11 April 2019

Hi Tom,

We got our finalised schedule for the anniversary today.

You've probably guessed by now when something is bothering me I go to the gym and take my frustrations out on whatever unlucky equipment has come to reside with the Avengers. That's Plan A.

Plan B is going for a run around the perimeter three or four times. Using my feet to pound the ground rather than my fists pounding the punch bag. It's that or going out looking for a fight. But I'm committed to keeping my promise about pushing paper instead of my luck.

And, I'm sure you remember, Plan C is digging out my ballet shoes and working my way through whatever routines come to mind. And, for whatever reason, it always seems to be cut short by Steve bringing guests into the gym to watch me reliving a part of my past I'd rather they didn't.

I might have to add a do not disturb alert to Friday whenever I dance.

That way I can avoid the embarrassment of Steve walking in with the Starks in tow. Pepper I didn't mind so much. It was her husband I took issue with.

They wanted to get out of the house, Pepper explained. It didn't take much for Tony to go a bit stir crazy and she thought it would be good for Morgan to see more of her auntie Nat and uncle Steve, and Steve just happened to be the first person they came across.

"Dunno, in his work uniform I think he's more like Uncle Sam," I said and took a childish pleasure when he blushed, the meaner part of me glad to share the burden of embarrassment. Not the nicest thing, I know. But I've done a lot worse. To his credit he pointed to me as the posters had once pointed at potential recruits and embraced the moment. Pepper and I laughed.

Tony, however, missed out on all of this because he was rooted to the spot, mouth agape before he started to splutter. "Did anyone else see that? It wasn't just me right?"

I sighed, rubbed at my eyes and stretched my back out as I walked over to them. "You're in so much trouble," I said to Steve so Tony couldn't hear.

"Sorry, I thought you were training as normal. I should have checked with Friday."

"You mean she's done this before? Doesn't ballet make you a bit soft?" Tony said and though many a person would have taken offence at the words I knew he was just trying to figure out a mystery. It's not like my work screamed ballet dancer. And yet, I was still treading on the coattails of embarrassment and couldn't help but snap a little.

"Can test that if you want?"

"How many is that now?" He sidestepped my question like a crab on a morning stroll as he spoke mostly to himself, ticking a list off on his fingers as he went. "Ballerina Nat, Babysitter Nat, Black Widow Nat, Director Nat, Hacker Nat, Diplomat Nat - I like that one, it rhymes - Spy Nat, Avenger Nat, Fugitive Nat, Blonde Nat, Notary Nat - you're giving Barbie a run for her money. Oooh, new nickname for you."

"I swear to god, if you start calling me Barbie I'm going to-"

"What, plié me to death?"

"Tony Stark, everyone, carrying on his four year streak of not saying anything useful," I said and he held a hand to his heart in mock hurt.

"Ouch. Villanelle. Why must you cut so deep?"

"Who?"

"Don't tell me you haven't seen Killing Eve."

He decided to extol the virtues of the show as we left the gym and headed to the kitchen. Steve tried to slip away but I kept a tight hold on his arm. He was sitting through this lunch as well. He felt guilty enough that he didn't argue and it was almost worth Tony uncovering the ballet facet of my life to have the two of them in the same room for an extended period of time.

The words shared over frittata and apple juice were civil. I didn't manage much of my meal before I gave up on it. I passed the rest to Steve who piled it onto his plate without question.

"Did you guys get the schedule?" Pepper asked when all small talk had dwindled and it was the only thing left to broach. I didn't have to look at him to know Steve had the same anguish in his eyes that I felt in my bones.

"Yeah," I said. And in that single word I heard all the pain and strain that pummelled me from within. The hot, twisting need and desperation to find a way to right things. It was mixed with the standard sorrow and guilt that I'd carried for most of my life, the same sorrow and guilt that had grown more intense over the past almost year. Together they formed that swirling pit of darkness that Thor struggled against.

I heard all of that, in a single word.

I just hoped no one else did.

They didn't say anything. Finished lunch, spoke about other things, laughed at jokes. Bruce arrived back from his future dwelling and distracted Tony with science talk before retreating with him to the lab.

In the billionaire's absence, Steve finally allowed himself to be convinced to hold Morgan; she laughed at the awkward man looking down at her.

In that unguarded moment, as Pepper watched the former Captain America holding her daughter, I saw her own sorrow flicker through her eyes.

Maybe that email had us all standing at the edge of the pit as we mourned what should never have been.

23 April 2019

Hi Tom,

Beauty is an overused term.

Kind of a side effect of unrealistic ideals forced onto society, but I digress.

When people say something is beautiful or the most beautiful thing they've ever seen, I take their words with a pinch of salt. Sure, it's in the eye of the beholder but, as with everything in life, beauty evolves over time.

And nowhere has it evolved better than in Wakanda.

When I first saw the country, and the citadel at its centre, it took my breath away. Only two other things have earned that reaction. The most recent was the view from Sokovia as it flew higher and higher into the sky. Standing at the edge of that chunk of land and seeing the Earth shrinking beneath us was astounding. Though it's possible the altitude played a part in that bout of breathlessness.

And the other one, well that's when I saw the sea for the first time. Endless blue. Nothing but water and sky. If I got lost out there, on it or under it, the Red Room would never find me.

Wakanda was different though. Hidden behind shielding technology, open to the world but still protecting itself, sneaking up on you when you fly through the right spot. One second there are trees and the next there are fields below and an intelligent city reaching up to the sky right in front of you. It's natural beauty is matched only by the craftsmanship of each of its buildings.

Even the memories of last year cannot take that away. Even when we made our way through the force field again and witnessed the evening sun bathe everything in gold, the plains still scarred by the battle. Even when we flew over the trenches and the patches of grass that stood out; where alien machines had carved their mark or exploded, where little fires had burned across the land. Collateral damage as we fought for our right to live, as collateral as the corpses and carcasses the flames had consumed.

When Steve, Bruce and I landed Okoye was there to greet us, as she had been a year ago. except this time she took centre stage where T'challa once had. She gave each of us a warm smile and a firm handshake and I knew that, with the exception of the other Avengers, we were the only ones those two actions were sincere for.

"Where is my bow, Doctor Banner?" She said and took pity when the man grew too flustered to answer, "relax, I'm joking. We still don't do that here."

As we walked she gave us a quick rundown of who was arriving when and anything we might find pertinent in the run up to the event. She took us to the guest residence attached to the palace and pointed out each of our rooms.

"I've made sure you're not in the same ones as before. I imagine it is already difficult enough to be here without us adding a sense of déjà vu."

She was called away, other duties more important than settling acquaintances into their temporary accommodation. The three of us stood in the corridor for a few seconds and looked at each other, left with nothing but our company, our luggage and our dread.

We sighed and went to lay claim to what was going to be ours for the next few days.

24 April 2019

Hi Tom,

Beauty. Again.

There are many pockets of it here. But the one that fascinates me the most is the beauty weaved into the fighting style of the Dora Milaje. I saw them at work last year but as much as I would have liked to stop and admire their skill, there were other more pressing things going on around us.

There's nothing stopping me now, though.

They are regimented and disciplined as any world class fighting force is, but they are given room for creativity in their fighting. Resourcefulness is encouraged because it doesn't matter how much you prepare, things always have the potential to go wrong. They must go through their motions and routines, but they must also think on their feet. If anyone is unable to, then I guess they aren't recruited.

They are lethal, trained to incapacitate first and kill last. Depending on the threat level.

When I watch them I think of what the Red Room could have been like, in another world. The Dora Milaje have camaraderie, we had isolation. The Wakandan warriors chose their way of life. We didn't. We were just girls who slipped through the cracks and landed in a hellhole. Forced to march to the beat of an infernal drum, pursuing standards so high they were almost impossible to reach. If we failed we fell to our deaths.

Like the Dora, we started as girls who trained together. Unlike them we also lost our hope together. Our individuality together. Our souls together. Unlike them, we were never a team. How could we be when we were always in competition with each other?

We bettered each other only because we had to be better than someone else. We watched each other only so the same mistakes didn't destroy us, too.

And we killed each other. Because better them than me, right?

If we were raised as a team we could have been unstoppable. But that was never the Red Room's way.

But it was the Wakandan way.

I have seen many a person fight, many a technique employed, and many a weapon used. And the Dora Milaje? Well, they're the best out there. Their spears an extension of their arms, their fighting style the perfect blend of elegance and death. To challenge them is asking to die.

Not even the girls of the Red Room could match their skill because it stemmed from a trust of the women they worked with. They placed their life in the hands of their fellow soldiers and trusted them to look after it. They were motivated by the humble honour of serving their royal leaders, the kinship of belonging to such an exclusive group, and the love of the country around them. They fought to protect. The Black Widows were motivated by fear and beatings. Lies and threats. Lofty ambitions of being the best there is; using the blood of our victims to paint our name into the history books. We fought because it was all we knew.

But, fear only gets you so far. Love and honour take you so much further.

And it's that which threads the Dora Milaje together. It's that which turns them into a team.

Did the Avengers ever have that? Maybe. I guess there were bits of it there. We had a respect for each other. Trust was much harder to come by, though. We were like a puzzle put together wrong. If we had more time then maybe those flashes of promise could have evolved into something more.

Fighting alongside Okoye and her army against Thanos was eye-opening. To love a country as fiercely as they loved theirs?

A foreign concept to me.

I had pledged my allegiance to two countries in my life and both turned their backs on me. Russia took me and turned me into something unthinkable. America allowed me to reclaim pieces of myself but it never forgot what I once was or where I came from. The first chance it had and my name was back at the top of its most wanted list.

So, when it happened that my habit of observing the Dora's training sessions hadn't gone unnoticed and Okoye personally delivered an invitation to join them, I couldn't turn it down.

I was there before the sun had risen, before the stars had even tucked themselves in for the day. I wore the uniform provided and wielded one of their weapons. I stepped on the deserted training field with anticipation filling my lungs as I breathed in the cool air of pre-dawn. The new general was next to appear and she could only nod in greeting before the rest arrived.

I dove into their drills, kept up with their sprints and tests of fitness, and studied the way they moved. I let myself believe I was one of them, that I was Wakandan and held a love for my country I'd never felt before. And it wasn't long before 'Wakandan' became 'Avenger and 'country' switched to 'friends' in my head.

When that happened I trained like I'd never trained before.

I matched every single one of the Dora Milaje in skill, stamina, grace and, for the first time, conviction. Even when I sparred with each of them, one-on-one, I didn't fade. More than pride, more than honour, on the line.

When the day came to an end there was nothing but respect for all there. These women could teach so much about the art of fighting, of being part of a cohesive whole. I wished I had their wisdom years ago, and I was honoured to have their respect.

It wasn't until I'd showered and changed that I realised Okoye had come down to watch us. She knocked on my door and strode in alone once I opened it, guards nowhere in sight.

"Thank you for joining them today," she said, standing ramrod straight, eyes never once straying to the comfortable chairs. Not even when I offered her a seat and she declined.

"Thank you for the invitation," I said, "I haven't trained that hard for a long time."

"I assure you, it benefits them more than it benefits you." She caught the question in my gaze and smiled. "I wanted to give them a real test."

"And here I was thinking you were testing me."

"Of course. I need to make sure the person I'm reporting to is worth reporting to. It's not just my reputation on the line after all."

"And what conclusion did you come to?

"That we have missed out on a fine warrior but we are lucky to have you leading the Avengers through these difficult times."

A fine warrior. There were worse things to be.

I'd already been some of them.

25 April 2019

Hey Tom,

Carol arrived earlier. She decided to lose herself in the city, said she really wanted to know it and if she learned anything on her travels, you can't truly know a place until you get lost in it.

Then Tony and Pepper turned up, sans Rhodey.

Naturally that set off my internal alarm system.

I watched from afar as they stepped off a jet and greeted Okoye, who waited for them. I kept an eye on the vehicle, waiting for him to step out but Tony and Pepper didn't hang around before they headed into the palace, I rushed to greet them, hearing Tony's enthusiasm as he spoke about their shielding technology.

"Nat," Pepper's voice clattered against the walls of the hall when she saw me. She enveloped me in a hug and I felt tension course its way through her.

"You alright?" I asked as I stepped back, keeping my hands on her shoulder, worried something had happened.

"I'm fine, just the first time I've left Morgan. It's take all my willpower not to call Happy every twelve seconds."

I felt myself relax. Though I sympathised with her it was a relief to know Rhodey wasn't in any immediate danger.

"I wouldn't worry," I said, sneaking a peek at Tony as he shuffled his way over, sunglasses still on as he checked his phone, "I think Tony has it covered."

Pepper turned to look at him and caught the Friday notification, updating him on what was happening back home.

"Tony."

"In my defence, I didn't think I'd get caught," he held up his hands and peered around Pepper to shoot me an evil look, "thanks for ratting me out, Blondie. I thought you were meant to be good at keeping things to yourself."

"You've just spent the entire journey telling me not to worry and that we'll be back in no time."

"Yeah, because I knew everything was okay. I just wanted you to be able to relax about heading out when you need to."

"Hypocrite," she slapped his shoulder before kissing his cheek.

"You know, I think you make a valid point."

I stayed with them as they were given the rest of the welcome speech and a quick tour of the public areas. Once that was done Okoye entrusted me with showing them to their room, which left us free to speak without anyone listening in.

"Where's Rhodey?"

"Detained," Tony said, "didn't you get the alert? There was another killing. He'll hoof it over in his suit as soon as he can."

"How bad is it?"

"Not sure."

They disappeared into their room and I went to mine, trying to ignore the sinking of my stomach.

26 April 2019

Hi Tom,

Today brought out many feelings. But none of them new. So what can I say about today? Exactly one year since we fucked everything up.

I can say that I don't remember much of it, just snippets of this and that:

Moonlight shifting across my bedroom ceiling until it became day.

Condensation on my bathroom mirror when I stepped out of the shower, a hollowness ringing through me as I wiped it away to uncover my reflection.

Gaunt face, haunted eyes.

Stubborn blonde hair.

Except for the roots.

Like a trail of blood.

Echoing corridors and slamming doors.

Hurried guards and harried servants.

Plants coming to life under the warm caress of the Wakandan sun, letting their sweet, sometimes bitter, aroma off into the air.

I can say all of that, if you want Tom, but it seems kind of inadequate. They're snippets of nothing. I have more, but I'm sure you could care less about those sort of details.

I can tell you the day defied time. It moved then it didn't. Seconds took minutes and hours took seconds.

Or maybe you want to know about Steve. How he hid on the balcony that looked out over the plains. A balcony with a view of the outcrop of trees where everything went to shit. Trees that grew amongst Vision's pleas for logic and action and for Wanda to do the right thing, and the cries of her grief as she gave in to him. Trees that witnessed the bending of reality, the reversal of time, the destruction of life.

Steve remembered all of that and he stood surrounded by the same shame that surrounded me.

Unliftable, unshiftable shame.

He had no words for me when I joined him in his silent vigil, as I had none for him. There was nothing to say that hadn't already been said. Tears glistened on his cheeks and I didn't pretend not to see them, because he couldn't pretend not to see mine. Refusing to fall but still there. His sorrow was bone-deep and suffocating and he couldn't hide the pain anymore, even if it was just for the day. It overwhelmed him so completely that he didn't even try to slip away when Tony and Pepper joined us.

They too were wading through their pain. Pepper's eyes were rimmed with red, a little puffy. Tony's lips were downturned, his usual wit missing. They clutched each other's hand as if one of them would disappear if they ever let go.

No one said anything on that balcony. It remained a place of silence, of remembering. Somewhere for us to get the bulk of our emotions out before the world's media recorded everything we said and did. The peace of our reflection would not last long.

It was Steve who broke it. His voice harsh and cracked, even as a whisper. I wish I could forget the way he sounded, I wish I could shake the despair it brought out in me.

"How do you do it? How do you keep it together?"

And I didn't answer right away. If I had, I would have yelled at him. Instead I let the yelling out in my mind. I let my thoughts scream. Don't you see? I'm falling apart. Instead I kept myself composed and whispered back.

"Because I have to."

I can tell you that an hour or so later when I found Bruce, he was hunched over on one of the benches, gripping his hands so tight the knuckles were white. I can say there was a turmoil in his eyes, so tumultuous it was enough to make anyone seasick. And the pain that radiated from him was second only to Thor's.

Who turned up not too long before the ceremony, who stumbled through the halls, burdened by guilt and unbalanced by drink. Carol was the only reason he hadn't collapsed into a heap of whisky fumes and regret. She looped her arm around him and muttered something about trying to sober him up.

When she disappeared Tony came into the hall, followed by the blue of holo-Rocket and Nebula, courtesy of portable devices he'd whipped together. Light years away, even they couldn't hide their feelings.

And Tom, I really wish that was all I had to say. I wish nothing more had happened. I wish I can tell you I remember the ceremony and the journey back home. I wish I can tell you the worst of it was the emotions that overwhelmed everyone. That plagued the speeches and the conversations and the very atmosphere. I wish the mere memory of one year ago was the most painful thing about today.

But Rhodey turned up, fresh from his investigation. And he brought with him footage from a camera overlooked by the attacker. Low quality but a lead nonetheless. I remember searching his eyes and he knew it was something but he wasn't quite sure what he had.

A pixellated shadow haunted the streets before disappearing into the building. Several minutes later it re-emerged and faded into the crowd. It was impossible to see anything apart from the way it walked.

It was a walk I knew well.

The hunched shoulders.

The hanging head.

The talent for disappearing in plain view.

And all I could think about as the speeches happened, as I gave my own, as we watched the flyby and the ceremonial performances, as we commemorated and remembered the fallen, was...

...Fuck.

It was Clint.