You sat in a small café, waiting for your target to appear. There was a very large bounty on his head, and you were the number one freelance assassin pretty much anywhere due to your illusion manipulation abilities. For this particular case, the café itself was a product of your own design, and if you must say so yourself, your attention to detail was on point. So much so that the smell of coffee and pastries was making you hungry. Your chosen personality façade was the appearance of an old friend of yours, one that you took a little pause in using because of your history together, but given that your target was a high-ranking SHIELD agent and a friend of hers, it was guaranteed to draw him in. All he had to do was find himself sitting across from Natasha Romanoff and you would kill him so efficiently that he wouldn't even see it coming, and the blame would be placed on his own team.

His footsteps were even and strong, and you knew it was him before you made visual contact. He rested his hand on your shoulder, giving you confidence that your illusion of Natasha was successful.

"Give me five minutes, I'll be right back," he said quietly, leaning in close to you, but moving away again before you could reply. He had yet to look you in the eye, and your instincts were telling you that something wasn't right here.

~~~

"Well, you were right, she's an exact match," Fury whispered into his phone as he watched you wait for him on the other side of your created environment. "Man, even the way she turns her head to move her hair is the same. It's amazing."

"Okay, so engage her and we'll move in."

"Rogers, you know that the second I sit down in front of her, she's gonna take her shot." Nick looked around at his surroundings for the first time, shaking his head in awe of the details you had put into it. "Damn, she's good. I would have no reason to believe that this place wasn't real. Right down to the cracks in the old ceiling and worn paint job."

"If you don't get her to show her hand, we have nothing to go on to take her, you know that," Steve sighed, "we need proof that she's the one who's after you."

"Okay, so let me get this straight," Nick huffed, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration, "the fact that I'm here looking at Natasha Romanoff when the real Natasha Romanoff is sitting right next to you isn't enough? I have to actually get shot to prove that she's out to get me? What if she takes a head shot, genius? Nothing bullet proof there!"

"I don't know, Fury, that skull of yours is pretty thick," Steve laughed, and Nick swore he could hear Nat in the background joining in; after a small pause he heard Steve cough quietly to regain his composure. "We should have her before she can take a shot; she's out in the open so she'll aim under the table. It's too risky for her to make her play that publicly."

"That's reassuring, Rogers, thanks," Nick groaned sarcastically. "Alright, let's get this over with." He slid his phone into his pocket and tapped his chest gently, reassuring himself that his vest was secure and ready to protect him. He walked back to you as casually as he could, still trying to look official, while trying to not appear too nervous. It was a balancing act that he really wasn't skilled at, and he hoped that you would buy it anyway.

"So, let's have it," he said, pulling his chair out to sit. "What was so urgent that you needed to see me, and why not at HQ?"

"Well, it seems like you've really pissed off the wrong people this time, Nick. They've put a very high price on your head," you said, leveling your gun under the table so that it would strike the lower mid-left rib cage and destroy the most vital part of his heart. "It would seem that there have been a few takers on that offer."

Fury leaned back in his chair, trying to ensure that the vest was in the direct line of your aim. "You think I don't know when I'm being hunted? Trust me, Romanoff, I've been around long enough to know when I'm getting played. And I've got a great team," he finished with a smile.

So he wasn't here alone and your instincts were right after all. Now you knew he would be wearing a vest so you stood and took aim at his head, firing as you were hit sharply from the side and knocked to the ground with a solid, bone crunching landing.

The real Natasha looked up from her hold on you and saw Fury lying on the ground next to her holding his neck, but still alive and awake. Steve was immediately at his side and lifting him to safety so that she could keep her focus on you.

"(Y/N), I know it's you! Change back!"

"Hey, Nat. Long time, no see, huh?" You laughed, looking up at her with a mix of spite and resentment, "well, okay maybe not for me. I did just look in a mirror about fifteen minutes ago."

"Who sent you?"

'I sent me."

"Dammit, (Y/N), who hired you to off Fury?"

"I'm sorry, that's confidential," you sneered, working to free yourself from her grasp, but it only made her more committed to keeping you down. "Wow, Nat, you're so much stronger than the last time we did this," you grunted. You managed to get one arm free, landing a firm elbow to her chest to knock her back slightly and enough to free your other arm.

"I could say the same for you." She grabbed your wrist before your hand struck her throat, but your other hand knocked her arm away. Bucking your hips with as much strength as you could, you threw her from you harshly and onto her back, giving you the advantage and holding her down as she winced from the pain of your knee digging into her stomach.

Dropping your illusion of being Natasha, you chuckled as you drew a knife from beneath your shirt, ready to finish her off once and for all, after years of feeling like nothing more than a shadow to the one who was once your friend. "Unlike last time, though, I've got the balls to finish it," you hissed, leaning down to hold the blade against the soft skin of her throat.

"So do I," Steve growled, pulling you from her by the back of your shirt and onto the ground with such an unexpected force that it took your breath away as you hit the concrete, making your head spin.

"Ow, shit...I forgot you were here," you moaned, trying to shake the dizziness away to gain your equilibrium again.

"Steve, don't let her up, she can appear as anything to trick you, but it's still her," Natasha warned, rubbing her neck as she joined Steve to stand over you. "(Y/N), for the last time, who sent you?" She pulled her hand away and smirked at the sight of her own blood on her fingers. "You have gotten braver," she mumbled under her breath.

"Sorry, darling, I'm freelance," you panted, just beginning to catch your breath and still flat on your back with no desire to move from the Captain's ridiculously strong grip, "no ID, no questions, no commitment."

Natasha knelt down next to you and studied you for a moment, trying to remember the person you were when she knew you years ago, before things unraveled and all you did was fight. Before she joined SHIELD and you ran the other way as fast as you could, and before your very brief but very intense relationship came to an angry and physically painful end.

"Why are you still doing this? You could be using your powers for good, like you used to before...before..."

"Before you broke my heart? Or was it before I took my first job with you as my target? Until today, Natasha, you were the only job that I hadn't finished. Funny how you're the common denominator in both situations though..."

Steve let up on his pressure a little, allowing you some movement, but it caused Natasha to step back; she was clearly nervous around you, very uncharacteristic for her.

"Hey," Steve whispered to her, "if you want to step away, I've got this."

"Actually, no, let me take over," she said with a sense of uncertainty, moving in with restraints to take his place. "Is Nick okay?

"Yeah, the bullet only grazed him. He's lucky you're so fast." Steve stood slowly and allowed her to take his place, but kept his grip on your hands until she could secure them. "You sure about this?"

Natasha nodded silently, waiting for him to leave before she spoke again. "(Y/N), you know that I'm sorry for everything. I've said it a million times. Okay, up," she commanded, pulling you to your feet, "don't try to run or I will shoot you."

"Yeah, can't imagine why your apologies didn't feel genuine," you snickered. "I'm not mad at you anymore, Nat. I'm just mad. It makes the job easier, you understand, right? Oh, wait, you don't. You've joined the super friends and everything is just friendship, team building and world saving over at that ridiculous tower." You made a gagging sound as you mocked her, shaking your head at the unfathomable idea of your old assassin friend as a part something like that. "You ask what's happened to me, Nat, but I have to ask the same of you."

"Let me show you. Come with us."

"No, I can't do the good guy act like you can." You took a step closer to her even though she twisted your hands as a warning not to, "I'm not as good an actress, maybe. I'm comfortable with who I am, and maybe you just aren't there yet."

The sound of screeching tires and darkly clothed armed men running towards the building that held Steve and Nick caught her attention, her focus shifting to the threat that was imminent against her teammates who likely had no idea what was coming. She released your hands for a fraction of a second to secure her weapons, turning back to see that you were gone. She spun around, searching for you, but quickly gave up when she realized that you could be and illusion right in front of her and she wouldn't even know it.

The scene that was playing out behind her was silenced just as quickly once you had made your escape, having been just another distraction of your own creation. "Thanks, Nat. This was fun," you whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, "we'll have to do it again sometime."    

Part 2

"It's her."

Steve strained his eyes to see what Natasha was trying to point out on the screen, but even with his enhanced sight, he had no clue what he was supposed to be looking at. "I think you're seeing things, Romanoff."

"It's her. I know it is."

He crossed his arms and leaned back, thinking that if he stepped away it might come into focus, but he still saw nothing. "You're making this personal, aren't you? I've gotta say, this is a new side of you," he paused, leaning down again next to her. "I'm not sure if I like it."

With a loud groan, Natasha pushed back against the table and rolled her chair back, getting up to gather her files on the mission they were about to begin. She hadn't seen you again since that day at the café, and nearly a year had passed. Every time she thought that she had found you it turned up with nothing and she was only growing more and more frustrated.

"Why do you need to find her so badly?"

"I don't."

"Nat, come on," he said quietly, trying to calm the tone of the conversation, "you don't need to be that way. It's okay."

Her head snapped to look at him with a surprised expression, her eyes squinting at him skeptically when he didn't elaborate. "I'm not sure what you're getting at, Steve. Be careful there."

"It's okay to have feelings about this. About her. You don't always have to be so stoic, you know."

"Oh, okay," she scoffed sarcastically, "says the man whose picture is next to that word in the dictionary."

Steve rolled his eyes slightly and grinned, reaching out to help her carry her supplies, "alright, I see your point. But listen, that doesn't change what I said. Are you gonna be okay if you're right? If she's there?"

He waited for a reply, but none came. They walked together to the jet in silence, and he knew that pushing her would only close her off more. When the rest of the team arrived, Natasha was sitting alone in the pilot seat, lost in her own thoughts, where she would stay until they landed several hours later.

~~~

You saw her right away. As soon as you had heard that the Avengers would be joining the fight, you took care to stay safe until you could see her. When she stepped off the jet she looked sad; not her usual eagerness and enthusiasm for the battle that you loved to see. It suddenly occurred to you that she might know that you were here, but you didn't want to believe that you could still affect her so much after all this time and after all of the anger thrown at each other.

It was easy to stay next to her, shifting your appearance to take on that of a comrade rather than the enemy, as you truly were on this day. You wondered if she would kill you, knowing that it was her directive. You decided that there was only one way to find out.

"Hey hot stuff," you whispered in ear, transforming into your true form. "It's been forever."

"I knew it! I knew you were here!" she exclaimed over the commotion. "What the hell have you done this time?"

"Yeah, Tash, it's good to see you too," you huffed, shooting a guard in the distance, forgetting that you were standing right next to the enemy. "Oops," you smirked with a small laugh. "Forgot you were there. So, let's skip these pleasantries and get down to it. Are you going to kill me too, honey? Because that's not going to go so well for you."

"Don't call me that," she grunted, leaping onto the back of one of your teammates and quickly ending him without much of a struggle. "I'm not your honey."

"Still didn't answer the question," you replied, standing almost motionless and in awe of her skill. You knew she was the best at what she did, but to see it in person was always more impressive than the time before. "I'm kind of on a schedule, so if you could hurry it up?"

You looked over her shoulder and saw the Captain running towards her, pointing at you as if she might not have known you were there. You waited until he pulled his arm back to throw the shield your way before transforming to blend with the foliage and out of his sight.

"Romanoff," he panted, running up next to her, "so you were right. She's here."

"Yeah, and I think you scared her off."

It's gonna take more than Spangles here to scare me away, love." Steve and Nat looked around them, as your voice seemed to come from everywhere. "I must say, though, I like the new uniform, Captain. Very flattering."

"Thanks?" he called out to the area, not knowing where you were for certain. "Do I get to see you? It was such a pleasure to meet you last time, I would love to have the opportunity to restrain you again."

Your laugh filled the air around them, watching as they continued to fight your teammates. "Captain Rogers, I would have never guessed that you were so feisty. I can see why our Tasha likes you."

You decided to transform again, but not into your own form, rather one of their teammates so that they wouldn't attack you on sight. You were so wrapped up in listening to them try to figure out where you were that you didn't see your own comrade take his aim, his bullet piercing your lung and dropping you to the ground in a heap at Steve's feet. Without your control, your façade dropped away, revealing to them who you were.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N), stay awake!" Natasha called to you frantically, kneeling at your side to hold pressure on your wound as blood ran between her fingers. "Steve, help me!" You winced in pain as his arms slid beneath you, carrying you to their jet despite your argument to leave you behind.

"Sorry, ma'am. You of all people should know better than to say no to Romanoff."

~~~

"Do you think we can keep her here?"

Natasha was sitting at your bedside, waiting for you to wake up, wanting to hold your hand but not allowing herself to. "I'm going to try," she sighed with resolve.

Steve nodded silently and stood behind her to rest his hand on her shoulder, and she reached up and put hers over it with a small squeeze. "Don't worry," he whispered, "I won't tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what?"

"That Natasha Romanoff has feelings," he chuckled, scurrying away before she could turn around to slap him in retaliation.

"No one would believe him anyway," you groaned, your voice harsh and strained. You tried to take a deep breath but the pain grabbed you, causing you to cough until you started to struggle.

"Hey, here," she said calmly, rubbing your hair and holding an oxygen mask over your face. "Slow down, (Y/N). Just slow down."

You reached up and pushed her hand away, determined to keep her at a distance. You were weak and injured, but you weren't about to be gullible and fall back into having feelings for her. It was too hard and it was a disaster for both of you.

"I'm good, thanks. You don't need to babysit me, Tash. I don't want you to."

Her expression cooled and she backed away, folding her arms over her chest and looking anywhere but at you. "I'm not babysitting. I'm here to keep you detained."

"Because you did such a marvelous job last time?"

"Why do you do this?" she pressed, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Why do you have to make everything into an argument? You could have died, and what thanks do we get?"

"Okay, thanks."

Nat took a long, deep breath and closed her eyes, steeling herself so that she wouldn't erupt and make things even worse. Letting it out, she opened her eyes to find you gone.

"Son of a bitch," she mumbled, not even bothering to try searching for you, knowing that if you didn't want to be found, you wouldn't be.

"Language," you whispered in her ear before hurrying away as best as you could through the pain. "Until next time, darling."

Part 3

"I don't care what you say, Barton! You're cheating!"

"I am not!"

Clint stood up and lunged at Natasha, the pieces of board game flying everywhere from the table that sat between them. Before he could reach her, she stood and grabbed his arm to spin him away and onto the large couch next to her.

"You guys," Steve groaned, "does it always have to end with this? I feel like I'm babysitting."

Clint rolled off the couch and onto his feet, standing defensively towards her in the event of another attack, pointing at her with an expression of shock at the Captain's insinuation. "She started it! She said I was cheating, but she's just a sore loser!"

"There's no way that you got that far ahead of me without cheating!" Natasha argued.

"Alright, that's it," Steve huffed, standing up with his arms crossed, "play time is over. No snacks for either of you, and now it's off to bed."

The two master assassins stared at him in surprise, both of them with mouths wide open, but Clint was the first to speak. "Cap, come on, are you serious?"

"Yeah, Steve, what the hell?" Natasha agreed, but was interrupted by her phone vibrating in her pocket. She pulled it out and pointed at Steve sternly, turning to step away for privacy. "You are not the boss of me, Rogers."

Tash, I need your help.

Natasha sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes squeezed shut tightly in frustration. She hadn't heard from you in months after you had left her in the infirmary, but she wasn't surprised by that; she was surprised that you would need her for anything, and even more so that you would ask.

"Nat?" Steve moved to her side and waited, watching her text you back and reluctant to push, but knowing that something serious was happening. "Romanoff?"

What did you do, (Y/N)?

There's a price on my head.

Natasha felt her heart skip slightly, unable to deny to herself that she cared about what happened to you. She couldn't deny that she was afraid for you; afraid that she could lose you even though she was nowhere near having you.

How high?

High.

Where are you now?

"Behind you."

"Son of a-" she yelped, spinning around just as you changed your form to your true self. "You can't do that, (Y/N)! How the hell did you get in here?"

With a smile you shifted into the form of another, wearing dark rimmed glasses and a white lab coat. "Hi, I'm Amy. I've been sent by Director Fury to upgrade your lab interface," you replied calmly. When Natasha's expression changed to realization of what you had done, you transformed back to yourself.

"You've been here for a week?!"

"I needed a place to hide," you shrugged. "There's nowhere safer than this tower."

Clint had now joined Steve, watching the display from only a few feet away, not entirely sure about what was happening, other than that Natasha looked livid and he didn't like it. "Hey, (Y/N). I thought that you and I had an agreement that you would stay away from her."

"Clint..."

"No, Nat, this is ridiculous. She does nothing but taunt you and now she needs your help? No," he said, shaking his head, "I'm not gonna let this happen. Let her fend for herself. I sure as hell won't miss her."

"Barton, you need to step away," Steve warned, taking a few steps between him and where you were standing. "Let's give them some time alone, alright?"

"No, Captain, let's hear it," you encouraged, stepping around him to be face-to-face with Clint, "I would just love to know what he thinks he's gonna do about it. I've kicked his ass before, and I can do it again."

Natasha rushed forward and grabbed your arm, trying to pull you back while Steve pushed against Clint to make more room between you. "Clint, I've got this," she huffed, "just go with Steve."

"Yeah, if I heard correctly, it was bedtime, Barton," you hissed.

Clint's face was immediately red with rage, and he yanked his arm away from Steve's grasp. He pounced at you, knocking you flat on your back with his arm raised to strike. You were able to catch his hand as it came down, flipping him onto his back with your knee pressing deeply into his abdomen. Each time he tried to move or push you away, you only dug in deeper.

"At least make it a challenge for me."

The two of you had moved so quickly that Steve and Natasha were just now pulling you each away, making certain that you wouldn't try anything else; the Captain led Barton away with his hands behind his back, and Natasha had you by the front of your shirt, twisted so it threatened your airway. Once the two men were gone, she threw you down onto the couch firmly and stood over you to wait for your explanation.

"I never liked that guy," you mumbled, rubbing your neck where the material had pinched.

"I think the feeling is pretty mutual. Now tell me what you want from me. Do they want you dead or alive?"

"Alive, I think. But I only need your powers of persuasion, my dear," you smiled, making her even more uncomfortable, knowing that nothing with you could ever be simple. "I need you to convince Nick Fury that I'm not worth the price he's ready to pay. I know he listens to you."

Natasha's face went pale and her eyes widened in shock, "(Y/N), are you serious? Please tell me that you're just making a sick joke. That's more your style than coming to me for help anyway. Please tell me that this is a joke."

"Sweetheart, if this was a joke, do you think that I would hide out in the Avengers tower? Although, I guess it's only safe until Fury tells you to come after me too."

Nat could feel knots building in her stomach and a slight wave of nausea at the thought of her long-time friend being the one hunting you down. If Fury wanted you captured, then you would be; it only now occurred to her that she had the perfect opportunity in front of her.

"So," she sighed, reluctantly sitting next to you, "what exactly did you do to get on his radar?"

"I might have killed a few diplomats..." you groaned, "that were on your side..." You paused, glancing over at her but not holding her gaze, "but I swear, they were really bad people!"

Natasha slowly turned her phone over in her hand, holding it down against her leg where you couldn't see. As she looked at you and listened to the story of how you found your way back to her, she was making contact with Nick.

"You should turn yourself in, (Y/N). It's the right thing to do, and you know you'll survive. And...I'll know."

"Sentiment, Tash? I didn't know you had it in you." You took a deep breath and stood, taking a few steps towards the massive bank of windows overlooking the city. "I guess we're both full of surprises."

Her fingers still danced frantically over the screen, trying to get messages to the director before you turned back to see her. "I guess we are."

You leaned forward over the railing, looking down at the busy street below, gauging how many floors were between you and the hard asphalt. Natasha wasn't as clever as she thought, and you could see her in the reflection on the glass. From the corner of your eye, you spotted the brigade of black vehicles making their way closer, and the sound of Tony's suit suddenly filled the room.

"Don't run, (Y/N)," Nat pleaded, "if you do this right, you can still have a future. With us."

"Or with you?"

"Maybe both," she conceded quietly. Tony had taken a few steps closer but she raised her hand to stop him. Clint and Steve were at the ready on the other side of the room, with the shield and bow in their hands. "Don't run."

"I'm not going to run," you whispered, still staring at the ground below for a moment before finally turning to look at her. "Running is so...anticlimactic, don't you think?" With a broad smile you grabbed a chair as if to throw it into the window, knowing that between the three men, you would be assaulted with at least a repulsor blast or a throw of the shield. As luck would have it, you got both, ducking quickly so that their efforts shattered the window behind you just as you had hoped.

"Bye, babe. Until next time," you laughed, taking the form of a hawk just to get one last dig into Barton before you flew away.

Clint lowered his bow with a huff and an annoyed look on his face, "Dammit, she's good. She knows I can't shoot at her now, she's a hawk." He walked heavily over to Nat, who stood in awe of your power, not caring that you had escaped her and hoping that you would return again. "She's good," he reiterated, "but I still hate her."

Part 4

"Tash, what do you think you're doing?"

"You don't understand, (Y/N)," she groaned, rubbing her hand roughly across her forehead in frustration. She was not only frustrated with the situation within the team, but also that she had resorted to calling you for help. "It's...complicated."

You set your cup down on the small café table and waited for a moment, watching the stream rise from it and leave beads of condensation on its rim. It had shocked you that she would call to meet, and you had nearly said no, but her voice wasn't her own when she spoke, and you new that something serious was going on.

"Then make it uncomplicated for me. You're the one who called me, remember?" You shifted in your seat slightly, still keeping your eyes open for any sudden movements from the small café crowd or from the nearby street. Being so out in the open wasn't exactly the safest place for a person with your reputation. You leaned into the table and lowered your voice even thought there was no one within hearing range in any direction.

"It's Clint, Tash. Clint and Steve. How the hell do you expect to do this?"

"It's the right thing to do," she replied, but with a small shake of her head. "It is, right?"

"Natasha, give me one good reason for fighting your friends like this," you scoffed, leaning back in your chair and away from her again. "You know there's gonna be blood on the floor. None of you will be the same after this. So please, one reason."

She groaned and rested her head down on her folded arms that laid over the table; she mumbled a few words under her breath but they were too muffled for you to hear. The loose curls of her red hair spread out over her arms with a softness that you wanted nothing more than to touch, but you didn't dare. She had called you and trusted you somehow and for the first time, you didn't want to disappoint her.

"Tash..."

When she finally raised her head up to look at you, her eyes were reddened and sad; it was something you hadn't seen from her in ages. Not since you were together and trusted each other with your weaknesses. So did this mean that she was she trusting you now?

"I don't have one, (Y/N). But I know what I have to do."

~~~

Wearing a suit and carrying SHILD insignia on your fake nametag was an unnerving costume to commit to, trying to look confident in what you were doing and nearly failing. You had arranged a meeting with Steve, and if you had arrived in your true form he would have taken you into custody on sight, robbing you of your chance to talk. When you saw him approaching, looking equally as official in dark pants and a blue button-down shirt, you stood to greet him with a quick adjustment, smoothing out the material in your jacket.

"Captain Rogers," you said with an extended hand.

"Agent (Y/L/N)." He shook and released your hand, waving for you to sit again and to discuss the business you had called him for. "So, how can I be of service?"

"I need you to stop whatever is happening between you and Tony."

"I'm sorry?"

You took a deep breath and lowered your illusion to show yourself, reaching out to grab his arm when he tried to move away from you in his reaction. He had absolutely no reason to trust or help you, but who would be a better chance at it, in a world that hated you, more than Captain America himself?

"Captain, please don't leave. This is for Nat."

Surprisingly, he didn't pull his arm away, but now his eyes were seemingly staring into your soul, making you slightly uncomfortable at the intrusion. "Don't lie to me," he hissed.

"I'm not," you sneered in reply, "I need to protect her from..." you paused with a deep sigh, "I need to protect her from you. And from the bird brain."

"She chose the wrong side," he growled, now pulling his arm away from you harshly as he heard the words for the first time. "How the hell could she do that?" He took a few steps towards the window and rested his hands causally on his hips. "I don't want to fight her, (Y/N). I thought for sure..."

"That she would choose you?"

"Yeah."

With caution and deliberate steps, you moved to stand next to him, studying his face as he looked out the window, hoping to gauge where his mind was so you would know how to proceed. Do you go on, or do you turn and run? "It's killing her to think of fighting either of you, you know. She actually called me for advice."

"She must really be desperate."

"Thanks," you snickered. "Always honest, huh?" He only nodded, and there was no humor in his expression. You began to realize that maybe this was a fight that no one wanted to start, and no one more than Steve. You only knew him in your brief encounters, all of which had been less than ideal for making friends, but now you felt a need to help him.

"Steve, I have a plan."

~~~

"Captain, you seem a little defensive."

"Well it's been a long day."

Natasha was standing opposite of Steve as he inched closer to Tony, glancing up at you every few seconds with remorse filling her eyes. When she saw you all she could think of was how much she didn't want to be here; how much she regretted every decision in her life thus far that had brought her to this moment. In her private self-loathing, there was a detail that had escaped her, and would be nearly impossible for her to see. When she looked at you, she wasn't seeing you.

She was seeing Clint.

If she didn't want to fight him, then you would take his place and she would fight you. She didn't need to know until this was over; your skills matched hers and you knew you could hold your own. The real Clint had been positioned outside, waiting for a signal from you when it was time to switch.

When the fight fully broke open, she lunged at you, kicking out your leg and throwing you firmly onto your back to knock the breath from your chest for a moment. You recovered quickly, spinning to land an elbow to her jaw to throw her off her footing so that you could drop her to the ground. She kicked her legs forward to force her body up, grabbing the bow from your back, leaving you only a second to get your fingers around it.

"We're still friends, right?" she asked, trying to pull the bow from your grasp.

"Depends on how hard you hit me," you chided.

From there the fight continued for what felt like forever, and your body began to feel its effects to where you worried that you might not be able to maintain your façade. After taking a particularly violent hit, you saw Nat turn towards Steve from the corner of your eye; you searched desperately for Clint so that you could make the exchange.

"Rogers, she's coming for you," you warned, "we need to cross paths."

You maintained your illusion of Barton until Steve was just out of her sight. He stumbled briefly at the sight of himself staring back, uneasy about there being two of him now and what you would do with his likeness once she saw it. "Steve, go. She can't see this."

He hurried away just in time for her to appear before you, taking a firm stance and dropping her weight back to gain her balance for an attack. "I'm sorry, Steve," she panted, "decisions had to be made."

"You don't have to do this, Natasha. I don't want to fight you." Even though you were speaking for Steve in that moment, you meant the words you were saying. "I don't want to fight you anymore." She gave a confused look for only a brief second before she dove towards you, and only then did you realize that you didn't have Cap's shield.

Her legs were around your neck before you could react, yanking you to the ground with a firm hit. Your head bounced on the hard concrete and you winced loudly at the sting in your skin and the ache immediately growing in your skull. It took all of your strength to fight her now, and you did your best to mimic Steve's style.

"You're getting rusty in your old age, Rogers," she grunted with each move, "a little slow?"

"Hey, I'm like 98 years old now! I think I've held up really nicely!" you scoffed. "Have you seen my abs?!"

"What?" she paused, looking at you completely confused. "What did you just say?"

Standing slowly and feeling slightly dizzy from her hit, you brushed the dirt from your uniform and gave her a smile; it was a sharp contrast to the fight taking place around you. "Come on, Tash! I'm just trying to lighten the mood!"

"You never call me that...Steve...?"

"Shit," you mumbled to yourself, dropping the Captain's appearance and returning to your own form. "I guess I screwed that up, huh?"

Natasha charged forward and pushed you harshly back, her expression now nothing but a rage that admittedly made you a little bit afraid of her for the first time since you'd known her. "(Y/N)! What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Helping you!"

"How is this helping me?"

"You said that you didn't want to fight them," you replied with an anger building within you that could quickly rival hers. "I've never seen you like that, Tash, so I had to do something! You didn't want to fight them, so you got to fight me instead."

"Oh my god," she gasped, "did they help you do this?"

"Clearly," you scoffed, "we coordinated really well, don't ya think?" You took a deep breath and calmed slightly, reaching out to give her a jovial slap on the arm. "And you said that I would never get along with them."

"This is unbelievable," Nat groaned, shaking her head and looking for the real Clint and Steve though her mind was racing. "I just...can't...ugh, dammit..." she turned and took a large step towards you and grabbed your face, pressing her lips to yours as if she had been waiting a lifetime to do it. Your body tightened for an instant at the surprise, but quickly relaxed into acceptance of her. When she released you she stepped away, looking like she had surprised even herself.

"We're a mess together, honey," you chuckled, "you sure about that?"

Her fingers were grazing over her lips as she thought about it, looking as if she were lost within her own mind. She knew your pattern; show up, make a mess, and run. This certainly was a mess, so she had no reason to expect anything other than for you to disappear.

"Not really," she mumbled quietly in a near-whisper, "but you're gonna run now right? 'Until next time'?"

Keeping your eyes on her so that you could see every minute detail of her reaction, you reached down and lifted the edge of your jacket, revealing a blue workout shirt adorned with an Avengers logo across the chest. "Not this time. Steve seemed to think that the color suited me."

"Are you serious? Your staying?" she smiled, her face brightening at the realization.

"Yeah, now come on," you laughed, turning to run towards the fight, "let's go teach these boys how to kiss and make up!"

With her own laugh now joining yours, Natasha ran quickly to catch up with you. "I don't think that's gonna sell, (Y/N)!"  

Part 5

Natasha was the most beautiful woman you had ever known. The color of her hair contrasted her skin perfectly, and her eyes...well, her eyes were the color of spring. Their deep green was vast and comforting to you, even when you were in the midst of some of your harshest arguments. Even when the sight of you filled them with hatred. Even now when your vision began to haze and their color was glistening with tears.

"Nat," Tony said quietly, kneeling next to her and resting his hand on her arm, "hey, come on, let us take her inside."

"Don't touch me," she growled, shaking his hand away. "And he had better not touch her either. If he so much as looks at her, I'll kill him."

"Tash, don't be like that, Steve was doing what he had to do and so was I. I had to protect you." You took as deep of a breath as you could despite the pain that ravaged your chest as if it were on fire, looking up at her and into the eyes that you needed to keep you calm. "I didn't realize how hard he actually throws that thing."

"He's going to pay for this."

"No, you're going to let go. Tash..." you paused, releasing a harsh cough that jolted her to attention, looking up at Vision and Tony with pleading for them to do something, but they knew there was nothing to be done. "If you go after Steve, I'll haunt your ass so hard..."

The only reaction that you sought from her was a smile, even if small and even if it wasn't genuine; you wanted to see it one last time, and she obliged for only a flash of a second. "I can't lose you," she whispered through the breaks in her voice and the ragged breaths that began to shake her body. "I just got you back." She pushed a few stray hairs from your face and cradled you in her lap, looking at the rest of her team as they gave her privacy for your last moments together. "Don't do this to me, (Y/N). Just stop."

You could feel your temperature change and the sensation in your hands and feet began to falter. The pain in your chest suddenly left as fast as it had arrived and you felt...nothing. "Tash, I love you," you rushed to say, needing her to hear it again after so long without having said it, before you lost your chance. She leaned down and pressed her perfect lips to yours, holding them there as if she could push her life into you and get just a few more minutes. When she finally and reluctantly pulled back, you were gone.

~~~

"What the hell is he doing?" Sam whispered to Scott, keeping their distance from Natasha with the rest of Steve's team.

"I don't know, man. I've got a bad feeling about it, though."

Steve now stood alone, with his team ordered to hold back and his shield placed at his feet on the hard concrete. He took a few steps towards Natasha, his face solemn and pleading as he watched her set you gently on the ground next to her. He wanted her to come at him; he wanted her to take out her rage in every way she knew. He wanted her to get her revenge and make his own pain diminish hers. Steve dropped his hands to his sides and held his position, waiting for her to make the first move.

"I'm not going to fight you, Natasha. You're my friend."

She clenched her teeth and looked down at you, lifeless but no less beautiful, and remembered your words, that you wanted her to let go. You wanted her to let him go, but she couldn't. The longer she looked at you, the greater her red-hot rage became and her judgment clouded with it. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)," she whispered. "I guess you'll just have to haunt me. At least then I'll see you again." When she looked back at the Captain, he had removed his helmet and gloves, thrown aside atop his shield.

"Do it, Nat," he nodded. "Don't hold back."

"Not a problem," she hissed, charging forward with all of the speed and fury that she could gather, throwing every ounce of anger and hatred at a man she used to call her friend. A man who welcomed whatever fate she would hand him, never once raising a hand in his own defense. To Natasha, the war had become her own, but to Steve, it was finally coming to an end.