Natasha lets the water cover her face as she lays back down in the heated tub, closing her eyes so everything goes dark as well as muted. She stays there for some time, slowly releasing bubble after bubble of oxygen until there's nothing left in her chest. Still she doesn't come up, hands clasped at her side. She stays there as her lungs begin to burn, sending frantic messages to the brain that she needs to breathe. She needs oxygen and therefore must inhale. She inhales she dies, and so she doesn't. She waits until the panic sets fire to her blood, till it races inside her and forces her heart into a frenzied jig and still she counts down the seconds.

Ten.

Nine.

A hand on her shoulder nearly surprises her so much that she breathes in, but not a moment later she's out of the water, spluttering, hair in her face as she turns to see Steve glowering down at her, concern hidden just behind the fear.

"Dang it, Tasha, are you trying to give me a heart attack?" He growls as he slaps her on the back, ignoring her protests and her splutters as she tries to get a word in. "As if I don't feel guilty enough as it is when it's not even my fault for what happened-."

"Steve," she finally chokes out, glaring up at him with fierce blue eyes. "I'm not trying to. I was thinking."

A pause. "Thinking? But Jarvis said you were dangerously close to-."

"You know who I am, Steve. You really think I can manage to take a bath without it being at least somewhat dangerous?" She's only half joking and he tries really hard not to smile at her. "Besides it's quiet there. It's the only place I can shut everything up and just think." It's not a line, it's really not, and though she very much enjoys living she can't help but find solace in the peace and tranquility that accompanies a near death experience, the way that accepting it simply makes all the other voices and the shouting in her head disappear, leaving her with a blank slate so she can actually think. He doesn't say a word at first, just turns to leave instead. She doesn't grab for him this time, watching his broad frame as it pauses just in the doorway.

"I want to talk to you and Loki today," he murmurs. "Separate and then together. I want to get to the bottom of this, and since he's got more invested on telling the truth than you do I'm gonna hear him out."

Her stomach sinks a little but she nods. That she's lost his trust is a significant blow; she knows it'll take years to build back up, especially to the level it was once at, but he's worth it. She can work at it because she knows that he needs the reassurance as much as she does that this can work, that even though she's an idiot and made the biggest mistake of her life in involving herself with Loki again they can come back from it.

At least she hopes so, and as it's all she has left she clings to it like a drowning man does oxygen.

"I loved you, you know that?" He asks, turning to face her.

Loved? She swallows hard at the past tense. "Then I'm sorry to have lost it, Steve. I really am."

He stares at her for a long time, his adam's apple bobbing as he struggles to find words. He's never been particularly good with them, preferring to show rather than to tell, and an idea strikes her. "When did you want to talk?"

"Later. After I've settled in I guess." He shrugs.

"Wanna meet me in the training room first?" She asks, trying for a smile. Maybe a good match will cheer him up, help him get some of the pent up aggression and emotion out.

It's apparently the wrong thing to say because his blank face turns into a scowl. "No. Last time I heard you were going to the training room you ended up in Loki's bed; why would I bother taking that chance that you'll somehow detour there again?"

"I'm not with him anymore-I broke it off," Natasha insisted, stepping closer as her voice betrayed her hurt that he'd even consider that. It was understandable, but that didn't mean it didn't sting like a bitch. "I'm done with him. For good."

"You've told me that before, too."

"Steve, you have to-."

"I can't trust you, Natasha. I can't!" His hand slams against the wall behind him, denting it. Natasha'll get blamed for that when Stark patches it up later, or makes her do it, and she can't help but let a small bubble of anger burst inside her.

"Steve I fucked up, okay? I'm owning up to it and coming to terms with it but if you're not going to be able to look past it-because yes, it's terrible-then fucking tell me that we're done so I stop getting my damn hopes up. It's over between Loki and I. For good. No matter what happens I'm never going back to that asshole because he doesn't make me feel nearly the way that you do."

"What, like he's dependent on you?" Steve muttered.

"No, like I need him. I need you, Steve." She admitted as her voice broke. Her hands fist at her sides, nails piercing the skin of her palms gently as she looks down at the floor, licking her lips to try and find words. How does one manage to cut out their heart and show what's in it without bleeding to death, though? Perhaps she'll never find out.

"I need you. I need you because you're so good, and you're so not like me that it's hard to remember that I need you because all I can think of is that I'm going to disappoint you. I'm going to hurt you again, and betray you, and I can't be as good as you want me to be. I tried, but I can't. But I need you so I can at least pretend that I can be that good." With some reserve of strength she didn't know she had inside her she looked up into his eyes, trying to find him in the depths of pain and betrayal she didn't think she'd ever see leave him. "I need you because when I'm with you I feel good. I feel like what I do makes a difference, like I can be a positive influence on this world. Like you. I need to be with you because I'm a leech, and your happiness bleeds into my happiness." There wasn't any other way to put it. "And when you're miserable I am, especially when I'm the cause of it. I don't mean to hurt you because it only hurts me in the end, but it happens. I'm not good for you, Steve, but I'm too damn selfish to let you go. Please." There's the begging again, the last word choking her as she struggles to get it out. He hasn't said a word throughout her entire confession, face guarded and expression blank as he refuses to give her any sort of idea what's going on in his head.

He leaves shortly after that, silent and retreating to the comfort and familiarity of his own room, she assumes, letting her crumble and succumb to the voices in her head, the ones she hasn't heard since she was in the Red Room, lamenting about how useless she was. How pathetic, and weak, and nothing that anyone wanted and everyone simply could ignore. She knows it's not fair to him, knows that she can't come back from what she does and hates herself for seeming like the victim when it's her fault for the whole damn situation, but her epiphanies and realizations only make the voices louder, and though she considers disappearing into the bathtub and not resurfacing this time around she simply shakes her head and grabs a pair of sneakers to go running. Maybe, just maybe, if she goes fast enough she can leave all her problems behind her, too.

Loki ignores the first time Steve bangs on his door, pretends he doesn't hear the second, so by the third time Steve just breaks past the door and steps into the room anyway. The god glowers at him from where he's sitting at his desk.

"What the bloody hell do you want?" He demands, turning from the soldier to his book.

"In three hours I want to talk to you and Natasha together. I want answers for what's been happening, and you two are going to man up and tell me." Steve demands. There's no room for questioning there, no sort of way he can think to get out of it. He knows if he doesn't the captain will either take it upon himself to drag Loki to the meeting place, or else call upon Thor if Loki gets truly difficult. Better not to chance it, he supposes. He's been humiliated enough.

"Fine. Where?"

"Library. No one else will be there and it's unlikely Clint will find out that's where we're going. I don't want any interference."

At least that made two of them. Loki nods, pursing his lips as he turns back to his book.

"You really thought she was going to pick you, didn't you?" Steve asks before Loki can shout at him to leave. It only riles the god up further, growling low in his throat as he slams the book shut and stands. Before Steve can do a thing Loki is in his face, snarling with his hand at the soldier's throat.

"Don't fucking say a thing to me about that," he demands.

"She'll never be with you. She loves me."

Loki winds back to strike Steve, about to punch him, but the soldier dodges and instead lands his fist into Loki's gut, winding him in his surprise. The god doubles over and Steve brings his knee cap to his face, feeling the man's classic nose shatter under his force.

"Don't fucking try and mess with me again," the soldier growled, bringing his elbow down hard on the back of Loki's neck. He could have disintegrated him there on the spot if he wanted, but the Allfather would never forgive him for breaking the tentative truce they had on Midgard. So he let the pain ratchet higher and higher, ignoring the way the blood dripped down his nose and into his mouth. "Don't manipulate me, don't lie to me. Don't. Mess. With me. I'm a soldier and you're a sniveling brat." He shoved the limp god back so that he tumbled onto the floor, a mess and glaring heatedly. "Three hours." It's the last words he says to Loki before stepping through the wreckage of the door. Loki fixes it with a snap of his fingers, the wood moving back into place the same time that Loki's nose snaps back, too.

Steve's all but bouncing on his feet as he waits for Natasha and Loki to show up later. He can't believe he's going through with this, that he's even entertaining the idea of talking with them or even coming back at all. For a moment he wishes he'd stayed in Europe, seen the sights, started over. Fury owed him so much more than just that, and he would've made him accept the Captain's resignation. But Steve wasn't a runner, he didn't quit, and he certainly wasn't about to be run out of town by some lunatic who thought he was the best of the best. As for Natasha. He sighed and tried nto tto think about her or make a decision until he heard everything. Not that he was sure he'd want to, but it was the right thing to do, even if he didn't like it.

It was Nat who showed up first ,looking as if she'd just finished a run, cheeks pink and eyes a little brighter than normal, hair tied back and arms crossed over her tank top. Steve couldn't help the way his breath caught in his throat, wishing he'd been a little more prepared for the way she always looked so beautiful no matter what the situation, but then? When it was so close to how she looked after a fight, or a sparring session, when they'd gotten the most intimate and familiar with each other on and off the field, well, he had to push those thoughts away. He had to keep strong. She stood opposite him for a moment, looking around as a small smile quirked her full lips.

"Hell of a place to pick. Aren't you supposed to be quiet in here?" She chances a fuller smile that makes Steve bite back a chuckle.

"I didn' twant to be interrupted-."

"So shall I leave?" Loki's dry response echoes in Steve's bones, setting his teeth on edge and his heart racing to pummel the bastard into the ground.

"After. Now I want you to sit." He orders Loki, though it's Natasha who follows orders, Natasha who's used to the commanding voice of her Captain and following his orders. Her immediate response lightens the burden on Steve's shoulders, allowing him to relax. It's her way of saying that things aren't going to be awkward if they end up working together again, and it's more than he could've hoped for. Nothing would get them killed faster. She doesn't look at him as she sits, her eyes on the ground, hands folded in her lap, at rest and yet ready to move into action. He's always admired the subtle strength in everything she does, how she can look so peaceful and yet flood his body with adrenaline and worry that with one wrong move or word she'd be set off.

Again he has to push these thoughts out of his head. Perhaps he's not quite ready to face her, not just yet. Not when the man he'd caught her legs wrapped around sits just on the other side of her, legs spread far apart and his own eyes staring mockingly up at Steve. It's all the soldier can do not to lay him flat on his back and beat his body until it breaks.

Breathe. He has to remind himself to breathe.

"Who started everything?" Steve finally asks, barely finding the words after he struggles for a little bit. He's not quite sure how to word it. What the hell, though, right? He's already caught them in the act, it's not as though things can get any stranger or more awkward. The two in front of him look at one another for the quickest of moments before Natasha turns back to Steve.

"I did," she admits and it's enough to make Steve clench his jaw. It's not the news he'd like to hear. Loki doesn't say anything else and that's enough to make Steve hate him all the more. "It was just after you and I had started going on dates. I was coming back from a stressful mission. China, with Clint? And I wanted to blow off a little steam. You were skittish about doing much more than kissing, and it was my fault that I didn't try and push myself too much in the training ring or at least talk to you about it. But I didn't, and so I went to Loki and, well, propositioned him."

Loki smirked, obviously pleased with himself, and it's all Steve can do to look away. "And who kept it going?"

"The blame lies with both of us," Loki said before Natasha could get another word in. "She comes to me to fuck and, well, I'm sure you can understand why I won't want to let her go. She's rather addictive in the bedroom, wouldn't you say?" He asks, milking the situation for all it was worth.

Natasha snarls for him to shut up, her eyes narrowing this time. "Say one more rude thing like that and I'll kick your ass myself," she mutters.

"That being said," Loki says, pressing on and over her words. "I care very deeply for Natasha. I'd not have tried to keep her so hard just because she's excellent at sex; if I wanted that I'd find a whore who catered to my appetites. Natasha and I are too alike for me to let her go without a fight, as I told you Rogers, and I'm prepared to do anything and everything to get her."

"I'm not something to have," Nat says, rising from her seat to stand over towards him. He simply smiles up at her, his expression softening in a way Steve never noticed before, staring up at the furious woman above him. "I'm not an object that can be bought with your pretty words, Loki. I thought you'd have realized that by now."

"And yet they worked to get you back into my bed evening after evening," Loki murmurs, reaching up to touch her cheek. She slaps his hand away with a hiss. Her fists clench and Steve can tell she's running over the many different ways she'd fillet the man in front of her alive, but Loki's words have a different effect on Steve.

"So it's not that Nat would often go to you, you'd beg her to come back, right?" He clarifies. Loki rolls his eyes.

"Beg is perhaps-."

"The best word to put it," Natasha cuts in. "There's nothing else to call it, Loki. You say we're similar, that we're too much alike to be apart? I'd rather be alone for the rest of my life than be with someone like you. You're terrible, cruel, and you're not what I need in my life. I've had enough of that."

"Yet you kept coming back."

"I'm stronger now."

"Because you're in front of your other ex lover? I don't think so, Natasha," Loki says quietly enough to make her name sound like a caress. It makes her shiver and Steve gives a low growl. He doesn't like where this is going, but just as he's about to say something Natasha's hand reaches out to Loki's shoulder and her second one ends up punching him in the gut hard enough he loses his breath. Natasha doesn't even wince, pulling him instead by the chin until he's so close they're sharing breath.

"Leave me alone, Loki. I don't want you anymore, and if you keep this up I'll find a way to make sure your father hears about how you keep harassing me. You may not respect me enough to listen to what I'm saying, which just proves that you're nowhere in my league, but you will listen to him."

The god stiffens beneath her, his eyes widening for a moment before growing cold. He scowls and pulls away, standing up to shove past her on his way to the door.

"I'm not done asking questions," Steve interjects.

"Fuck off, Rogers," Loki shouts, turning on the man now. "You want to know what happened? Natasha and I fucked. So what. She loved me at one point and though she claims to love you she doesn't know what it is. She's broken, damaged goods. You want to try and put that together? Be my guest. The lady is yours-She doesn't want me, and I want nothing more to do with either of you, so kindly fuck. Off."

There's not much else to say to that, both of the Shield agents quiet as he storms through the doors and slams them behind him. Steve looks over at Natasha, but it's her that can't bring herself to look at him.

"I told you," she murmurs before she steps past him and silently out the door. He's about to reach out to her when she pulls away from his grasp and disappears.

He doesn't find her for a few more days, having taken the time to go over the information presented. Natasha seems to feel remorse for what she's done, and while at least that's a step in the right direction he's not sure he can overlook that. But a second chance . . . he's gotten one before, and Natasha has proven that with one she's able to come back and make herself better for it. Perhaps she's deserving of one. But it's a leap of faith he's not quite sure he's ready to make just yet. When he does come to see her she's reading, alone, in her room, looking up to smile up at him when Jarvis allows him to enter.

"Steve. Hi." She marks her place and stands up, smoothing her hands over her pants, as though she's nervous. Steve's nervous, though he hates to admit to it. "What can I do for you?" She asks.

"Do you have a minute so we can talk?"

"Sure." She offers him a seat with a smile and puts her book down so that he has her full attention. As if that helps at all.

He waits a moment to figure out what he's about to say, unsure just how he wants to word it. "I'm sorry I haven't been around as much, or been as . . . well, been what you needed me to be. It's not been easy for both of us it seems, and I wish I would have instilled more confidence that you could have spoken to me about the problems you thought we had." She opens her mouth to speak but he cuts her off. He needs to get this out there. "But in my time, when I grew up, you don't throw something out just because it's broken. You fix it. I want to try and give this another shot, and it's going to be tough but I think, if you want to, we can try it. Again." He swallows hard. It's the right choice, and if he thinks about it hard enough it's the only choice. "I can't trust you just yet Natasha, but I think you can earn my trust, and I hope to earn your confidence if you're willing to work with me on this. I want to start over, Nat, give this another, honest shot."

He looks up then, having been staring at his twisting hands on his lap, and is started to once again find her eyes with tears in them. Did he say something wrong? Without a word she stands up and moves in front of him, bending down to press her lips to his. It's soft, sweet, and tears at his heart with the familiarity of it all.

"Please, Steve. That's all I want and I swear I'll do whatever I have to to make it up to you. I'm so sorry, so sorry for what I've put you through."

He manages a small smile and nods. It's not going to be easy and they both know it, but she slips her hand into his and gives it a soft squeeze as though reading his mind and reassuring him that they can do this. Together, they can work it out and get through it. He holds the side of her face as she pulls away and smiles a little at her.

"Miss. Romanov? It's nice to meet you, I'm Steve Rogers," he only half teases, taking her hand and pressing his lips to the back of it. It's enough to make her grin and blink rapidly to keep the tears away.

"Oh Steve, you're going to need something a lot more suave than that," she winks. "I'm not about to be wooed by some cute words and a big grin, not again."

"Well, what do you say to a date, then? Five o'clock tomorrow, dinner and dancing?"

"Sounds perfect."

He leans in to kiss her quickly but she shakes her head and pulls away with a laugh. "Uh-uh. No kissing till after the first date, soldier. We're gonna do this right because you deserve it," she sobers up for a moment, expression serious as she looks down at him. "I promise I won't mess this up."

"Clean slate," he says as he stands up beside her. "I'll only bring it up when I'm drunk," he promises. They both laugh at that, and his hold on her hand gets a little tighter. It's a start.

A/N:

Well, it's finally done! Thanks so much for sticking around through this crazy feel-filled ride, and I hope you enjoyed it! One day I might to an alt ending to this, because not only did it turn out a lot more fluffy than intended but I'd kind of like to explore a second ending and how it'd impact everything else.

Thanks so much for all the support everyone, it's been awesome! 3