Chapter Text
If the last six months had taught you anything, it was that you should always trust your instincts.
Always.
In fact, if you had just trusted that aching gut feeling in the first place, your life wouldn’t be as upside down as it currently was. Though, from an outside perspective, it certainly looked like you had your shit together. Cute studio apartment in Brooklyn Heights - which was more than enough space for you and your cat Luigi. You commuted into Manhattan every day for your job at Stark Industries - Research Analyst for the Public Relations team. It wasn’t much but the pay was good enough.
Sometimes you went to a spin class after work. Sometimes you went to the farmers market in Park Slope. More often than not though, over the last few weeks you usually spent your evenings with your new boyfriend Sean.
Sean was someone you were glad to have trusted your gut with, at least. When he had approached you outside the vet office, with rosy cheeks and a nervous stutter, his quiet charm had won you over easily. You had been taking things slow as you possibly could - mainly because, well, you had to have your guard up. At least part way up.
(Actually, if you read through the thorough details of your contract and the stipulations of the agreement you were legally obligated to - the contract that ensured your safety and wellbeing after the big, dangerous incident - you shouldn’t have ever let Sean into your life. Especially not into your bed.)
(But you had been lonely.)
(You had kept it very close to your chest, at least.)
Your instincts though. When you woke up that morning, something immediately felt wrong. Normally you could talk yourself down from the irrational stir of anxiety but there was just something in the air. You were wide awake a few minutes before your alarm. Luigi was hissing at the windowsill, going through his usual routine of cursing at the pigeons on your fire escape.
Your electric kettle refused to turn on. You dropped your piece of toast peanut butter side down straight onto the floor. You opted for sneakers instead of heels, even though your white converse were definitely not dress code appropriate. These things, the shift in choices and changes in your normal step-by-step routine, left you unsettled. You pulled your hair into a messy ponytail, grabbed your coat and headed out.
Once you got to your subway stop, things started to feel even worse. Usually you didn’t mind the morning commute - mainly because you had a growing list of podcasts you saved exclusively for the journey. You hesitated before securing your headphones, though. Because that unsettling feeling that had started as just an itch was quickly growing into some weird full body electricity. You were lucky enough to secure a seat near the end of the train, right near the back doors. You shifted slightly, leaving your headphones secured but silent. With one hand you gripped the strap of your backpack as it rested in front of your feet. Your other hand was balled into a fist, tiny crescent shapes from your nails digging into your palm.
Something was wrong.
What was the protocol when something was wrong?
Try to determine the issue. Your eyes flicked around the crowd - the big crowd. There were school kids, teenagers, business men, musicians, grandmothers; New York was diverse and your average subway ride reflected that. But that’s when you noticed a man on the opposite end of the train. His eyes were focused only on you . He was mumbling something, covering half of his face with his hand while he pressed a finger to his ear.
Was he.. Was he communicating with someone? While he stared directly at you?
What was the protocol? God. This was definitely a case of WWNRD - because what would Natasha Romanoff do if she was in your position?
Well, frankly, she would never be in your position. Because there is no way she would have been stupid enough to try and intervene when a very obvious team of bad guys were breaking into an abandoned storefront and -
You winced at the memory, scrunching your entire face up as you pushed those thoughts away. Your fingers instinctively grabbed the gold chain that rested around your neck, rubbing your index finger and thumb against the pendant that sat against your chest. A nervous habit that somehow grounded you enough to clear your mind for a minute. You looked back through the crowd as casually as you could, blinking twice as you collected your thoughts and did everything in your power not to fantasize about worst case scenarios.
What. Would. Natasha. Do.
She would try to remember some details about the brute staring at her while she planned an escape route. Admittedly, doing both of those things seemed like too much. So, instead of spending any more time looking over at him - you listened very carefully to the train announcements to see which stop was approaching. You made no movement to indicate you were going to get out at the next stop - it was two stops before you usually got out - and when the train finally slowed and some of the crowd shuffled forward, you quickly hid yourself behind a kid with a large guitar case and slinked through the doors.
Then, you moved as quickly as you possibly could.
Sitting around the boardroom on one of the top floors of the tower was Tony, Natasha, Steve and Clint. Sam and Wanda were both out at the compound training agents. Bucky was on the first day of his week off. Thor was completely off planet. Bruce was at some conference in Miami.
They had only gotten through the first two mission reports from the previous week when the sentient lilt of FRIDAY sounded out.
“Boss - there’s a small security concern coming your way.”
That piqued everyone’s interest but Tony seemed unconcerned. “Define small.”
“Apparently an employee stole an ID badge to get into the elevator with clearance for your level. She’s insisting on speaking to Miss Romanoff.”
One of Tony’s eyebrows shot up curiously, turning his gaze from the screen ahead of them towards Natasha herself. “What did I tell you about dating coworkers, dear?”
Natasha shook her head. “I don’t think that’s what this is about. FRIDAY, can you have security bring her to us?”
Steve, who had moved from casually sitting to casually standing to standing with his arms crossed , took a step towards Tony. “Are you worried about this?”
“Not without all the details, Cap. Nat seems unbothered so.” Tony shrugged an arm but raised his wrist slightly, tapping against his not-so-secret Iron Man gauntlet that lived in his watch. “I’m more so impressed by whoever figured out this plan to get up here.”
Clint, who was still sitting quietly at the end of the table, leaned back in his chair. “I’m excited to see this play out.”
When the boardroom doors finally flew open, Natasha greeted the guards at the door. The two bulky looking agents were holding you by the arms, having walked you very quickly and quietly from the elevator.
“She swiped this from one of the guards in the lobby.” One of the agents yanked out a clear ID badge from his pocket and handed it to Natasha, who just smirked at you.
You frowned but made certain to meet Natasha’s eyes, locking in her gaze with your blown open pupils. With a deep breath, you blinked your eyes a few times to try and speak to her without really speaking. “Sorry, I didn’t really think this through. But I’m pretty sure something is wrong and I know this is against the-
Natasha held up her hand to stop you and waved the guards away. “She’s fine, you can leave her with me.” She handed the badge back to the same agent. “Maybe remind this guy about security procedures.”
“I’d suggest he wear his badge on a lanyard instead of a waist hook,” you suggested as they let go of your arms. “Sorry for the trouble, fellas.”
“Are you hurt? What happened?” Natasha spoke quietly as the agents departed, pulling you into the boardroom and closing the doors again.
You dropped into the closest chair, taking a deep breath and opening your mouth. Before you replied though, you realized there were three additional sets of eyes on you. Of course, you knew exactly who they were.
Tony Stark - Iron Man himself. Dressed in a graphic tee and jeans, which had you questioning the employee dress code if the literal company owner clearly had no sense of what business casual meant. Clint Barton - Hawkeye. He was already smirking, like he knew exactly who you were. And lastly, Steve Rogers aka Captain America. He stood tall and unyielding, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at you. His eyes flicked to Natasha.
You hesitated. “Am I allowed to.. Talk about it here?”
You knew there were rules and considering that you had definitely broken a few without telling Natasha, you didn’t want to fuck up this test in front of her.
She rolled her eyes, taking a seat in the chair to your side and throwing a look to the men at the end of the room. “Yes. Don’t worry about those three. What’s going on?”
If there was one thing that you really respected about Natasha Romanoff, it was that she took her job very seriously . Six months ago when this entire mess started, her no nonsense attitude had been very off putting. Given that your entire life was flipped upside down, for a long time, she was one of the only people you trusted. Which you appreciated. But Nat had a code and a job to do. She didn’t hold you when you cried in a panic nor did she hold your hand through all the safety protocols and rules.
She took her job seriously.
She took keeping you safe seriously. Your low profile existence was at her behest and your professional relationship revolved around communication and honesty and trust. So if she seemed to trust these three curious faced men, you did too.
“Everything has been fine. This weekend I didn’t stray from my plans, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. In fact, I was dreading our check in this week because God, you must think my life is so boring.” You were rambling, as per usual. Natasha’s stone face reminded you of that. You cleared your throat and continued. “But I had a bad feeling this morning. And when I got on the subway, the feeling grew worse and worse - then I saw this guy watching me across the train.”
Natasha sat back in the chair slightly, stiffening. “You’re sure he was watching you?”
“Yes. Well, not at first. But then I got off the train two stops early and he followed. When I weaved through the market on West 55th, he was two stalls behind me. When I rushed into the Starbucks on the corner, he was right behind me.” You took a deep breath and opened your eyes. When had you squeezed them shut? “So I ran. I can’t even tell you the last time I ran and.. Well, I bypassed my floor and just tried to find you.”
Natasha shook her head. “Why didn’t you call me? We have a procedure for this.”
“I turned off my phone in a panic. What if they’re tracking me?” Your voice cracked and you sucked in a breath. “What if they found me?”
“Don’t spiral, alright?” Natasha gave you a small, reassuring smile. She grabbed a water bottle from a neat row on the table, handing it to you. The command to drink and stay calm was unsaid.
You cracked open the bottle, sighing quietly as the cool water rushed down your throat.
Tony, who had been watching you closely, opened his eyes wide. He pointed at Natasha. “Wait - is this her?”
Natasha sighed. She reached into the pocket of her jeans and took out her phone, tapping a few messages before turning her attention back to Tony. “Yes.”
“You’re right. I never did figure it out. Needle in a haystack, I guess. She’s much less unassuming than I thought.”
“Who is she?” Steve jumped in, clearly desperate to connect the dots.
“Clint - can you go do a sweep of her desk? Just in case.” Natasha watched Clint confirm with a nod, quickly standing and heading to the door.
“Can someone explain what’s going on? Who is she?” Steve repeated himself, his eyes darting between Tony and Nat and you.
Now, you knew plenty about Captain America. From grade school text books to documentaries to onboarding videos at Stark Industries - his legacy was well known. You hadn’t worked with him directly but you had only heard good things about him. But his stare was strangely critical and you really didn’t like it. Not today, Mr. America.
“ She has a name.” You spit out, returning the bottle to the table.
“Hey, take it easy,” Natasha warned under her breath. Then, she introduced you to Tony and Steve directly. Your full, real name rolled off her tongue and it took you a second to remember who you really were. You had been going by a strange alias since this mess had started.
“She’s six months into her term under the Federal Witness Protection Program,” Natasha finished up, hoping that her vague explanation would be enough to quench the curiosity of Tony and Steve. “Things have been going perfectly normal so far but this strange man on the subway is a concern I need to investigate and send up the flagpole.”
“I don’t know what I expected,” Tony said slowly, tilting his head as he looked at you. “You don’t seem like the type who would be hunted down by HYDRA.”
You rolled your eyes. “Well, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, unfortunately.”
Steve shook his head. “You’re telling me we’ve had someone working in the building here for months that is currently on the run from one of our biggest threats?”
“Under my protection, Rogers.”
“Surely there are more remote areas than Manhattan -
“Statistically speaking, she’s probably more safe inside this tower than most places in the country,” Tony countered with a shrug. “Now, we could have had her stay in the tower for 24 hour surveillance though. We do have a suite of -
“No, part of the agreement was blending in,” Nat argued back. “And she still deserved a normal routine and life.”
Steve had been absorbing all the information presented to him and nodded when he looked at you again. “I suppose that makes sense. One generic looking female would be hard to trace in a city this large.”
“Did Captain America just call me generic looking? Ouch.” You muttered to yourself, slumping down in your chair. You were used to this part - where people just talked about you like you were some object in need of protection. It was easier to just let it play out and listen in.
You caught Nat smirking but her face quickly resumed the same stoic expression. “Not that any of that matters now. If someone has managed to track you down, we need to restart.”
You groaned. “Nat, please. I can’t do this again. I have a life here now and -
“We’re not arguing about this.” She sighed and shook her head. “Until we figure out where he is, you’re not safe.”
You scrunched up your face in frustration but you knew it wasn’t worth it. You’d get the same speech and guilt trip about safety; not only your own. The well being of your family was at stake, too. They were hidden away somewhere else. You had derailed everyone’s life by trying to be a Good Samaritan and where had it left you? Mostly alone in Brooklyn without any correspondence with your dad or brother. Your entire life had been left behind. And now what? Something had wiggled through the cracks and your life was at risk again.
You lost yourself in thought as the other three continued to talk strategy. It was Steve’s tone turning frustrated that pulled you back in.
“No, I don’t think that’s fair. He is obligated to take a break after back to back missions.”
“Steve,” Natasha tried to reason with him. “He’s our best resource when it comes to HYDRA. I could really use the help on this one. Plus, this safehouse is incredibly secluded. Minus the security watch, he can relax there.”
Tony swiped his hands in front of the view screen and pulled up some files. “Frankly, I’m still stuck on how you know about The Pines in the first place.”
You shook your head a few times, looking between all three of them once more. “Wait. Wait. What’s going on? Safehouse?”
Natasha frowned as she peered over her shoulder to address you. “This is the protocol.” You didn’t like the way she spoke your name - as if you were an idiot.
Suddenly, this was a lot. More than a lot. It was edging on Way Too Much and you had a lot of regrets about how this had all transpired. “Okay so what if one guy followed me on the subway today? Maybe he just wants to ask me out -
“Or take you out. With a sniper.” Natasha was not giving you any wiggle room here. You knew your arguing was useless. You were supposed to follow her rules. But the idea of a safehouse, wherever it might be, sounded daunting. It sounded extreme and, sure, safe. But it also sounded especially lonely.
You’d be even further removed from your life. Including your new life. Would you be able to say bye to Sean? God, would you get to bring Luigi? What about your job? You supposed that definitely didn’t matter now and -
Clint’s return to the board room, face flushed red with worry, caught everyone’s attention.
“There was an unmarked envelope on your desk,” he said to you, leaning onto the table at your side. “Has that happened before? Was this here when you left Friday?”
Your eyes followed his body to his hands, where a manilla folder was clenched in his fist. “I’ve never seen that before. We do a lot of inter-office mail though..”
“I don’t think this is inter-office mail,” Clint huffed, opening it up and dropping the contents onto the table. Nat rushed over and let out an audible sigh.
Photos. From a sniper’s POV. Of you and Natasha, sitting outside of a cafe in DUMBO. The first picture was from your last check in. Your mouth dropped open as she flipped through the rest of the stack.
“Shit.”
The pause was heavy even through the phone.
“Please Barnes. I really need you on this one. I’ll owe you big.”
“I just spent nearly an entire month doing recon and all I was looking forward to was peace and quiet. You didn’t even give me a day.”
Natasha sighed, stopping her feet from pacing any more as she stood outside the boardroom. Through the doors, she could hear Clint entertaining you with some distracting story and Steve peppering you with even more questions about the HYDRA thug who had been trailing you.
“I can’t believe I’m about to admit this but I’m really out of options. I need her hidden away before this escalates even more. When it comes to secrecy and safety, you’re the expert. Especially when it comes to hiding from HYDRA.” She swallowed hard. “Don’t make me beg.”
She heard Bucky sigh.
“Did I mention Tony offered The Pines? I always thought it was a myth but you’ll be absolutely secluded, at least. It’ll sort of be like that time off you dreamed of.”
“Fine. Sounds like it’ll be a palate cleanser after sharing a bunk with Sam for weeks.”