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catswag22

3 years ago

Ummm... I have questions that needs to be answered. This was beautifully written. I'm heartbroken and now I'm left questioning everything. I need help..... Also is Natasha going to attack us since she's in the 'familiar' apartment or is she going to listen to us.... Furthermore wtf I- I wonder what's going to happen now. Yelena is off trying to kill Clint so how will it be impacted. How is it going to work out.

What If...? (Part Two)

Thanks @rebeliz777 for asking me to write part two, dream come true to work with one of my favourite authors.

Make sure you go check out part one here before reading this part.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f.reader

Request: A Natasha variant (preferably the one in What If.. who was a survivor of the Ultron apocalypse and then moved to a different timeline where the Avengers Initiative failed) arrived in the ‘canon’ timeline and then meets the reader who happens to be the wife of the ‘canon’ dead Natasha and reader also happens to be dead on Natasha variant’s own different timelines.

Am I making sense? Lol. Anyway, basically, the multiverse is in complete chaos here and different variants arrive in different timelines and Natasha and the love of her life meet each other again in the midst of all chaos. It would also be cool if Natasha variant gets shocked that her wife reader is in fact close to her Russian family. Would also really love Yelena to show up in this fic.

Words: 3.6k

What If...? is a collaborative writing project. Each chapter will be written by a different author but will follow the same storyline based on the request. Each author will add to the story until the request has been fulfilled.

Part Two

The past few hours had been a whirlwind. Yelena had taken you to a small private airport on the outskirts of the city where she led you to a light aircraft. You shouldn’t have been surprised when she had begun to set up for take off, Natasha was able to pilot most aircrafts so it made sense that her sister, a fellow widow, would possess the same skills.

You had strapped into the remaining seat in the cockpit, a wave of nostalgia washing over you as you recalled the countless times you had been a co-pilot for your wife. The memories of the easy smiles she would give you from the pilot's seat, headset resting atop her red locks as she looked over at you with nothing but love and adoration causing your heart to constrict painfully.

You turn away from Yelena, not wanting her to see the tears that were beginning to well in your eyes. You press the heel of your hand to your eyes, rubbing at them to try and get your emotions under control.

Yelena begins to nudge the small plane down the runway, the wheels lifting from the ground as the two of you become airborne. You adjust the headset over your ears, the noise from outside dulled by the noise suppression as your sister-in-law adjusts the dials on the control panel as you reach the desired altitude.

“So where are we going anyway?” you ask, your voice crackling through the headphones. You hadn’t thought to ask before now, too caught up with Yelena’s sudden appearance in your life and the prospect of meeting the rest of Natasha’s family.

She doesn’t even glance at you as she answers, her eyes fixed on the sky ahead as the plane glides through the air.

“Ohio.”

Thankfully the flight wasn’t long, an awkward silence filling the cockpit for the entire duration. You had so many questions but you were unsure how to bring them up, not wanting to dredge up any unpleasant memories for the woman who was clearly still struggling with the loss of her sister.

Instead, you watched the clouds as they rolled by, the sky a bright blue backdrop to one of the strangest days you had experienced in a long time. You hadn’t really done anything since Thanos, spending your days in your small apartment lost in the memories of happier times. The life you once led, days filled with missions and time spent training for the next threat were long behind you. You doubted you would ever be able to go back to it.

Not without Natasha.

When you land, the sun is high in the sky but the heat barely cuts through the late November chill. You’re glad you thought to bring your coat with you, wrapping it tighter around you as you climb down from the plane.

You’re surprised when you see the vehicle that Yelena is leading you towards, a blue pickup is not what you would have expected the blonde assassin to be driving. You don’t say anything as you clamber inside and neither does Yelena as she starts the car and begins the journey to your destination.

After ten minutes of driving, you can’t take the silence anymore and you reach for the radio. You thumb through the stations, trying to find a song that you recognised and smiling when the familiar notes of American Pie float through the air.

You close your eyes as you remember the look on Natasha’s face every time it would come on, the serene smile that would cross her face as she would close her eyes and sway gently to the beat. She never mentioned it but you knew it was one of her favourites and you were glad that the memory didn’t bring with it the usual wave of grief.

The music cuts off abruptly and your eyes fly open, looking over at Yelena and seeing the scowl across her features as she stares at the road ahead.

“No.”

She doesn’t offer any explanation and your stomach lurches as you realise that the song must be tied to one of her childhood memories with Natasha. Why else would the song elicit reactions from the both of them?

You turn your head to the window once more, watching as the truck navigates through the town. You pass shopfronts, football fields and rows and rows of houses; the neat, manicured lawns reflecting the ideal suburban life. You watch kids running around their yards, their laughter ringing through the air.

Yelena turns down a side street and you spy bikes resting against houses, trampolines standing tall in backyards and you even spot a tire swing hanging from one of the many trees. The houses are more spread out here, surrounded by trees and bushes and creating an almost magical, forest feel.

“This is where you grew up.” You don’t pose it as a question, not even looking to Yelena for confirmation.

Natasha had mentioned her time spent in Ohio, a wistful look on her face as she described the idyllic life she was able to lead for those few short years. Your heart had broken for her, knowing that the majority of her childhood had been filled with fear and pain. But you were glad she would always have the memories of her perfect life in the suburbs, even if it was all for show.

Yelena doesn’t respond, pulling into a driveway on the street and cutting the engine of the truck. She sits there for a moment, hands resting on the wheel as she gazes at the house before her. You catch the shimmer of her eyes and you know that the house represents more than you could ever imagine for her.

“C’mon,” she begins after a moment, reaching for the door handle. “Better not keep them waiting.”

She doesn’t wait for you, opening the door and exiting the vehicle. You watch her walk up the driveway, her plaid, yellow coat swaying as she moved. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves as you follow suit.

Yelena is already waiting at the door by the time you catch up to her, the sound of the doorbell echoing from within the house. You hear footsteps moving closer and before you have time to worry about what awaits you on the other side, the door swings open and you’re face to face with a tall, middle-aged man whose wide smile you can only just make out through his thick beard.

“Lena,” he exclaims, wrapping the blonde in a tight hug. “Your mother said you were coming but I didn’t believe her. You haven’t been to see the house since we moved in.”

Yelena pushes herself from his grasp trying to act annoyed by his attention but you catch the smile tugging at her lips. You realise this must be Alexi, the pseudo father that Natasha had told you about. She had always said he had a way of putting his foot in it despite his good intentions and you could see what she meant.

But still, the way he looked at Yelena, you could have sworn he was her biological father.

“And you’ve brought a friend?” His attention was now turned to you and you fight the urge to shrink under his gaze, despite the friendly look on his face.

“No, she’s not a friend,” Yelena answers him, her tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s family.”

You turn to look at her but she’s already pushing past Alexi to walk inside the house, leaving the man standing there looking at you dumbfounded.

“Well,” you say after a few moments of awkward silence, “this wasn’t how I expected to meet my in-laws.”

After the initial shock had worn off, Alexi had ushered you inside. You had followed him through the house to a small kitchen at the back where you saw Yelena being embraced by an older woman with dark hair. As they parted, the woman cupped Yelena's face in her hands while smiling down at her and you knew that it had to be Melina, no one else would look at her with such motherly affection.

Alexi cleared his throat and Melina’s attention fell to you, her smile faltering for only a second before she took a step toward you.

“And this must be Natasha’s wife, I’m so glad to finally meet you.” Her hand was stretched out toward you and you took it in yours, trying not to react to the grip so similar to your wife's’.

“Wait, you knew?” Alexi cut in, the outrage clear on his face.

“Of course I knew,” Melina rolled her eyes as she guided you to the table nearby, her hand gently gripping your elbow. “I knew our Natasha was in love the second I saw her again at the Petersburg house. Plus, she’s still wearing her ring”

You sit at the table, Yelena taking the spot across from you and looking at you with an unreadable expression. Melina moved back to the kitchen, busying herself with arranging food onto dishes and bringing them to the table. Alexi sat down at the head of the table, eyeing you warily as he methodically buttered a roll that Melina had placed in front of him.

“She never really talked about you,” Melina continued as she worked, her eyes flitting to you, “but I wouldn’t take that personally, dear. She was still so guarded around me, even after we took down the Red Room. I don’t blame her, we lost so many years together and I betrayed her trust.”

“She talked about you,” you say after a beat, Melina's eyes flicking to you hopefully. “She had a lot of things she kept secret, it was hard for her to open up, even with me. But sometimes she’d mention something from her time in Ohio and she always seemed happy when she was remembering her time here.”

You feel a warm weight on your hand and your gaze travels from Alexis hand resting over yours to see his eyes shining with emotion. You offer him a smile in return, realising how loved Natasha truly was.

You just hoped that she realised it too.

Melina placed the last dish on the table and the tension is broken as Alexi clears his throat and begins to pile food onto his plate. The rest of you follow suit and soon the room is filled with cutlery clinking against plates and the satisfied sounds of people eating.

“So,” Melina turns to you after a few minutes, “tell us about your Natasha.”

You pause, finishing the food in your mouth before you begin. Once you start, it's hard to stop. You share stories about your time with Natasha, talking about how you first met all those years ago. You share details of missions with her, how proud she always made you, how she always made sure to keep you safe.

It wasn’t all one-sided though. In between your stories, the others would share their own anecdotes about your wife. It was nice to see her through their eyes and to know that the strength she radiated around you was noticed by others.

As emotional as it was, it was nice to be able to talk about her with people who really knew her. They were her family and talking to them made you feel connected to her, something you hadn’t felt for many months. They were all you had left of her and you were glad they had welcomed you so openly.

The food was long gone, the remnants of lunch littering the plates as you all continued to talk. You laughed as Melina told the story of Natasha dying her hair blue when she was younger, an act of rebellion on her part. You even caught Yelena smiling a few times, something you were sure she was incapable of from the solemn attitude she had presented up till now.

“You should go visit her,” Melina says and you catch Yelena stiffen beside you.

You’re confused, unsure exactly what Melina’s words meant, your gut telling you that Yelena’s reaction wasn’t a good sign.

“Visit who?” you question quietly, the light atmosphere that had settled around the table now thick with tension once more.

“Natasha,” she answers you and your breath catches, hope filling you for the briefest of moments. “There was no body to bury but we had a gravestone made and placed nearby. Yelena can take you to see it if you want.”

You try not to let the disappointment show on your face, of course Natasha wasn’t still alive. If she had been, she would have found you before now, she wouldn’t have let you suffer in your grief all those long months.

You can sense from Yelena’s posture that she isn’t thrilled with the idea and to be honest neither are you. You don’t want to be faced with yet another reminder of your loss, of the fact that you were all alone in this world. But Melina’s offer didn’t really leave much room to decline the invitation and you had just found this piece of your wife to cling onto, you didn’t want to ruin your relationship with them before it had really begun.

“Okay,” you agree, trying to return Melina’s smile.

The blue pickup rumbled down the road, the crisp November air swirling through the open windows of the cabin and filling your lungs.

Yelena doesn’t talk and neither do you, the two of you sitting in silence once more as she drives to your destination, every second that passes filling you with dread. The truck turns off the main road, following a dirt track carved out between the trees.

Suddenly, Yelena stops the pickup, the engine idling for a moment before she turns the key and the air is silent around you aside from the sound of birds nearby. You take a deep breath, eyes darting around trying to find what you had come here for.

Your heart clenches as you spot it, a small collection of stones at the end of the path. You don’t have to ask which one is Natasha's, even from where you sat you could make out the Black Widow symbol, her gravestone littered with flowers and other small tokens. You weren’t sure who had put them there but you knew that even though they didn’t know what had happened exactly, the world was thankful for all that she had done for them.

If only they knew what her sacrifice meant, how responsible she was in bringing everyone back.

“Are you ready?” Yelena’s voice catches you off guard, tears springing to your eyes at the thought of leaving the car.

“I can’t do it,” you reply, your voice trembling as you shake you head. “Even though she’s not really there, I just- I can’t.”

Yelena just nods in response, her hands tightening on the wheel for a moment before she reaches over to open the door.

“Come on, Fanny,” she grunts as she steps down from the pickup, the tan dog that Yelena had retrieved from the house following her out.

You smile as a memory of Natasha flashes to your mind, her complaining about one of the aliases she had been given and how ridiculous the name was. You were once again reminded how much Natasha’s legacy was interwoven in other people’s lives, not just your own.

You were glad that you weren’t the only person who was fighting so hard to keep her memory alive.

You watch Yelena as she walks up the path towards the headstone, sitting solitary under a tree. She crouches down for a few minutes, tidying up around the stone. You see her fingers tugging at the weeds that were growing there, adjusting the items that had been placed in Natasha’s memory.

She moves to the side of the headstone then, pressing her head against it and you have to look away, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment of grief. You had lost your wife but Yelena had lost her sister. You were lucky that you had the last five years with Natasha, time was something that Yelena never got.

She rises after a moment, walking to stand in front of the gravestone. You watch as the bottom of her yellow coat sways with the breeze, the cool air whipping through the still open window and making you shiver. You reach over to wind the glass up and by the time you look back to Yelena, she’s no longer alone.

A lady in a black coat is now standing beside her, the two of them seeming to be engaged in a conversation. You wonder if Yelena knows this person, the stiff set of her shoulders radiating annoyance.

The mystery woman reaches into her bag, handing something to Yelena. They talk for a few more minutes and then Yelena is walking back toward you, leaving the woman standing over Natasha’s grave.

Yelena opens the door, ushering the dog inside before climbing in herself. You want to ask about what you just saw but you don’t know if you should, or if she would answer your question anyway.

“I need to go back to New York,” Yelena tells you. “I have something to take care of there.”

It’s the only explanation you get.

It had been a few weeks since your trip to Ohio. November had ended and the days were getting colder. You found yourself dreading the upcoming Christmas, not wanting to spend yet another holiday without your wife.

You hadn’t seen Yelena since she dropped you back home but you had heard from her a few times. You didn’t want to ask how she had acquired your number but every few days she would send you a message checking in, or a random memory of Natasha to share.

The two of you had started to form a tentative friendship but you still had no idea what it was that she had to take care of in the city. Anytime you brought it up she would just brush it off, saying she was getting ready for a job.

You had no idea what she even did for work and to be honest, you were too scared to ask.

Things had been strange in the city the past few days.

Some strange creatures had been spotted around, destroying buildings and terrorising the people of New York.

You had thought about helping whatever team was left but Strange had been in contact with you, telling you he had it all under control for now and that he’d let you know if he needed help. You were fine with that, not really wanting to get caught up in all that craziness again.

Last night had been the worst of it, the sky had lit up across the city, looking like it was about to crack open. You had no idea what it all meant, but by the time you had woken up this morning, things had looked like they had settled down.

There were no more sightings of giant lizard men or people dressed in green suits flying around and dropping explosives. You hoped that Strange had fixed everything, you knew that he had the potential to do some wild things with his magic and you wondered what exactly he had gotten himself into.

You spent the day wandering the city, the biting cold distracting you from your thoughts as you walked. The closer it got to Christmas, the more you were thinking about Natasha and all the traditions you usually shared with her.

You thought about reaching out to Wanda, but you hadn’t heard back from her in months and you figured that she didn’t want to be contacted. So instead you let your feet carry you through the city, the snow falling around you as you shoved your hands deeper into your pocket to try and fight off the cold.

The sky was beginning to darken, so you decided to return home, not wanting to get caught outside at night in the snow. You trekked the familiar path to your apartment, admiring the lights of the city along the way.

You had to hand it to New York, they certainly knew how to celebrate Christmas.

You step off the elevator, walking towards your apartment door. You’re almost there before you notice it, the flicker of a shadow underneath your closed door. Your breath stops short, someone was in your apartment.

You figure it must be Yelena again and you vow to have a talk to her about breaking into people’s houses instead of knocking but just in case, you retrieve the gun hidden in the vent across from your door.

You unlock the front door, opening it slowly and stepping into the dark entryway. You flick the light on, gun raised as you move inside. The door clicks behind you and you strain to hear any kind of movement but all you’re met with is silence.

You decide to do a sweep of the apartment, maybe you had imagined the shadow but your years of training wouldn’t let you rest until you had checked every room.

Taking a deep breath, you turn the corner with your gun still raised and you’re met with another gun pointing back at you.

Your instinct tells you to pull the trigger but you hesitate, the flash of red hair behind the gun stopping you in your tracks.

You take in the intruder. Her hair was shorter than you remembered, her green eyes looking more haunted than they had before the Time Heist but it was her. Or at least a version of her.

You see her falter as well, her gun lowering slightly as she looks at you in recognition and disbelief. She whispers your name, your chest constricting as you hear her voice. Something you never thought you would hear again.

Your voice sounds choked as you reply, your whole world shifting in one moment.

“Natasha?”

Onto part three, take it away @vancityfire13 ! I can’t wait to see where you go with it ❤️