Date: May 17, 2023
Words: 2160

~ Author's Note ~

Lyrics belong to Lorde, Everybody Wants to Rule the World

It's my birthday, bitches!! Have a treat!

Ross is ruining Natasha's name...

10 weeks pregnant

Acting on your best behavior
Turn your back on mother nature
Everybody wants to rule the world

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July 20, 2016

Voices are heard screaming through the screen, there are lights flashing a hundred miles per hour. Reporters are yelling their questions, demanding answers. There is a polite smile along the curve of Ross's lips, while he makes his way behind the podium. He slides his hands along the edges, clenching the wood tightly, preparing himself mentally for his speech.

"Everyone, everyone," Ross begins calmly, waving his hand as a sign for everyone to quieten down. "On July 18th the Avengers – known as Clint Barton, Scott Lang, Sam Wilson, and Wanda Maximoff – have escaped the Raft with the help of fellow fugitives Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff."

Several eyes glare into the screen, and their muscles tighten at the mention of the prison. Natasha focuses her attention on the voices blaring through the device, as people begin yelling through fear or demanding for action to take place.

Ross smiles lightly, noticing the effect of his words on the people before him. "Remember, if you see them, do not engage. They are dangerous individuals, and won't hesitate to cause harm if you get in their way. We have issued warrants to search within Avenger's Compound, for any materials belonging to the fugitives to give any clue as to their whereabouts."

"In addition," Ross pauses, taking a deep breath, "The UN is supporting Russia in their extradition of Natasha Romanoff; also known as Natalia Alianovna Romanov, Natalie Rushman," And the man continues to name off twenty other aliases.

Natasha tries not to focus on the nausea quelling in her belly, ignoring the concerned glances sent her way. It's nothing new – for the government to try to remove her – the council had multiple times at SHIELD. But Fury had always managed to find a way around them. Except he can't help her now... And she shakes her head, forcing herself to focus, attempting to register the words out of his mouth.

"—been confirmed that Romanoff was involved in over a dozen deaths found along the remains of a destroyed helicarrier." The screen flashes to show the carnage of the Red Room and all the destruction caused. Names begin to appear at the edge of the screen, belonging to the guards and other associates of the room. The next image they show freezes the air in her lungs.

It's Dreykov.

A young Dreykov, in all his former glory.

"One individual has been confirmed as former General Dreykov. He has ties to an organization formally known as the Red Room, the organization Romanoff received her training from. Many believe based on her actions in Leipzig, Germany in aiding fellow fugitive Steve Rogers escape with fugitive James Barnes, all previous acts of terrorism, theft of government property, and nearly four dozen confirmed counts of assassinations against this country could be seen as war crimes."

"That son of a bitch..." Steve clenches his jaw, bawling his hands into a fist in a weak attempt at controlling his anger. Everyone can feel the thick tension spreading in the air. And wisely, no one tries to use his foul choice of language to lighten the mood. He hears Clint muttering in agreement before him. But Natasha places her hand along the curve of his forearm, distracting him from his raging thoughts.

"I know many of you have questions, and we'll begin to address a few now. Romanoff is a master manipulator, and it is believed she has swayed the loyalties of fellow fugitive Clint Barton – as he was behind her recruitment to SHIELD, and through years of close partnership they were known formally as Strike Team Delta. Rumors are beginning to circulate over the loyalty of Steve Rogers, as he worked closely with Romanoff behind the scenes of the Avengers."

Ross pauses, watching carefully as different emotions begin to spread throughout the crowd before him. Fear. Shock. Horror. Emotions directed toward Natasha. The Avengers. It's perfect. Exactly what he wants.

"Now, given Romanoff's previous relationship with Tony Stark and her other former teammates, the committees forbade the Avengers from taking part in the hunt and capture of the fugitives. We have our best men working on bringing them in alive. They are dangerous. Call the authorities immediately and do not engage them under any circumstances. Thank you for your time."

Everyone waits with a bated breath while the Secretary bids his goodbyes and exits the stage. Quickly, another news reporter takes his place, but the screen blackens, causing them all to divert their attention, while awkward silence fills the air.

Natasha tightens her grip on Steve's arm and her belly, stubbornly forcing herself to glance up and observe all the other emotions surging through the room. Steve's easy, because he is literally vibrating underneath her hand. Clint is the same. She sees his fingers clenching around the chair arm beside her, and she can tell he's about three minutes away from hunting down Ross and taking care of the problem himself.

Sam is shifting in his seat anxiously, glancing at Steve from across the table. It's clear that he's observing the older man's reaction, waiting patiently for the upcoming explosion he knows is coming. And Wanda is twisting the rings around her fingers in an attempt to distance herself from the intense situation. There are bandages covering the burns on her neck, and the exhaustion is evident through the dark circles under her eyes. She's just a kid. Just 18 years old.

T'Challa is observing the group much like herself from the head seat; his thoughts are carefully hidden behind a mask from the untrained eye. Okoye is guarding the door, her expression the same as her King's. But Scott is watching the room with wide eyes. His nervousness is clear; as he bites his lip, struggling against the words about to flow.

And unsurprisingly, he speaks first.

"Well, that was... that was..." Scott begins, stuttering anxiously, as everyone begins to look his way. "That... that was harsh."

Sam chuckles bitterly, "You think?"

"They can't do this," Steve begins sternly, ignoring the conversation happening before him. "They can not use this – your past – against you!"

"Steve..." Natasha begins hesitantly.

"No!" Tony's voice cuts through the conversation, as he anxiously paces over the hologram. "They are dragging your name through the mud, red! They have no right to blame the Avengers mess on you – you're the only one who tried to keep the team together. And they definitely can't pin all the shit with Dreykov on you. He deserved everything he got and worse."

Natasha shakes her head, her mask crumbling slightly at the mention of the bastard's name, and she runs her fingers through the tangled mess of her hair. "It doesn't matter to them, Tony. People like Ross – will do and say whatever they need to in order to get what they want or to control the narrative. Ross has never been shy over his feelings toward me. And something like this is the perfect opportunity to get what he wants."

"But why you?" Clint asks harshly, "Ross could use this to throw all of us under the bridge. But he's focusing on you. Why?"

"I'm the scapegoat, the logical play."

"You're not the person they're painting you as," Steve comments, drawing her attention. He places his hand over hers, squeezing it gently under the table. "You're an Avenger. You don't do those things anymore."

"But I used to," Natasha replies through her clenched jaw. "I did all of those things and more. I killed people. And I didn't care... I'm a weapon."

"Nat..." Steve shakes his head, struggling to find the right words to get through to her, but before the words have a chance to slip past his lips, Natasha interrupts him.

"Right now we need to focus on our next move," she begins, "We need to lay low, stay off the radar, at least for a couple of months. And T'Challa, we thank you for your generosity truly, but we don't want to impose our welcome."

"Miss. Romanoff, allow me to assure you, that none of you are imposing on your welcome. I've invited you all to stay in Wakanda for as long as you need," The King pauses, subtly tilting his head toward the direction of her belly, "We have medical resources at your disposal and can offer protection."

"Thank you truly," Natasha smiles tightly, "But we can't. I have safe houses that will sustain us. We can keep in touch, especially over the accords and Ja - Barnes. We will be fine."

T'Challa nods mutely, as a knowing look grows through his dark irises. The heavy weight of the past few weeks is running her down. And though it is not obvious to the normal eye, anyone with advanced training can see the toll it's taking on her. So if she needs a break, needs to disappear from the face of the Earth: he will not be the one to stop her. And from the looks of things, she's not going to be alone.

"Well, Red..." Tony begins slowly, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "Even though you need to lay low and I, of course, am an extremely busy man. I'll still expect weekly updates on your precious cargo."

"Of course," Natasha promises, smiling gently. She tilts her head, giving Tony a knowing glance, "Don't piss off Ross too much."

"Ohhh..." Tony smirks, getting ready to shut down the hologram. "I've been leaving him on hold. Talk to you later, Red. Steve." He pauses, hesitantly nodding at the rest of the room, before signing off.

"Okay... so am I the only one that's confused on when Stark and you started talking again?" Sam asks, as he sends an expectant glance toward Steve. Scott nods in agreement, curious as to the answer himself. And even Wanda glances up from her rings.

"It's a... it's a long story," Steve decides.

He glances worriedly at Natasha, at the knuckle-white grip she has on her stomach. This is not the time to get into that story. It's too fresh. Too personal. Natasha's in no position to go over the details. And Steve refuses to tell the story without her. It is her past. He doesn't have the right.

Clint frowns, ignoring the headache growing within his mind, while he frantically goes over Tony's words again and again. There was something he said. Clint shakes his head, mumbling under his breath, "Updates on your precious cargo."

"What?" Natasha asks full of surprise, turning sharply, after she catches his last two words.

"What did Tony mean by "precious cargo?"

"Umm..." Natasha stutters, glancing at Steve, only for him to send an encouraging nod. "Ummm... I'm... I'm pregnant."

"You're... You're pregnant?" Clint gasps, straightening up in his chair, and not even noticing the others having the same shocked reaction to the news. The woman in front of him is a stuttering mess, struggling to form any coherent words, as tears begin to flow freely down her flushed cheeks.

Though she manages a small smile, a true smile.

And Clint doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around the redhead. Her body is trembling in his arms, though she holds onto him just as tightly as he holds onto her. Clint notices Steve smiling in relief over his shoulder, and he begins to smile himself.

She's not going to go through this alone.

"I'm proud of you, kid," he whispers.

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Of freedom and of pleasure
Nothing ever lasts forever

XX

~ Author's Note ~

What do you think? Ideas? Questions?

Natasha has PTSD... everyone is worried...

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Next Chapter:

Burning cities and napalm skies
Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes

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Natasha smiles brightly, leaning into his arms. It's nice here. In this room, where it's just them. There's nothing to worry about. Because right now, they are wrapped in each other's arms. And it's perfect. For the moment, it is peaceful.

They can worry about Ross in a couple of hours. When the sun is up and everyone else is awake, they'll focus on every other problem they have. Focus on searching for Rose. On protecting their location. About Wanda. It is a never-ending cycle. But for a moment, it's just him and her. Just Steve and Natasha.

Her stunning emerald irises stare into his blues. Steve smiles, placing a hand against her cheek. He rubs his fingers along her jaw, pulling her closer to his chest, as his lips collide with hers. Their kiss is gentle. Soothing and meaningful.

And Natasha smiles, her lips hovering over his, before gazing deep into his eyes. She leans forward, pressing her forehead against his, breathing his captivating rich vanilla scent.