A/N: I really suck at updating this, don't I? I'm The Worst. I'm so sorry...so here's a longer oneshot. Oh, and fair warning, this one contains primarily ANGST. For those who watched season one of Agent Carter, you'll know why Natasha would be a bit sensitive around Disney movies. Especially Snow White. (Yeah, I went there.) If you haven't seen Agent Carter and don't know why Natasha reacts the way she does, it's alright, as there will be a follow-up to this chapter in which Steve learns what's going on.

Prompt 12: Vault

Steve scratched the back of his head as he read through his 21st century "to do" list, studying his hastily scribbled cultural tasks that he had yet to complete. After spending more time with the Avengers after the Battle of New York, things for him to eat and watch and play and experience were thrown at him countlessly each day and quickly became hard to keep track of. Natasha then suggested he start keeping a list of these things, around the same time Fury assigned them to be mission partners; though Steve was as uncertain about the decision as Natasha seemed, with her side-eyed glances and teasing frowns, she started helping him with the list.

Today presented itself as an opportune time for Steve to knock some things out; he actually had the day off, his first free time in a while. Coincidentally, Natasha had just returned to Avengers Tower from a mission and said she would hang out with him. Steve had to resist a smile when she said that (because not many people could say the infamous Black Widow was willing to just hang out with them).

About a month prior, Tony had offhandedly mentioned something called the "Disney Vault" to Steve, which, after a quick internet search, he found to be a so-called "storage" in which Disney movies were held for years before being released to the public again. It sounded a bit...capitalistic in nature to Steve, but Tony just shrugged and reassured him that JARVIS had access to any and every movie Steve wanted; he just had to ask for it.

That sounded like a fairly peaceful and enjoyable activity to Steve, so he decided that would be a fun way to pass the time with Natasha.

"Even though all of the movies are in some sort of vault, Tony said we can watch any of the ones we want," he explained to Natasha after they sat down on the couch together. Once he'd spoken the word "movie" to her, she'd raced off to the kitchen to make popcorn; the fruits of her labor currently sat in a white bowl between them. "There are tons of movies here, though...I'm not sure which one to watch first."

Natasha eyed him over her handful of popcorn, slowly approaching her mouth. "What kinds of movies are these again?"

"Oh, Disney movies. So they're all animated," Steve explained, looking back to the TV of endless titles and options. He sighed. "The only ones I've seen are Snow White and Fantasia, though."

When he turned back to Natasha, he noticed her sudden change in demeanor. The direct passage of popcorn to her mouth had stopped, her full hand sitting idly just below her chin. She stared at him with wide eyes.

"Nat? Something wrong?"

His concern seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she'd entered as she blinked quickly and shook her head. "Nothing's wrong," she swiftly assured him while placing more popcorn in her mouth. "I just zoned out for a bit, sorry."

He wondered briefly why she would do that, but then recalled their conversations about her true age, which rivaled his in terms of years. "Did you see any of these movies while growing up?" He did the mental math. "You were probably an adult by then."

"I don't remember," Natasha dismissed him, her eyes darkening. Steve detected something fishy about her answer; she'd responded too quickly. She looked toward the TV. "Anyway, since this is your list, you can choose."

Deciding to let her avoidance pass, he nodded, also looking at the list on the TV. "Well...It's been over seventy years since I've seen Snow White, and I'd really like to see it again, so let's start there."

He didn't look to Natasha for her response. JARVIS seemed to have automatically accepted his response, and the movie began. Steve leaned back against the couch with a smile, reaching his hand into the popcorn bowl. He recalled the first time he'd seen Snow White; he'd been amazed, as he'd never seen anything like it. Though animation nowadays had developed levels beyond the quality of Snow White, he still held it up in his mind as one of the greatest movies to date.

After a few minutes, he noticed Natasha had stopped eating the popcorn. Figuring she was either being polite (looking back on it, such a thought was laughable, as Steve and the others had quickly found that the closer one gets to Natasha, the less manners she'd offer them) or had already eaten earlier and wasn't that hungry. Steve didn't think anything of it, simply focusing on the movie.

The music was still as catchy as he remembered it, Snow White's voice just as angelic as he had believed it to be the first time he'd seen it. If this was the quality Disney had started with, their newer movies must be fantastic, Steve thought.

Fifteen minutes passed, and Steve's hand collided with the bottom of the popcorn bowl, his fingers brushing against the unpopped kernels. He turned away from the screen for the first time since the movie had started, looking down into the empty bowl.

"Guess I was hungrier than I thought," he said lightly, looking to Natasha.

But Natasha...Natasha didn't look so good. Her eyes were as wide as when Steve had first mentioned the fact that they were Disney movies; she almost looked like Snow White herself, her skin bearing a lighter, paler shade than before. Steve opened his mouth to ask her if she was okay, but Natasha beat him to it.

She grabbed the popcorn bowl quickly, her fingers trembling. "I-I can refill the popcorn."

"Nat, are you-"

"It's okay, I can do it," she continued, pulling the porcelain bowl into her lap with a nervous shudder. Her fingers tightened around the edges of the bowl. Her entire face shook then, her lips quivering and eyes averting. Steve inhaled sharply as he recognized her expression; she was on the verge of tears!

"Are you...crying?" he asked bluntly and dumbly, too surprised by her sudden display of emotion (considering she usually wore a stoic expression or one of joy or mischief or anger when with the Avengers) to think clearly.

Natasha shook her head more quickly than she had before, the speed startling Steve. She hastily let go of the bowl with her right hand, wiping at her eyes with her forearm. She offered him an uneasy smile. "I just-I got something-fuck-there's a thing in my eye."

Her words were as choppy as her movements, her arm lowering from her face at a disjointed rate as she squeezed the edge of the popcorn bowl between her fingers and her palm. She bit her lip, but her mouth continued to shake as the water continued gathering in her eyes.

Steve watched her fearfully, reaching a hand out toward her. "What's wrong?"

But she turned away from the hand, akin to a flinch, squeezing her eyes shut. The bowl finally slipped from her grasp, falling to the ground beside the couch with a clink, accompanied by the sounds of the kernels spilling out. "Nothing is wrong, I just-I have to…"

Her voice died out, the sentence fading into an oblivion of the same uncertainty that Steve felt from witnessing this...this breakdown, for lack of a better word. "JARVIS, stop the movie," he said. "Natasha, it's okay-"

She cut him off with a sob, heavy tears rolling down her cheeks as she ducked her head toward her lap and dug into her hair with her fingers. Everything about her behavior screamed panic and out of control. Her cries grew louder as her shoulders rose and fell to the rhythm.

Steve gaped at her for a few moments before stretching his hand out once more, this time successfully reaching her shoulder. He gently curled his fingers around her shoulder blade. "Are you okay? Natasha? Natasha. Speak to me, please. How can I help you? Natasha."

It was no use; her crying seemed to be as uncontrollable as the violent way her entire body shook and contorted in itself. She didn't respond to him. Steve started panicking. "Natasha."

"Cap!"

Steve turned at Tony's call, catching sight of the latter hurrying toward the couch. For a moment, Steve wondered how Tony knew what was going on, but quickly remembered JARVIS looked out for everyone's health as long as they were in the tower. And Tony was a bit of a control freak, so he usually kept tabs on whatever JARVIS was keeping tabs on.

That didn't matter to Steve right now, though; Tony looked concerned as he skidded to a stop beside the couch, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open, but he didn't look nearly as surprised as Steve felt. Did Tony know what was going on with Natasha?

"Tony, what-"

"Help me carry her," Tony cut him off, walking around the couch and grabbing Natasha's arm. "Tasha, hey, it's me, Tony, I'm just gonna help you out here a bit, okay? Don't use your scary glare on me." Gently, he pried her fingers from her hair, and lowered himself so Natasha could drape her arm over his shoulders. Steve quickly mirrored what he did, carefully untangling Natasha's fingers and pulling her arm to him. Tony motioned for Steve to place Natasha's arm on his shoulders, as Tony had done, so they could help Natasha stand. "We need to get her back to her room, in bed."

Steve didn't ask any questions this time, simply nodding and raising Natasha with Tony. She continued to look down, her tears falling straight from her eyes down toward the floor. The vocal aspect of her crying quieted a bit as they'd lifted her, and her feet cooperated with Tony and Steve as they walked her from the couch and through the rest of the penthouse toward the hallway of bedrooms.

Though Natasha's condition made the trip take longer than it should have, the time passed in a blur for Steve; he couldn't stop seeing her conflicted expression as she tried to hold back the tears, nor could he stop hearing her pained cries. A part of him yearned for answers and explanations as to what was this and why this was happening. He'd never even seen Natasha remotely sad before, so this was an extreme degree he felt propelled to.

Finally, they reached Natasha's room, Tony carelessly throwing the door open with his hand not supporting Natasha. Steve hadn't spent much time in Natasha's room before, only in passing conversations or to borrow something, but it still appeared as (deceptively, he would later learn) clean as ever. Tony's face was one of complete concentration as they waddled to the bed with Natasha. Upon reaching the side of the bed, Tony lifted the red covers and light blue layers of blankets to clear the path for Natasha. Steve simply held onto Natasha as he worked, patiently waiting for Tony's next instructions.

"Nat, hey, we're gonna lay you down here, okay? This is your bed," Tony spoke softly to Natasha, lowering her arm from his shoulders; Steve followed his actions.

Though Natasha didn't respond to Tony, she managed to regain enough control of herself to place her hands down on the bed and force her body to move with her. She clambered into the bed, lacking the normal grace Steve usually witnessed her display, swiftly pulling the blankets over most of her body and burying her head in her pillow. Even through the layers, Steve could make out the still shaking shape of her body; he could still hear her cries through her pillow.

Before he could do or say anything, however, Tony placed a hand on his arm, gesturing with his head for them to walk back out into the hall. Steve followed numbly, casting a worried glance back at Natasha on the way before stopping outside with Tony.

Tony closed the door behind them and led him a little farther down the hall. Steve figured he didn't want to disturb Natasha.

"Okay," Tony said, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "You have questions. I can sense it."

"What the hell was that?" Steve demanded, trying to keep his voice down so Natasha wouldn't overhear. He didn't mean to be harsh with Tony; he was just so worried about Natasha, and so confused about what made her react in such a way.

"It's...something," Tony answered. Steve glared. "Look, I don't know much about it myself, alright? I've only ever seen this happen one other time; it's pretty rare."

"Was it...some kind of panic attack?"

"Yes and no." Steve was starting to despise the vagueness with which Tony answered his questions. Tony sighed. "Though she has some of the same symptoms, the main thing is the uncontrollable crying. Clint said it has to do with the Red Room, or something."

"Where Natasha was raised," Steve commented with a nod. "I've never seen Natasha...react like that. To anything."

"A few months ago, when Natasha was staying here, she had an episode when me and Pepper were with her," Tony said. "We were just talking, and she suddenly started acting up like that. Fortunately, Clint was also around, so he overheard what was happening and took charge of the situation immediately. He put Natasha to bed like we just did and tried to explain it to us."

Steve tilted his head.

"These incidents used to happen a lot more around the time Natasha first joined S.H.I.E.L.D.," Tony said, echoing Clint's words. "They only ever happened when it was just the two of them, Clint and Nat, alone. Apparently, Natasha had grown up thinking it was some sort of long lasting punishment from the Red Room, since it only ever happened when she really trusted or befriended someone.

"Long story short, Clint helped her overcome most of it. They still happen every once in awhile, though, and I think today's reason was the classic Snow White."

Deep down, Steve had worried it was fault. He averted his eyes, turning away from Tony. "Damn it. She looked apprehensive when I mentioned Disney, I should have known-"

But Tony shook his head. "You had no way of knowing. Like you said, Natasha never reacts like this to anything," he said. "She hardly emotes, for that matter. Except when she's laughing at one of us or we piss her off. Clint says this has something to do with her childhood not really being much of a childhood, kind of like she never really grew up, in a way."

Steve didn't know much about Natasha's past, outside of the fact that she'd been raised as a weapon of mass destruction in the form of a young spy, and that she was nearly as old of him. Emotions seemed to be nonexistent to her, judging by her cold delivery of the words, "love is for children" to Loki before the Battle of New York. But she'd never had a chance to truly be a child, so how could she know that was the only time of her life for love?

"Is she going to be okay?" Steve asked.

"In a while, yeah. She just needs some space and time to finish crying it out, then she'll be back to her stoic self," Tony reassured him, a small grin appearing on his face. "It's almost good that this happened, in a way; now you know what to do if this ever happens again when you're with Natasha."

Tony had a point, but Steve couldn't help the knot of guilt in his stomach. Natasha had been particularly intriguing to him lately, her quick wit and dry humor capturing his attention in the time since they'd become partners. Steve wished he knew more about Natasha so he could properly help her.

"Thank you, Tony."

"No problem, Cap."

Steve vowed to himself he'd properly protect Natasha next time, acting as the partner she truly deserved and needed.