Chapter 23: New Arrangements
The Helicarrier was quiet now.
Fury's message had already gone out. Clint was handling the external communications. By tomorrow, on paper, Natasha Romanoff would simply cease to exist as a traceable agent.
Dead to HYDRA. Dead to the old S.H.I.E.L.D. records.
Alive here, in the shadows, with a fleet of Black Widows and a very confused Melina as acting director.
But that was tomorrow's problem.
Right now, Natasha had gathered everyone in the main hall.
---
The Black Widows stood in loose rows. Some still looked uncertain. Others had already settled into a kind of quiet readiness, like people who had been waiting a long time for someone to tell them what came next.
Natasha stood in front of them.
"From today, you are no longer Black Widows," she said. "You are members of S.A.B.E.R."
She let that sit for a moment.
"S.A.B.E.R.'s mission is to protect the planet. We do not assassinate. We do not destroy. We gather intelligence, and we confront threats that disrupt peace and stability."
"S.A.B.E.R. does not belong to any government. It does not belong to S.H.I.E.L.D. either."
A few people shifted. That part mattered to them. They had been owned by an organization their entire lives.
"For now, Melina will serve as Acting Director. Nick Fury will eventually take the Director role. I trust him, and I will work under him. I promise you, he will not throw your lives away for nothing."
Melina glanced over. "And you?"
"I'm not management," Natasha said simply. "I'm an agent. I'll form a small squad and take missions directly."
Yelena's hand went up before Natasha even finished the sentence. "I'm in."
Several others moved forward as well.
Natasha looked at them. "Not yet. I'll choose carefully. The enemies we'll face next are not ordinary."
"I'm not afraid," Yelena said.
"I know you're not. That's not the point."
---
Then came the harder question.
Melina looked at Natasha carefully. "What about Anna and the others who want to leave?"
Anna had already made her decision. She stood slightly apart from the group, not defensive, just separate.
"Can we really go?" someone else asked. "Just like that?"
"Yes," Natasha said. "We'll arrange new identities. New papers. A clean start." She paused. "The only thing we ask is that you don't disclose anything about this place or these people. That's not negotiable."
Anna nodded. "Agreed."
"Anna, you're free," Natasha said. "I hope you have a good life."
"Thank you, Natasha."
When the final count came in, only five chose to leave with Anna. The rest stayed.
Natasha wasn't surprised. For most of them, this Helicarrier was the closest thing they had ever had to a home. The people here were the only ones they knew.
Leaving everything at once was harder than it sounded.
---
When the group dispersed, Natasha turned to Yelena.
The two of them stood alone.
"You've grown up," Natasha said.
Yelena looked away, pretending to be unbothered. "Obviously. I'm not that little girl anymore."
"What will you do? Stay or go?"
Yelena was quiet for a moment. "Where would I even go? Our family was fake. Mom, Dad, you. All of it was an assignment."
Her smile was thin and a little painful.
"I know," Natasha said. "I'm sorry. I thought I had fixed it. I thought you were free. When you didn't come looking for me, I assumed you had moved on."
"I couldn't look for you," Yelena said quietly.
Natasha didn't say anything to that.
"We're not real sisters," Natasha said. "But I miss what we had."
"I know we're not real." Yelena straightened up. "I'm staying."
Natasha hugged her.
Yelena didn't resist. After a moment, she hugged back.
---
Antonia was the last unresolved piece.
She had recovered physically. The burns were gone. The chip behind her neck, removed. Her face was her own again, smooth and unmarked.
She looked different than she had in years.
Melina watched her carefully. "What about her?"
Natasha walked over to Antonia.
"She was innocent," Natasha said. "A child who got caught in something she had nothing to do with. I owe her more than I can repay."
Yelena frowned. "She might come after you."
"I know. I was in the wrong first."
Natasha crouched slightly to be at Antonia's level. "You don't have to thank me. You don't have to forgive me. If you want to stay here, you can stay. If you want to leave, we'll help you leave. That's your choice."
Antonia looked at her.
"I won't thank you," she said.
"I'm not asking you to."
Melina guided Antonia away to rest. That was enough for now. The anger was still there, but anger didn't have to mean danger. Not immediately.
Leo had watched the whole thing from the side and said nothing.
---
Tony had been leaning against a wall for the past twenty minutes.
"Can we go now?"
Peter echoed immediately. "I haven't done anything this entire trip."
"You were here for backup," Leo said. "Good backup stays quiet."
"I was incredibly quiet."
"And now the mission is complete. So yes, we can go."
Tony straightened up. "Finally. I'll get my plane."
"Tony."
"What?"
"You're not flying back."
Tony paused. "I'm not?"
"Portal."
Tony considered this. A multi-hour flight versus stepping through a door and being home.
"Fine," he said, with zero resistance.
Leo looked over at Natasha. "We're heading out."
Natasha turned from Yelena. "Wait. One moment."
She looked at Gwen.
"Can I borrow you for a minute?"
Gwen blinked. "Me?"
"Just a short talk. Come on."
---
Leo watched them walk off together.
Tony appeared beside him. "Should you be worried about that?"
"Probably."
"Are you?"
Leo thought about it. "A little."
Tony nodded slowly. "Smart woman, that one."
Peter was watching too. "What do you think they're talking about?"
"Something that will work out in Natasha's favor," Tony said.
He was not wrong.
---
It didn't take long.
While they were waiting, Tony turned to Leo with something that had apparently been bothering him.
"Hey. The first time you saved me in Afghanistan. You told me you couldn't teleport two people."
Leo smiled slightly. "That was true at the time."
"And now you can do... what, exactly?"
"Right now, a small group is easy. In six months, maybe a building."
Tony stared at him. "A building."
"Give or take."
Peter's mouth opened. Then closed.
Tony crossed his arms. "And eventually?"
"Eventually, I might be able to move something the size of a city block. Maybe more. It depends on how much my range expands."
Tony and Peter stood in silence for a moment.
Tony looked at Peter. Peter looked at Tony.
"He doesn't seem human," Peter said quietly.
"He's really not," Tony agreed.
Leo shrugged. "I'm working on it."
---
Gwen and Natasha returned.
Whatever had been said between them, Gwen looked significantly more settled than before. The tension that had been sitting around her eyes since the kiss on the Helicarrier was gone.
Leo looked at Natasha.
Natasha looked back with an expression of complete innocence.
He would never know what she said. He had heard every word, of course, but knowing the words and understanding how Natasha had used them were two different things entirely.
"Capable woman," he thought.
Natasha announced to Yelena and Melina that she would be gone until tomorrow. Yelena hugged her. Melina gave a short nod that meant she understood and would manage.
Leo opened the portal.
Tony walked through without hesitation.
Peter followed.
Gwen went next.
Natasha stepped through last, pausing just at the edge to look back at the Helicarrier one more time.
Then she was through, and the portal closed behind her.
---
They came out in Tony's villa.
Tony immediately grabbed a drink from the bar. "That was surprisingly undramatic."
"You're welcome," Leo said.
"I didn't do anything."
"Exactly."
Tony pointed at him. "One day I want an actual fight."
"I'll arrange something."
Tony didn't look like he believed that. He raised his glass anyway. "Good work, team."
Leo opened a second portal home and stepped through with Gwen and Natasha.
---
The villa was quiet and warm.
Afternoon light came through the windows. Leo dropped onto the sofa and felt the tension of the day leave his shoulders all at once.
Gwen sat beside him. Natasha went directly to the refrigerator, pulled out an iced Coke, and settled herself on the armchair across from them with her legs propped on the coffee table.
She looked completely at home.
"You're very comfortable here," Gwen observed.
"Good spaces invite that," Natasha said, taking a long drink.
Gwen looked around the villa as if seeing it with new eyes. Then she turned back and decided she was comfortable here too.
She leaned into Leo.
"I told Mom I'd have dinner here before coming home," she said.
"Then I'll cook," Leo said.
"Not yet."
Leo looked at her. He recognized that expression.
"Gwen, Natasha is literally right there."
Gwen glanced at Natasha.
Natasha raised her Coke in a small salute and said nothing.
Gwen turned back. "And?"
Leo didn't have a response to that.
"The bedroom," Gwen said, getting up. "You mentioned a gift."
Leo blinked. "I did."
"You said you'd prepared something."
"I did."
"So?"
Leo stood up. He opened the wardrobe and produced two sets of neatly folded black pajamas. Not uniforms. Just elegant, well-made sleepwear, the kind sold by boutique online shops, which he had ordered weeks ago on a mild impulse.
He handed one to Gwen and turned to Natasha.
"You get one too."
Natasha looked at the folded fabric. "Why do I get one?"
"Because I have good taste and it would be a waste not to."
Natasha unfolded hers and looked it over. "It's not bad."
"It's very good."
She held it up against herself. "I think you're right."
"I know I'm right."
Gwen had already moved toward the bathroom. Natasha followed without being asked, which was very Natasha.
Leo waited.
When they came back out, he stood very still for a moment and determined that his taste was indeed excellent.
"Just good?" Natasha asked, reading his face.
He didn't answer. His expression was answer enough.
---
Dinner came afterward.
Leo made something proper, several dishes, well-seasoned. The kitchen smelled warm and good.
Natasha sat at the counter watching him cook. Gwen set the table.
It was oddly normal.
When the food was ready, the three of them sat down together, and for a while, no one needed to say anything particularly important.
Natasha ate two servings and remarked that the food was second best to something she had eaten earlier today, with an expression that suggested the comparison was deliberate.
Leo chose not to pursue that.
After dinner, Leo sent Gwen home.
He didn't want to test Captain Stacy's patience. The man trusted Leo's hero persona, but there were limits.
Gwen said goodbye at her door.
"Graduation soon," she said.
"Very soon."
"Then Manhattan."
"Then everything gets easier."
She smiled. "Goodnight, Leo."
"Goodnight."
He watched her door close, then turned and walked back to the car.
---
When he returned to the villa, Natasha was in his bedroom.
She had found the book on his nightstand and was reading it like she had lived there for years.
Leo stood in the doorway.
"You should report to Fury," he said.
"I messaged him. Someone will meet me tomorrow." She turned a page without looking up. "I need to stay somewhere tonight. Going back to S.H.I.E.L.D. directly would create a record."
"And you chose here."
"You have a comfortable villa." She finally looked up. "And I made a promise earlier."
Leo had nothing more to argue with.
---
Morning.
Sunlight came through the curtains at an angle that made the room look warmer than it was.
Leo woke up first.
He lay still for a moment, looking at the ceiling.
Life was, objectively, very good.
He turned his head. Natasha was asleep beside him, which was unusual because Natasha never looked this relaxed when conscious.
This morning, he kissed Natasha on the forehead and went to make breakfast.
She appeared in the kitchen twenty minutes later, hair slightly loose, wearing a borrowed shirt.
"You let me sleep," she said.
"You needed it."
She sat at the counter and accepted the coffee he slid toward her without being asked.
"The mission report," she said.
"Fury will handle it."
"I need to debrief properly. There's a lot to document."
"You can do all of that today."
"After breakfast."
"After breakfast," Leo agreed.
She looked around the kitchen. Sun on the counter. Two mugs of coffee. The smell of something cooking.
"You know," Natasha said, "I've lived in safehouses, barracks, hotel rooms, and classified facilities."
"And?"
She picked up her mug. "This is better."
Leo turned back to the stove.
"Good," he said.
---