Just a Blast from the Past

Chapter Two

The next morning, Natasha woke up in a lighter mood than the one she had been carrying like a burden for the past two weeks. She smiled at the prospect of this hopeful day.

She spent her morning reading through old reports and memorizing all the data that could be useful to know in 1942. Her carnivorous brain devoured every piece of information like it had been trained to since her early age. She learned every bit of detail about where, when and how Hydra was taken down by Steve. She assimilated everything that needed to be known about Barnes' life and the circumstances of his death. She now knew him more than Steve did; much more when you consider she was aware of his future.

After several hours, she headed to the bathroom and dyed her hair blond. Thor, Stark and Banner had been very clear: she was not to leave any physical evidence of her existence in the 1940s.

'You don't exist. You're just a ghost,' Stark had said. This was easy. She had spent most of her life being one. She would only leave behind a myth to resonate in people's heads like the scariest dream. The assassin. The Black Widow.

'You're nothing more than a chimera,' Bruce had chimed in. She had liked this comparison. There was a poetic and beautiful connotation to it; she liked the prospect of becoming a benevolent force that would inspire trust and hope. She relished the idea of wearing a coat she had never been offered a chance to put on before. She enjoyed the thought of being given a whole new ledger to write into; an immaculate one she would make sure to never stain.

Natasha was not particularly fond of this hair color but she had to maximize her chances to blend in then sneak out of Steve's life without him ever keeping a vivid memory of this blond woman he briefly met in 1942. Plus, she knew for a fact that he was more into brunettes which would make even less noticeable. Changing appearance was the key to succeed in her undercover mission and keep a low profile. Steve would have soon forgotten about her after she had gone.

She washed her hair in the washstand and looked at herself in the mirror. She had worn blond wigs before for numerous missions but she was amazed by how this shade of blond gave her complexion a slight but noticeable variation. Her brighter skin enhanced the green of her eyes and made them more prominent than they usually were with her red hair.

She wore a vintage cocktail dress that Stark had delivered urgently over the night. A piece of clothing that wouldn't draw the attention on her when she would arrive in the past — well, if she arrived. This was a matter she refused to look into, and even less address.

Natasha made her out of her apartment to the common room where everyone was waiting.

Fury had come out for the occasion and was conversing with Thor and Stark.

They all froze at the sight of her baffling makeover when she walked in the room. There was no denying the situation was getting real and that there was no coming back.

'Are you sure about this, Romanoff?' Fury asked as he walked up to her.

'Am I sure I want to bring Captain Rogers back, sir?' She stood firm and square.

He eyed her with an assertive look.

'Captain Rogers...or Steve?' he said to her in a lower voice. He tried to catch a responsive twitch from her then stepped away just as quickly.

This was another matter she refused to look into or address. Steve, Captain America; every persona of him was needed back into this world.

After setting up the last arrangements and going through the details of the mission one last time, the awaited moment to put the plan into motion arrived.

The Avengers all made their way to a quiet area of Central Park. Thor had made it clear she had to depart from a location that would exist in the past already. She couldn't do it in the Stark tower and take the risk to land under asphalt concrete, or through a wall. She would be traveling through time but not through space which was why it was vital to ensure she would land safe and sound in a place that wouldn't have been altered whatsoever. Central Park popped up as the most evident choice.