#basure

Shit, Natasha thought, and went looking for records. Didn’t take much to track down Ross’s secret underwater prison. They’d saved records of the security footage - she found the cameras for the cells first, and watched her friends: Wanda rocking back and forth in a straightjacket, Sam pacing, Clint lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling with one hand behind his head. At least she knew they’d been freed - that was in the news, the ex-Avenger fugitives. Where were they now?

She didn’t know enough.

What she did know, though, before too long, was that her hunch had been right. Timestamped footage of Loki’s execution, tucked away in the databanks. There were other files in the same folder; Natasha opened one and watched maybe thirty seconds before closing it and exiting the system, slipping out of the internet cafe she’d been working from.

She walked three blocks before sitting down in a park, spine straight, and breathed. Piecing events together. Steve and Bucky had gone to Siberia to deal with the other Winter Soldiers there. Loki must not have gone with them - must have stayed back with the others, and been captured. She’d bet that had been Vision. Other than Thor, Bruce, and Wanda, he was probably the only one with the raw power.

From there, it looked like it’d been a short road to Ross having him quietly eliminated. It made sense. Loki was dangerous, next to impossible to contain. And - based on those other files - valuable for other reasons.

Steve came back to free the others, because of course he did. By then, Loki was already gone. And afterwards…

God, Steve.

Natasha’s feelings on Loki were - complicated. And that was putting it mildly. She didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. But at the same time - he wasn’t what she’d thought he was. Over the past few years, he’d done nothing bad - unless you counted what he and Barnes had done to Hydra, which she didn’t - and a surprising amount of good. That he loved Steve was beyond doubting, and he’d managed to forge friendships with Barnes and Wanda both, and mended fences with Thor. And he’d apparently been willing to sacrifice himself to give Steve and Barnes a fighting chance.

Oh, shit, Thor. Steve was one thing. Steve would turn inward, blame himself, rip himself to shreds. Thor, though...Thor would turn his fury outward. Where that wrath would fall…

Maybe on the whole planet. Almost certainly on Tony.

Natasha pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and then let them fall away. “Fuck,” she whispered hoarsely. She’d known things would be bad. But this bad?

She half thought she should just go back underground. Weather out the storm. She wished she knew a way to reach out to Steve, or if her presence would even be welcome. Would he blame her, for supporting the Accords? For his loss?

Did she blame herself?

She could probably track down Clint, if she tried. Talk to him. It would be a comfort, probably; he usually was. But maybe he’d be angry with her, too.

Natasha should be used to being alone, but just now, she was very aware of it.

**

It wasn’t hard to know when Thor came back. When he knew. Monster storms lashed the planet, the sky cracking open with the force of a god’s rage and grief. There were no reports of Tony Stark’s death, though, and she was pretty sure that would’ve made news. Natasha reached out, carefully, to Jane Foster, but she didn’t answer her phone.

No word of Steve Rogers. No sign of the Winter Soldier. The storms died down, eventually.

Something drove Natasha back into the files on the Raft. She wiped the entire folder that held all the footage of Loki. It was a stupid gesture - meaningless, really. But whatever Loki had done–

He deserved better than that. Than having his death and desecration reduced to a few megabytes on a government server.

**

The message from Tony caught her by surprise. He said he wanted to see her. She thought about ignoring it - thought hard about ignoring it - but in the end decided she’d take the bait. He wanted her to come to his place in Malibu, which she declined, requesting somewhere public instead. They went back and forth in coded messages for a while before Tony sent one that said, please Nat I need to talk to someone.

Weak, she thought, settling into Tony’s lab, but she was still here.

Tony looked wrecked when he came downstairs and stopped dead, looking at her. After a second he just made a face and said, “yeah, okay,” before stepping in. “Um. Hey.”

She didn’t respond. His words to her still stung. Old habits die hard. He shifted, and rubbed a hand down his face. “So you’re pissed at me too, huh,” he said. “Go ahead, get it out of your system.”

Natasha just leaned on the table. “I don’t have anything to get out of my system,” she said. “You said you needed to talk to someone. I’m here.”

Tony sank down onto a bench. “Ross killed Loki,” he said, after a moment.

“I know,” Natasha said. She hesitated before asking, “where’s Steve?”

Tony’s expression spasmed, tightened. “Wakanda, right now.” That didn’t come as a particular surprise.

“Have you talked to him?”

“Is he the reason you’re here? To find out how he’s doing?” The bitterness in Tony’s voice was unmistakable. Natasha just leveled him with a look, and Tony’s lips twisted. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I have.”

“And?” Natasha said, when he didn’t expand.

“Not like we’re having many heart-to-hearts these days,” Tony said. “But I’d say he’s probably better now that Loki’s back from the dead.”

Natasha was sure, at first, that she’d misheard him. Then she was sure she was misunderstanding.

“Yeah,” Tony said. “Back from the dead. We did that. Thor and Steve and I. They all left about a week ago.”

“What the hell are you talking about,” Natasha said.

“I know,” Tony said. “I know. I thought they were crazy, when Steve came asking me for help, but - guess not. They did it. We did it, I went with them, it seemed like...seemed like I should, even if, if they both hate my guts right now. Maybe forever. But I thought maybe it would, I don’t know, help.” His laugh was raw. “Yeah, not so much. Fuck. But yeah, we found the bastard, dragged him out, he was crazy as a shithouse rat - wouldn’t stop screaming for I swear to god the first ten fucking hours even if he ran out of voice after about three. Kept going anyway, though. And neither of them - Thor, Steve, neither of them would hear anything about how maybe he wasn’t going to just - bounce back, be fine–”

Natasha was still trying to process back from the dead, but Tony was certainly painting a vivid picture. She could see it, too: Thor and Steve both closing ranks around Loki. It wouldn’t matter how crazy he was, how damaged. They wouldn’t care.

“It got better, I guess. Sort of. He was walking and talking by the time they took him out of here, anyway. But he’s - fucked up. Deep down broken, maybe. And I don’t know, maybe I did the wrong thing, brought back something that shouldn’t be here…”

He trailed off.

“Why’d you do it,” Natasha asked.

“What?”

“If you had all these misgivings,” she asked, keeping her voice neutral, “why’d you do it? Why did you help?”

“Everything’s fucked up,” Tony said after a moment, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t think - I didn’t want him dead. I didn’t think Ross was that stupid.” Natasha said nothing. She didn’t think she needed to say that at least two people had told him that would be exactly what Ross would do; she was sure he already knew. “Loki dying - broke things. And I know that was - at least partly my fault. So I thought if I helped get him back…”

“It didn’t work,” Natasha said, not a question. Tony snorted, harsh and humorless.

“No,” he said. “No, it fucking didn’t.”

She couldn’t say she was surprised. Loki might be back now, but that didn’t erase the fact that he’d died.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and meant it. “I know you didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“No,” Tony said, sounding relieved. “I fucking didn’t. Thank you.”

“But it still did,” Natasha said.

Tony’s expression turned bitter. “You too, huh?”

“We all have to face the consequences of what we do,” Natasha said. “I know I am.”

Tony’s expression wavered. “Jesus fuck. It’s not all my fault. I was just trying to…” He trailed off, and his shoulders slumped. He sighed, looking away. “I thought I could fix this.”

That’s your problem, Natasha thought. You think you should be able to fix everything. “Some things,” she said, “you just can’t.” She stood up. “It’s not safe to contact me. For either of us. Don’t do it again.”