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They found him...she found him...in a little village just outside of Uijeongbu.
She wasn't there, but he knew, the moment he saw the strike team that arrived when the Hydra operatives made their presence known. He did his best to keep to himself, to stay out of sight, but the moment he saw SHIELD agents on the scene...
He knew.
The debriefing took place at the Avengers headquarters, but she was still nowhere in sight. He figured that he had it coming, that, but the longer he went without catching a glimpse of Natasha, the more anxious he got. He was, of course, expecting backlash for what he'd done, some kind of response...but the worst part was the simple reality.
She was here. Somewhere, she was here. He could feel it...even the Other Guy could feel it. It was thoroughly unscientific, the notion that some sixth sense or bond was calling to his subconscious across an unknown space...but the more time went by, the tighter he wound, to the point that he was worried about a Code Green.
When he couldn't take it anymore, he went looking. He found plenty: Sam and Rhodey, amiable and welcoming. Wanda, enigmatically smiling and shaking his hand with fragile, dangerous fingers...the Vision, who managed to turn a bow and a small, elegant smile into something that felt like a hug. He even found Steve, who held him up for an hour and a half, insisting they share a cup of coffee (or in Bruce's case, an herbal tea).
Only then did he tell Bruce where Natasha's office and room were in the facility.
Her office was empty, which left him shuffling up to the door of her apartment in the dormitory wing. For a long while, he stood outside, just staring at the blank white surface. Irrationally, he thought about the dress Natasha wore at the party where Ultron was born...blood red martinis and a flirty film noir swatted back and forth between them, something that turned into more, bigger, weightier than he ever expected.
Drawing a deep, shaky breath, Bruce raised his hand...then dropped it.
And finally, knocked on her door.
She wasn't there, but he knew, the moment he saw the strike team that arrived when the Hydra operatives made their presence known. He did his best to keep to himself, to stay out of sight, but the moment he saw SHIELD agents on the scene...
He knew.
The debriefing took place at the Avengers headquarters, but she was still nowhere in sight. He figured that he had it coming, that, but the longer he went without catching a glimpse of Natasha, the more anxious he got. He was, of course, expecting backlash for what he'd done, some kind of response...but the worst part was the simple reality.
She was here. Somewhere, she was here. He could feel it...even the Other Guy could feel it. It was thoroughly unscientific, the notion that some sixth sense or bond was calling to his subconscious across an unknown space...but the more time went by, the tighter he wound, to the point that he was worried about a Code Green.
When he couldn't take it anymore, he went looking. He found plenty: Sam and Rhodey, amiable and welcoming. Wanda, enigmatically smiling and shaking his hand with fragile, dangerous fingers...the Vision, who managed to turn a bow and a small, elegant smile into something that felt like a hug. He even found Steve, who held him up for an hour and a half, insisting they share a cup of coffee (or in Bruce's case, an herbal tea).
Only then did he tell Bruce where Natasha's office and room were in the facility.
Her office was empty, which left him shuffling up to the door of her apartment in the dormitory wing. For a long while, he stood outside, just staring at the blank white surface. Irrationally, he thought about the dress Natasha wore at the party where Ultron was born...blood red martinis and a flirty film noir swatted back and forth between them, something that turned into more, bigger, weightier than he ever expected.
Drawing a deep, shaky breath, Bruce raised his hand...then dropped it.
And finally, knocked on her door.
