Natasha cast an evaluating eye at Harry and Carol. They sat together in a way that was casual yet spoke of their comfort with each other. There clearly was a new intimacy between them, and even though she had initiated it, it still stung. Not because she wanted to jealously keep Harry to herself. No, after their arrangement with Skye, Wanda, and Shuri, that hardly registered. But she was jealous, nonetheless.
She wished she could be right there, next to him. She wished affection could flow as easily between them as it once had. She wished it could be like before, when she had hope, when she was happy. But she just… couldn't. Everything felt like a performance, now. Harry had always made her feel comfortable just being herself, but if she didn't put on a mask and perform, she's probably just lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Harry wanted her to let it out, but there was nothing to let out, not anymore. She felt… empty.
She couldn't just go comatose, though. Not only was there so much to do, but if she completely shut down she was sure her friends (Harry at the head) would take far more drastic measures. 'Natasha is burying herself in her work' looked a lot better than 'Natasha is completely dissociated'. So, she put on the mask, got out there, and did her duty. She worked herself to the bone because there was nothing else for her to do.
She had even arranged it so that Harry might be able to move on from her, to be happy. She was a lost cause, but she could see that he was working his magic on Carol. They would be good together, and Harry needed someone to love him and love in return- it was his nature. She just didn't expect it to hurt so much. It was the first thing that had pierced through the numb, and she didn't know how to handle it.
Other members of the team filed in. Thor was, miraculously, sober. Clint was pale and withdrawn. The two of them had at times since the snap, sat together in her office, neither speaking, both silently contemplating their respective losses. Steve, Rocket, Nebula, Rhodes, and Bruce straggled in one or two at a time. At the center of the room, however, was Tony, who looked quite pleased with himself, like he had a secret he just couldn't wait to spill. It was a familiar look on him, but not one she had seen since the battle.
To Tony's side was Scott Lang, who looked like he was just happy to be here. "Scott, I thought you were in San Francisco with your daughter?" Steve asked him.
"Oh, yeah." Scott said "I am, was. Buuuut I was looking through some of Hank's old notes… and I found something."
"I guess that means the meeting's starting." Tony said "Scott sent the notes over to me, and they looked like they had potential."
"Why is this the first we're hearing about this?" Bruce asked "And you're being evasive, Tony. Why are you being evasive?"
"Becaauuse I didn't want to give anyone false hope." Tony said, causing a ripple around the room.
"False… hope?" Steve asked carefully.
"That implies you have real hope now." Harry probed.
Tony activated a projected image and gestured to it as if it explained everything. "Okay, what are we looking at here?" Bruce asked, squinting at the figure floating in the air. It was a wristband of sorts, along with a series of calculations and specifications.
Tony leaned forward, and with a shit eating grin said, "Time travel."
Natasha sucked in a breath, unable to fully accept what her ears were telling her. Around her were gasps and murmurs as everyone handled the revelation in their own way. "What… do you mean… we can go back?" Clint rasped "Change what happened? Just like that?"
"No, there's no way we can just rewrite what happened." Bruce shook his head "If you change the past, you'll just create a different timeline… probably."
Natasha was on a knife's edge as Tony responded "We're not going to change the past. All we need to do is get the Infinity Stones."
Carol snapped her head up "Then we can undo it."
"Exactly."
"We can bring everyone back." she choked "We can fix everything…" While Harry laid a reassuring hand on Carol's shoulder, Natasha reeled. Everything was coming apart. Having the promise of getting it all back- her daughter, her sister, her friends, her life- put it all in perspective. Suddenly, it all hurt again, like a scarred wound being ripped open. She bolted from the room, finding some secluded corner of the facility to curl up in and cry.
Harry found her like that- shaking and sobbing and pathetic. "Oh Nat." He murmured, affection and pain and above all, relief in his voice. He wrapped his arms around her, and this time she didn't resist. She folded into his embrace and cried against his chest. "It's going to be okay." He said "We're going to bring her back. We'll bring everyone back."
-----
Natasha felt shaky on her feet after crying herself out, and Harry took it upon himself to scoop her into his arms. She sputtered at the manhandling but didn't fight him. Somehow, along with the negative emotions, she'd unlocked the positive ones too. This was fun, and it felt nice to let him carry her back to their room.
Their room, a room she'd barely been in for the past month. She'd… she'd completely abandoned him, at the worst possible time, when he'd just lost his entire world too. She felt rotten. "Nat?" Harry asked, and she was struck by the fear in his voice. He'd noticed the change in her mood and was terrified that she was going to withdraw completely.
She'd done that.
"It's okay, I'm just sorry. For leaving you alone all this time." She told him "You're stronger than I am."
Harry shook his head. "I can't imagine what you've been through." He said, but Natasha persisted.
"You lost everything twice, and you're still going." She argued "That would have killed me."
"I'm not in the business of comparing trauma." Harry said "Can we just say that we've both been through terrible things and leave it at that?"
"Sure." Natasha agreed. When they reached his room, he pushed the door open with his magic and threw her onto the bed. She laughed. God, how long had it been since she'd laughed? Thinking about it made her cry, and so she was laughing and crying simultaneously. It was contagious, and soon Harry was laughing with her out of hysterical relief.
Some time later, they were tangled up in bed, and Natasha felt the familiar flicker of another long-suppressed emotion. It had been a month since she'd felt anything resembling arousal. Before the snap, her libido had literally never been more hyper-active, but it had been snuffed out in an instant, like everything else. Now that it had been relit, that small spark quickly escalated into an inferno. It was like her body was making up for lost time. She needed him.
Nat turned and pressed herself to Harry's side. He immediately sensed her intention. "Nat, we don't need-"
She cut him off with a fierce kiss, pouring the entirety of her tangled web of emotions into it. "Harry, I haven't been fucked in a month." She hissed "So I want you to take your cock." She groped his crotch and was satisfied to feel that he was hard "And fuck me."
"It's been a month for me too, you know."
"What about Carol? I handed her to you on a silver platter."
Harry grunted and pinned Natasha to the bed "Yeah. To get me to move on from you." He growled "How fucking dare you, Nat."
Natasha gasped. In her and Harry's sexual relationship, he was normally not this dominant. Sometimes she took charge, and sometimes they acted more as equals, but she couldn't complain at the sudden shift in their usual dynamic. He smacked her ass, more of a love tap than a serious spanking, but it ripped an embarrassingly loud moan from her throat regardless. "I should be insulted that you actually thought that it'd work. That even if Carol did seduce me, that I'd ever give up on you."
He smacked her ass again, this time with more force. "Oh fuck!" Nat moaned. She wasn't sure she'd ever been this turned on, certainly never while in a submissive role. After spending so much of her life with so little control even over her own destiny, she'd found it hard to treat sexual submissiveness as anything other than a performance for someone else's benefit.
This was anything but a performance. Her libido was leaping to Harry's every touch, aligning itself in the direction he set for it. She wanted to submit to him. After a month of distancing herself from him, she wanted him to reclaim her. After letting him struggle on his own, she wanted to let him sate himself however he wanted on her body. After being a complete bitch to him at times, she wanted him to punish her.
She arched her ass into the air and wiggled it, tempting him to smack her again, which he did repeatedly, each time drawing a yelp from her. He only paused to run a hand down to her crotch. She was wet, so wet than it had seeped through. "Fuck. You love this." He said, genuine realization in his voice. She couldn't suppress her blush as she nodded. Even through her clothes, his touch felt good against her sensitive flesh, robbing her of her ability to think. She breathed a sigh of relief when his hand left, only for it to turn into a strangled gasp as he slotted his body in behind her. His comforting, masculine scent enveloped her, making her feel secure and inflamed all at once. She could feel his breath in her ear, his chest pressing down against her back, and most importantly his cock against her sex. He thrust against her, sending a cascade of pleasure in her core. Nat eagerly lifted her hips and rutted back against him, seeking more of the friction. "Tell me what you want, Nat." Harry said, his voice low and enticing in her ear. She shivered.
"Please fuck me." She whined "Please. I need your cock." She barely recognized her own voice. Had she ever sounded so needy and pitiful before? She doubted it, and Harry seemed to agree.
"Who would have thought that I'd have the infamous Black Widow begging for my cock?" He said with a teasing lilt in his voice. It was deliberately the sort of gloating that she'd heard many times in her career. Were anyone else saying them, the most these words would have gotten from her was an internal eye roll. After all, one of her classic tactics was to get her opponents to underestimate her so that they would let their guard down or reveal information.
But here, with Harry, the words electrified her. They drew a keening whimper from her, a noise so desperate that it didn't sound human. "Please." She begged "Please give me your cock. I'll tell you everything." She was purposefully leaning into the impromptu roleplay that Harry had initiated and had taken root in her mind. Would Harry reciprocate?
"Oh, is that so?" Harry asked "Mission details? Other operatives? Blacksites and assets?"
"Yes, all of it. I'll sing like a bird." Technically they weren't lying. She'd debrief him on the ops she'd been working on, even if they were all going on the backburner after today's revelations. "Just… fuck me."
Suddenly, his presence behind her lifted, and Natasha felt a distinct sense of loss. But only for a moment, as she turned around, his eyes were there to meet her, boring into her with an intensity that made her shudder. "You're mine." He said "And now, you're going to strip for me."
She didn't question it, almost couldn't question it. The desire to please him loomed so large that it felt as if she'd been put into a fugue state. She eagerly stripped, putting the utmost effort into making the performance artful and enticing. She could feel his eyes scour her skin, and it felt good. She wanted more, more hunger in his eyes, and she got it when she removed her bra. He licked his lips, his gaze darkening with lust while his hand palmed his erection through his clothes. She felt his lust in her body, like a static charge that washed over her. Yet still, she wanted more. She approached him and pressed her breasts together "Do you like what you see, sir?" She asked demurely.
"Fuck, Nat." He hissed, breaking character and delighting her.
She turned and bent over, pulling down her panties and revealing to him just how wet and dripping she was, if it hadn't already been apparent by the dampness of her panties and the sheen on her thighs. "Whenever, and however you want, sir." She replied, with perhaps a little cheek.
"Is that so?" He growled "At attention." She sprung back up and faced him, intentionally fast enough to make her breasts jiggle. He stood, banishing his clothes in a puff of magic. She'd never been more aware of the height difference between them, or how powerful his muscles looked, or how he looked as if he was ready to swallow her whole. Then there was his cock, which now freed from its confines swelled and throbbed to fullness before her eyes.
Natasha could only gape at him as he reached out and took her breast in his hand. Despite the feverish want in his eyes, his touch was more restrained, almost clinical. The realization struck her at once- like he was inspecting his property. She whined, a combined result of the force of that realization and the way he toyed with her nipple. His hand moved down, then, to her sex. She only lasted a few second into his 'examination', once he 'happened upon' her clit she was done for. She folded into him as her orgasm claimed her, clinging to him for stability as her body shook with euphoria. Harry held her with a comforting tenderness as she rode out her climax. As she resettled, she looked up at him warmly, borderline besotted.
God, she'd missed him.
Harry returned with a grin, before pushing down onto her knees. Her eyes focused on his cock, which took up most of her vision. Automatically, she opened her mouth, moving to take him, but he stopped her with a hand cupped the back of her head, using her braided hair as a grip. "So eager." Her crooned "You want to suck my cock Nat?"
"Yes." She breathed, tilting her head to leave her lips just short of him. She resorted exhaling along his flesh, drawing a groan from him. "I want it." She wanted him in her mouth. She wanted to feel him, firm and real against her. She wanted to make him feel good, to make him moan, to make him cum. "Please let me suck your cock."
That, she knew, would do the trick, and sure enough Harry moaned and his hand guided up and onto his cock. At first, he held the reigns tightly, gently pressing and pulling her up and down his shaft in a bobbing motion. Nat was more than happy with this, moaning softly while she marshalled all her accumulated knowledge to give him the blowjob of his life. Given how long it had been since he'd had sex, she was impressed by how long it took for him to slip. After a particularly thorough application of suction, however, Harry's hips jerked forward involuntarily. Natasha took the opportunity to swallow him to the hilt, and Harry moaned low and loud. She savored his moan, hearing his struggle for self-control against the pleasure she was giving him in every note and warble in the drawn-out noise. Self-control won, temporarily, and he began pulling her back up his shaft, but Natasha fought for every inch. She didn't physically resist him, though, she merely tried to persuade him otherwise through clever use of her lips and tongue. Still, he won that battle, all the way up to the point where she reached his cockhead.
There, as her lips clung tenaciously to his crown, Harry broke. His grip slackened, allowing her to move freely. She bobbed her head for more vigorously than he had allowed, swiftly driving him to orgasm. His hand still held the back of her head, but not it followed her movements rather than guiding them. "Nat! Nat! Nat!" Harry cried out, with increasing need as she took him to the hilt three times in rapid succession, essentially fucking him with her throat. It felt good, to take him so thoroughly, to love him so completely. To finish him off, she returned to his cockhead, swirling her tongue around him with vigor. Harry cried out and lost himself in her mouth.
Unlike, for example, Maria, she was prepared for his superhuman volume. As long as he'd been denying himself, she wasn't surprised when her mouth instantly flooded with his seed. She swallowed two generous mouthfuls before letting him douse her face, panting and suckling at his frenulum as he released himself. By Harry's almost desperate whine at the first white streaks decorated her face, she judged that the move had been an absolute success. She loved how it felt, to be covered by him, the evidence of his pleasure. It was only when his orgasm began to slacken she took him back into her mouth to finish him off, sucking away to draw out his pleasure as much as possible.
As he finished, he tipped back onto the bed and Natasha crawled on top of him. She had yet to swallow the last of his orgasm, and as she perched herself atop of him, her face glistening with his seed, she opened her mouth to display what she had collected. Harry whined, his cock twitching beneath her.
If he had wanted to stay in control, he should have kept his cock further away from her mouth.
------
While Tony had developed the technology, there was still work to be done. They needed a plan, after all. The Tesseract, Loki's Staff, and the Eye of Agamoto, they had realized, were all in New York during the day of Loki's invasion. The Ether would be most available when it had been brought back to Asgard by Jane Foster. The Power Stone had been kept, mostly forgotten and unguarded on an alien world before Peter Quill had recovered it.
And the Soul Stone… that was the question mark. "We don't know what we're going to find there." Harry had told the team when he volunteered to retrieve the stone "All we know is that Gamora died there, but we don't know why." That was the explanation he gave, but it wasn't the true reason he had volunteered. In truth, he didn't quite know himself. He just… had a feeling.
Nebula had described the planet it was kept on- Vormir - as "A Dominion of Death.". It was a title that no one quite knew the meaning of, but had been in use for as far back as the records stretched. The implications weren't lost on Harry. Death was the reason why he was here in this world to begin with. He wondered if it was possible for him to at last, get some answers.
"You be careful." Carol murmured beside him.
"Oh, I'll make sure he is." Natasha said from his other side. The three of them were cuddled together on a couch, unwinding after a long day.
It was a new arrangement, but it was… nice. His and Carol's relationship hadn't become sexual, not yet, but it had certainly become intimate in other ways, including cuddling. Natasha had given her enthusiastic permission for him to pursue whatever he liked with Carol, and he well knew that Carol would be more than receptive to his advances, but Harry had held off. Frankly, it just didn't feel right, to rush into sex with so much else going on. Maybe when this was over and everyone was back, they could talk about it. For now he was happy rediscovering his relationship with Nat, savoring every moment he had with her. Even right now, just holding her in his arms... he never wanted to take a moment like this for granted again.
"Right back at you." Harry returned. Natasha had insisted that she accompany him to Vormir, while Carol would be going with Tony, Steve, and Scott to New York. The concentration of three Infinity Stones in the city and the possibility that if their cover was blown Thanos might intervene personally called for the big guns. Thor and Rocket would be going to Asgard, while Nebula and Rhodey would retrieve the Power Stone. That left Bruce, who had elected to stay behind in case anything went wrong on that end.
While Harry played it off casually, he couldn't help but wonder if they were right to be worried. He didn't know what to expect on this ancient alien world, but he had a niggling feeling... something didn't feel right about it. Maybe... maybe it was for the best that he and Carol didn't get too close.
-----
Vormir was cold, but it had an ethereal beauty to it. It felt like a place beyond time, forever untouched by the ebbs and flows of civilization. But they were not there to sight see. "If the stone's anywhere, I'd say it's the top of that spire." Natasha said. Harry nodded, took her hand, and apparated them both to the top.
They were not alone. The cold wind whipped around them, but the man didn't seem phased. He had red skin and was cloaked in black. The fabric was unlike anything he'd ever seen, it seemed to dissolve in the air itself. He looked almost like a ghost, and Harry wondered if he was truly alive, or dead, or somewhere in between.
He didn't envy him.
"You come here seeking the stone." The guardian said.
"Who are you? How did you get here?" Harry asked.
"I too once sought the stones." The guardian answered "But I was cursed to stand guard here, guiding others to a treasure I cannot possess."
Harry felt a pang in his chest. Natasha pressed on "And what do we need to do?"
"What you seek lies before you. In order to take the stone, you must lose what you love, an everlasting exchange. A soul for a soul."
No one spoke for a moment as the implications sunk in. "No." Natasha whispered, immediately grasping the situation. She couldn't hope to stop him from sacrificing himself if that was what he decided.
"An exchange." He asked "An exchange with who?" The guardian didn't respond. Of course he didn't. "Before I die, I'd like to know who I'm selling my soul to."
"Would it make a difference?" The guardian asked.
No, it would not. Besides, he had an idea already.
Natasha clutched him "Don't do this." She begged "Please, let it be me. Let it be me. I'm begging you."
Harry pulled her to him, wrapping them both up in a desperate hug. "I'm sorry." He breathed.
"Why does it have to be you that sacrifices their life? Why can't you let someone else do it for once?" She pleaded into his chest. "I love you. You can be happy. You can have everything you ever wanted. Let me give that to you."
"Its… not just you, Nat." He said. "What about Lily?"
If Natasha sacrificed herself, it wouldn't just be her life at stake, but their daughter's. He couldn't bear that. In the end, it had never been a question. There was only one way to protect his family, his entire family.
He would never meet them, never know them. Just like he'd never know what happened to his friends in his first world. He had sacrificed himself to give them a future, but it was a future he would never get to enjoy. His job too, was to guide people to a treasure he would never possess.
Natasha sobbed, seeing the immovable force of his reasoning. "Damn you."
He pulled back to look at her. Tears streaked down her face and stung his eyes. He kissed her, a soft lingering kiss that Nat tried to draw out. "I love you." He said, "And I hope… that one day, when you remember me, I'll make you smile again."
He looked at her for one last time, drinking her in. She really was amazing, not just resilient, but with a bigger heart than she ever gave herself credit for. He thought of Skye, of her passion and cleverness. He thought of Wanda, her strength and the way she threw herself into love. He thought of Shuri's brilliance. He thought of Tony's wit, Steve's integrity, and Thor's determination. He was going to lose so many people.
But Harry was no stranger to loss, and he knew that no matter what happened next, he wouldn't be losing them, not really. Harry jumped, and Natasha's howling cry dissolved in the wind roaring in his ears. It almost felt like flying, he thought.
And then, just like that, he remembered.
-----
"Of course this is all in your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it is not real?" Dumbledore's words hung in the air with a sense of finality, and Harry expected that he would now be returned to his body, thrown back into the fire to finally finish the fight against Voldemort. It was very like his old Headmaster, to send him off with a few clever words of wisdom.
That is not what happened, and immediately Harry felt that something was deeply wrong. Dumbledore had vanished, and King's Cross seemed otherwise unchanged, but Harry did not feel as if he were alone. "Who's there?" He asked, trying to keep the nerves out of his voice.
"Hello Harry." A cool feminine voice said. Before his eyes, a figure seemed to congeal out of the air, forming like a mist and coalescing into a human shape. It- she- was composed without color. Her skin was white- white like bone- and she was clothed in a black fabric that flowed around her from almost like a liquid. He had difficulty getting register on her facial features, but he could tell that she was hauntingly beautiful. Along with her appearance, he felt a rush of cold, not unlike the cold that heralded the presence of a dementor. "I'm Death."
Why, oh why, did he have the worst luck possible? He couldn't simply return to fight Voldemort on last time, he had to face the terrifying specter of death? "Er." He fumbled "Why are you here? Aren't I allowed to go back?" He asked. He really didn't want to be forced into the afterlife, whatever it was. There were people counting on him, and as much as he'd love to see his parents… he wanted to make a family of his own.
"You know, most mortals fall to their knees and beg for mercy when they see me." She said, amusement in her voice.
"Must get old." Harry managed. Whether this was a goddess or some other entity, he wasn't going to submit himself to her mercy.
"Yes. I'm glad we can get straight to the point. I'm not here to keep you from returning, Harry Potter. No, I'm here to thank you." She had gotten closer, though he hadn't seen her take a step. Harry's unease rose, like something toxic bubbling up his throat.
"What for?" He took a step back.
"You've unified my hallows." She said simply. He remembered now, he'd died with the cloak, and the stone, and he had apparently owned the wand since disarming Draco. Wizards had dreamed of wielding all three Deathly Hallows, but Harry was beginning to realize that it was a curse, a trap.
"So what, do I get a prize?" Harry asked, equal parts sarcasm and hysteria as he continued to back up in the face of her approach.
Death laughed "Oh, you're fun. But no." Her eyes, those pure black irises that seemed to go on forever, bored into his "There is a reason why I created the hallows, and it wasn't to play a trick on a trio of wizards. You can think of them as a key."
"A key?"
"A key to your world." Harry's mouth went dry. Her hand closed on his shoulder. She was deathly cold to the touch, and he felt rooted in place. He could feel her power, it was oppressive, like standing next to an inferno. "I normally can't directly interact with the physical world, you see. I have to go through intermediaries. Through that Veil that the wizards keep under lock and key, or through disciples who knowingly submit themselves to me. But now, thanks to you, Harry, I can."
Harry didn't want to imagine what… what Death would do if she got unlimited access to the world. It was too much to ask that she'd only take care of people like Voldemort and let the rest be. No. If she had been locked away (But by who?How?), it was for a reason. "What are you going to do? Why are you telling me this?"
"I'll do whatever I want." She said without hesitation "A whole world to play with, it'll be fun. As for you, you'll be my conduit into your world… and I could use a pet."
Harry ripped himself from her grip and stumbled back, falling to the ground. "No." He breathed. It felt like a nightmare, he wanted desperately to wake up. Maybe his nightmare would awaken Ron and he and Hermione would keep him company while he tried to go back to sleep. But that was just deluding himself. There was no way out, only…
"I think if you so desired, you could board a train."
That was what Dumbledore told him. If it was his unification of the Deathly Hallows that had caused this, maybe his death would stop it? In response to his unconscious call, he heard the Hogwarts Express in the distance.
Death smiled cruelly "You think I'm going to let you die? I don't just control death, I am Death. You will die when I say you die." Harry scrambled back from her "But do keep on fighting, I am enjoying it."
She was right. He had no doubt at all that she could stop him from boarding the train. If he was going to do anything, he had to make it quick. The train's horn sounded, and Harry had one last idea. Go on. He willed it. Keep going, don't slow down.
The train barreled towards them, and Harry desperately cast for a way to keep Death distracted "So what are you going to do to me now?" He felt ill at the way she looked at him, like she wanted to flay him apart and eat him.
"Like I said." Her voice turned smooth "Whatever I want."
Harry jumped, throwing himself into the path of the oncoming train. He only had a moment to register Death's shock before the train struck him. It hurt, but the pain didn't linger, and the impact sent him careening off. King's Cross dissolved before his eyes, fading into blackness. It felt like he was falling. There was no wind to whip through his hair and no perspective to judge from, but the weightless feeling in his gut remained. He was falling… falling… falling…
------
Harry hit the icy ground hard. It hurt, but he knew it wouldn't last long. Already, numbing cold was seeping into his body. Soon, very soon, he would be dead.
It all made sense now. His first memories of waking up in that desert in New Mexico had been of an impact with the ground, followed by panicked hyperventilation. He had spent the last decade wondering why? Had he been sent here as a cruel punishment, or for some greater purpose? Now he had his answer. He hadn't been sent to this world. He had willfully thrown himself into the unknown to save the people he loved. This hadn't been a punishment and it wasn't an exile. This hadn't been Death's plan at all, it had been him thwarting her all along. It had been him fighting back as best he could, protecting his friends, his family.
And here, two of the hallows had already been destroyed. Perhaps that had been part of Stephen's plan. That was good, but what about the Resurrection Stone? Where could it-
Oh. Of course. Now he understood. He hoped they used it well.
Harry left this world at peace.