a different area, still holding onto the bag. " sam's been asleep for a while. figured it'd be best if we let him stay that way. " there was a hint of a smile on her face, tugging at the corner of her lips. " thanks for grabbing these, though. " she moved to pull one out of the bag, salivating slightly at the sight. it had been quite a while since she'd had anything like this, and she was sure she'd enjoy every bite. " do you want a plate or anything? " she didn't seem to care as she moved to take a bite of one that she took out of the bag, handing the rest in the bag back to steve. " they're good. "

the sooner zoya could squash the uncomfortable feeling pooling in her chest.

"i'm sure two exchanged looks is enough for her to want to marry you," zoya pointed out, half-jesting though quite certain her words were true. she wagered most of the women in this room had their eye on the unmarried king, aiming for the title or simply his company.

the squaller only spared him a quick glance, not giving him the satisfaction of agreeing that he did look handsome. he didn't need the boost to his ego - or zoya a hit to hers. she only hummed noncommittally as she took another sip of her drink.

"don't test me, i just might find someone," she warned, despite not actually intending on following through with the thread. it would be painfully easy to find him a wife within minutes anyway.

nikolai hoped that one day all of this discussion about plans for his future would be over. he didn't want to find a wife, at least certainly not one that was chosen for him. he understood that there was a need to move things along, to ensure that there was nothing that could cause ravka to fall apart at his hands. there was plenty on his shoulders, but this was something he would easily shrug off as a non-issue. he could find a different way to secure his claim to the throne.

as zoya agreed to going with him, he chuckled gently. " well, as i'm the one throwing this party, in addition my amazing conversation and company, i think we should go for a bit of fresh air. i think some people snuck out to the terrace -- i suggest we join them. " a beat. " and i don't expect you to smile and laugh at my jokes, zoya. i think sometimes you're the only genuine person i know. " the times he did get her to laugh, though... well, he held those moments close to him.

" come on, " he said gently, nodding away from their current position and beginning to walk. " i could use some fresh air. " a beat. " and another drink. " when a waiter walked by, nikolai moved to put his empty glass on the tray before grabbing a fresh one, thanking him as he began to move away. " wait, hold on. actually -- " he moved to grab another one, holding it up in offer to zoya as he took a few steps backwards, his eyes on her as if in invitation.