Painful Truth

Location: Los Angeles

Date: June 24 2008

I came to check the house the same day, wanting to see if I needed to do anything before moving in. As I suspected, Stark had taken care of everything. The house was already furnished, and there was even some art on the walls — I didn't need to do anything except move in.

The next day, I spent time organising and moving my stuff from my old apartment. The biggest issue was the old Civic. There was no easy access to public transportation from my new home, so I ended up taking a taxi to my old place and then driving the Civic back.

By the time I finished unpacking the essentials and collapsed onto the couch, it was late evening. Exhausted, all I could think about was that I never wanted to move again — maybe ever.

But there was one issue that I couldn't and shouldn't postpone any longer.

It had been almost a month since Stark announced to the world that he was Iron Man. Or, if I counted the time since I returned from the dead — coming back in time — it had been exactly 60 days, 3 hours, and 12 minutes. Well, thirteen minutes now.

I still hadn't told Stark the truth about his parents' deaths. To be honest, every excuse I made to justify the delay was valid and solid, at least in my head. Still, I knew I was procrastinating.

Honestly, how could I not?

When Tony learned the truth the last time, he didn't handle it well. I bet I wouldn't handle it well in his shoes, either.

Unfortunately, the Red Room made sure that it never happened — I don't even have a silver lining about who my parents were. The closest person I have to family is my fake sister Yelena, my fellow survivor of the Red Room training.

At first, I thought maybe I needed to set up a meeting, make it sombre and businesslike, and find the perfect time when he wasn't dealing with the most urgent issues and, I don't know, processing his trauma.

My old habits and training urged me to orchestrate it so that I would be deeply ingrained in his mind as a trusted ally or even a friend, giving me control over both him and the situation.

Old habits die hard, right?

In the end, I sat in my new home, watching the sunset and taking a swig from a bottle of vodka, contemplating what to do. That's when I decided to send Stark the file I had written about the Winter Soldier program.

Not even twenty minutes later, I heard the screeching sound of brakes from outside. Moments later, the front door slammed and hurried footsteps approached the living room.

It looks like Stark is here. I didn't even turn around, taking another swig from the bottle. (My inner observer gave me a solid ten for creating a perfect scene to manipulate Stark's feelings. I needed to wash that thought away, and vodka was good for that.)

Stark was enraged. I could feel it radiating from him as he paused at the door frame. Maybe he expected something different, maybe the bottle of vodka in my hands was too absurd, or maybe he just forgot how to speak. In the end, he said nothing as he made his way over.

He abruptly sat down next to me on the right and pried the bottle from my hand. I let it go, and he took a solid gulp. I looked at him with a bit of surprise.

"The fuck you drink, Strawberry?" Oh, he used my nickname, so he's not mad at me.

"Smirnoff," I replied curtly. He drank more, and I raised an eyebrow.

When he passed the bottle back to me, I took a swig as well.

And so we drank, first one bottle and then more until the sun completely disappeared over the horizon, and we could only see each other in shades. Neither of us bothered to turn on the lights.

"I am going to destroy them," he proclaimed into the darkness.

We had finished the last bottle of vodka I had at home fifteen minutes ago. We were drunk as hell. I was sure that if I tried to stand up, I would need to invoke all my training just to walk straight in my current condition. It took me a few moments to process what Stark had actually said.

"Good," I agreed.

We passed out right there on the couch, where Pepper found us the next morning.

🕷

I woke up still drunk. That was the only excuse I had for Stark's head resting on my stomach while he nestled between my legs. At least we were still dressed, I mused to myself.

Just then, a glass of water appeared in my blurred vision. I didn't question its origin, focusing solely on grabbing it without missing by a mile.

As I finished drinking the divine and blessed essence of life, ready to worship whoever brought it to me, I noticed a fuming Pepper standing over us.

"Hey," I tried to say, though I'm sure I screwed it up.

Stark stirred, and I suddenly realised how numb my legs were and the urgent need to pee. While he attempted and failed to sit up, I debated how to make it to the bathroom. Should I crawl? Ask Pepper? I couldn't ignore it — Black Widow doesn't pee her pants because her legs are asleep. Unless I'm in a sniper nest, then it's allowed. Am I? Where's my rifle? Damn, I'm not.

I longingly looked toward the bathroom.

At some point, Pepper's expression shifted from fuming to amused. Stark found his way to the bottle of water and drank it as if it were the last one on Earth. I wanted it, too, but I'd definitely pee myself if I drank more. Damn. I needed to get to the bathroom.

Crawling it is, I decided, letting myself drop from the sofa.

"Natali!" I heard Pepper's horrified voice but ignored it, attempting to crawl. Unfortunately, it was only in my mind — I still had my face planted on the floor.

🕷

I think I passed out for a moment because the next time I opened my eyes, I was already in the washroom, sitting on the toilet and experiencing divine bliss. I didn't even care that I couldn't remember how I got there or whether I had taken my jeans off.

🕷

Eventually, I surfaced from my drunken sleep, mostly due to the afternoon sunlight flickering over my face. Someone had left a window open, and the shades were moving with the afternoon breeze, making a rattling sound and sending rays of sunlight straight into my eyes.

The first thing I recognised was that I was in my bed, in my room, and pretty much naked. I couldn't even remember how it happened. If Stark fucked me, I'm going to cut his arc reactor and shove it so deep in his ass that it can protect his heart from the inside.

There were no signs of Stark in the room or any indication he had ever been here. Small mercies, I thought to myself as I made my way steadily to the shower. Weird glimpses of me crawling under the table and hiding from enemy soldiers flashed through my mind. Weird.

🕷

I didn't feel like dressing up, so I wore a long, baggy shirt instead of a nightie. When I made it to the kitchen, I found Pepper and Stark sitting there. Stark was nursing his head with a cold bottle of water, and Pepper seemed more amused than upset.

It was too late to change my mind. They had already seen me in a similar state a few days ago, anyway. I just came in and made my way to the coffee machine. In the chrome reflection of the coffee maker, I saw Stark trying not to let his eyes wander up my legs while Pepper blushed and averted her gaze. Then, she noticed Stark looking at me and swatted him on the head.

It was amusing.

"Coffee, anyone?" I asked without turning around.

They both declined, so to play with them a bit more, I stretched up to the shelf to reach a fresh cup. Of course, it was unnecessary; I had a clean cup right next to the sink. Shirt dangerously rode up, and I saw both of them comically widen their eyes in the reflection.

"So, what's going on?" I asked as soon as I sat and sipped my coffee — one sugar, two creams, and steamed milk.

A pile of newspapers and magazines lay on the table that I didn't have yesterday — definitely not my favourite sources of information or ways to spend leisure time.

Pepper slid one magazine my way. On the cover, I found myself in a dramatically captured moment of taking off my helmet. It was taken a few days ago when I came for an unexpected suit test.

I looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Read it," she said instead of clarifying. I shrugged and opened it.

Well, it could be worse. The article Pepper mentioned had fresh news: Stark had spent the whole night at the place of the new girl in town, and at nine a.m., his car was still parked on the property. They speculated that it was a sign we were definitely in a sexual relationship and were trying to guess if I was a gold digger or if Stark had finally found someone to keep around.

I shuffled through the other magazines and newspapers on the table, catching headlines:

"Stark's New Flame: PI in the Picture"

"Hero Meets Hero: Iron Man's Secret Sleepover"

"Stark's Latest: PI Sparks Romance Rumors"

"From Models to Mystery: Stark's PI Affair"

"You, both of you, are a PR disaster," Pepper said, her voice laced with clear annoyance.

"Even I would believe what they wrote if I hadn't personally dragged you," she pointed a finger at me, "to the washroom and then to your bed."

"And you," she pointed a finger at Stark, "what were you even thinking? The PR team woke me up at 6 a.m. with messages saying they hate their job, hate me, and hate you!"

"Give them a bonus?" Stark mistakenly suggested.

"Of fucking course, they get a bonus!" Pepper snapped, a rare sign of her losing her cool.

It made me think about what actually happened during those hours when Pepper was apparently dragging me to my bed. Another weird flash of memory surfaced — me starting to peel my clothes off while still in the washroom, sitting on the toilet.

Well, at least one mystery was solved — I had wondered who undressed me and how I got to bed. The last thing I remember clearly is Stark and me opening the third bottle. How many did we drink yesterday?

I shook my head, focusing on the present.

"You left us no other option to handle it," I caught the end of her rant. Stark looked properly chastised but a bit resentful as he said, "I already don't like it."

"Don't care. Deal with it. You both are going to the fundraising event, 'Clean Water for the Poor,' where you are going to give a speech about your water filters!" Pepper strong-armed Stark into compliance. She certainly knew how to use misfortune to her advantage.

Then it hit me.

"Why am I going there?"

🕷

Pepper left us to our hangover misery, chin up and shoulders square. To be honest, she had a win here. Both of us were going to attend that fundraiser and play along with the image of "we are friends, not lovers." At this point, I suspected it would fail badly.

A problem for the future, I guess.

I went to change even before Pepper left, hoping to find some silence and not have my house occupied by an uninvited guest when I emerged.

"Stark, why are you still here?" were my first words when I found him still in my living room.

Stark ignored me, continuing to fiddle with his phone and the TV on the wall.

"Aha, got it!" Stark exclaimed as the screen lit up with a booting logo. A few seconds later, it was replaced with yesterday's visual representation of the timeline.

"Jarvis, leave only information related to HYDRA."

"Certainly, Sir," Jarvis's voice came from the TV speaker, and the image rearranged itself, placing Zola, Pierce, Strucker, Malick, Whitehall, Hive, and all current HYDRA heads at the centre of the screen with lines of events.

Only then did Stark turn to me and say, "I want them gone, like yesterday. We need a plan."

"We should start with Zola," I suggested. "If we can remove and replace him with some kind of simulation, we can have a mole in their ranks." It sounded simple to me.

Stark was silent for a moment but eventually replied, "It's not gonna work."

When I raised an eyebrow, silently asking for an explanation, he shrugged and elaborated, "It doesn't work like that. If I make a simulation good enough to represent him, it might become him as well. AI, at least my AI, wouldn't be able to pretend. It either is or it isn't. Making anything less than that is going to fail."

There went a good plan out the window. It was a good idea.

"We can find a way to tap into their communication with Zola. It will take time to figure out their encryption codes, of course, but that's better than nothing," added Stark.

I shrugged and replied, "Good enough to begin with, but not enough to wage a war against them."

"Hmm," Stark hummed absently, then opened a file on SHIELD.

"What we can do is get into SHIELD files. You said that one HYDRA branch has infiltrated SHIELD deeply. If we can gain full access to their system, we can start to unravel all HYDRA personnel within SHIELD."

I nodded along with what he said. Yes, intelligence gathering is the first step.

"What about other branches?"

"Sir, I believe I can help with that," JARVIS said unexpectedly.

"Go ahead, Jarvis," replied Stark.

"Sir, you recently optimised my pattern prediction algorithm to find members of the human trafficking organization for Miss Romanova. If I have sufficient data, I might be able to use it to find other HYDRA members."

Stark was almost gaping. Well, not really. It takes a bit more than that to flabbergast him completely, but it was close enough.

"Jarvis, that is... a great idea." Then he turned to me with a sour expression and said, "I might have been behind the HYDRA algorithm that you wrote about."

I immediately understood him. Project Insight's Helicarriers were built with Stark's help, and it wasn't a big leap to think that SHIELD asked him to create a prediction algorithm.

A shiver ran down my spine. JARVIS now possessed the beginnings of that algorithm, and he had been using it for a month to help me track down trafficking members.

It was that algorithm that made me agree with Steve to destroy SHIELD, the Helicarriers, and so many other people who had nothing to do with it. The death toll was so significant that it took the Snap to overcome my failing on that day and that decision. It was a turning point in my life where I understood that I had no right to make such decisions and needed to follow someone more versed in ethical limits. That's why I chose Steve back then, right? If I didn't stick with him, then I made a wrong call with SHIELD. I wasn't ready to face that truth back then, and I'm not ready now.

I was spiralling down again. I felt the blood on my hands, on my skin. The rising disgust with myself burned at the back of my throat, and I felt like I was going to vomit.

"I got you," I heard Stark's voice through the rushing blood in my ears.

I felt his hands around me, and I just broke.

Black Widows do not cry. What a fucking shit is that?

🕷

It took me time to calm down and get back to my senses. I felt warm and safe. Stark was holding me in his arms, and his shirt (which smelled awful because he hadn't had a chance to change it since I didn't even want to think when) was soaked with my tears.

He understood me; I could feel it. He was as raw right now as I was. As I told him, I believe in him, but at the same time, I've accepted that both of us are damaged people. With good intentions, the road to hell is paved. We need someone to manage us both so we don't go off the deep end, thinking we're doing it better. My future past was a raw example of that.

"We're gonna fail," I mumbled to myself.

"What was that?" Stark asked.

"We need someone else on the team, or we're gonna fail," I said louder.

"Hm," was all he said, but I felt that he understood me.

We were silent for a while. I mentally went over the list of people with whom we could conspire in our little club of misery.

SHIELD was out of the question — any of them. Clint was too loyal to SHIELD even to approach. He didn't know me; we never spent those days together in that shithole under Budapest. And he had his own personal graveyard — good operative, bad leadership. I laughed a bit, remembering my resolution for Stark.

Steve was also out of the question, even if we could find him before SHIELD did. As soon as Bucky entered the picture, Steve was compromised. Now, I could see that many of his decisions were questionable at best. Perhaps he had good intentions, but the end result was, well...

"Pepper?" Stark interrupted my process of crossing people out.

I thought about it for a moment. Pepper had become CEO when Stark was in the process of dying. He trusted her with SI and believed that she would do good by his standards. And she did. Thanks to her leadership, Earth didn't collapse into a medieval age of chaos after the Snap. She was Stark's lifeline through all of that as well. Who else, indeed?

"Pepper," I agreed.

🕷