#nat teaching Sally how to fight

[dark-elf-writes]

As much as I love Paul you know who would be a hilarious stepdad for Percy?

Clint Barton, son of Apollo. Like

Percy gets more crazy relatives in the avengers

Sally would get the adoration she deserves and a terrifying new friend/pseudo sister in law in Nat

Clint is a family man at heart and deserves a milf tbh

Apollo would be unbearable. Particularly if they start dating between sea of monsters and titans curse. He would roll up with the bus like “Baby sis and my Grandson!”

The Apollo cabin arguing that Percy is now an honorary member and doesn’t have to eat meals alone and no one can really argue that because Apollo is willing to back them up.

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Cover You in Oil, Pt25

Word Count: 2713 Tags: @outside-the-government, @yourtropegirl @to-pick-ourselves-up-7, @ghostssss, @rampant-salamander, @saysay125, @sistasarah-sallysaidso @shewhorunswithfandoms, @flirtswithdanger @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @anyakinamidala

Tony stayed true to his resolve, and did not allow Sally any quarter in the shower. It was wash, rinse and towel dry. Much to Sally's disappointment, each time she continued to try to instigate anything, he would swat her hands and wink, promising later. He toured her through the facility on the way to dinner. It was beautifully laid out, and Sally realized quickly that she could easily have just followed her nose to the food, had she needed to.

And then Natasha's arms were around her. And Clint's. And then Steve. And the tears that had been threatening to overtake her since she'd wakened flooded out, accompanied by great wracking sobs.

"Shh, сестра. Вам больше не нужно быть храбрым," Natasha murmured and rubbed Sally's back.

"Bucky didn't have enough time to teach me Russian," Sally laughed. It was hesitant, but enough to bring her back to herself.

"She said you don't need to be brave anymore," Clint translated, pulling back from the hug. "She forgets she's pretty much the only person in the universe who speaks Russian."

"There's a quarter of a billion people who speak Russian, dumbass," Natasha shot.

"Ah, now I feel like I'm home," Sally laughed, wiping away the last of her tears as the awkward embrace broke apart. Tony slid his arm around her waist and directed her to a chair at the bar. Natasha pushed a plate toward her and sat down beside her.

"Helen says you have a nice polite new mark on your thigh," she opened. Sally laughed.

"So much nicer," she admitted. "Don't tell Tony, but I might miss the old one."

Tony laughed from the other side of the kitchen, where he was rummaging around in the fridge for beers for everyone.

"I gotta say, I'm a little jealous you get to have two," Natasha replied.

"Don't you have one?" Sally asked. "That's terribly uncommon."

"I have one." Natasha nodded grimly. "I'm pretty sure I'll never meet him."

"Why is that?" Sally asked, her brow furrowing in question. Natasha took the bite off her fork and put it on her place, then leaned to the side a little and pulled up her shirt. Just under her bra line, across her ribs in Cyrillic letters was a long splash of words, in neat block letters. Almost like it had been typed, and not written. Sally tilted her head to assess them. "Jesus, those letters are more perfect than my printer makes."

"My theory has always been that they look that way because whoever said them wasn't able to write Russian," Natasha nodded. Tony pushed a couple of bottles of beer across the counter at them as they spoke.

"So why do you figure you'll never meet your soulmate?" Sally asked, taking another bite of what was arguably the best Thai she'd ever eaten outside of Thailand.

"I figure I killed him," she replied, bluntly. Sally choked on her noodles and took a quick swig from the beer in front of her. Natasha laughed and thumped her on the back.

"What does it say?" Sally pressed, once she caught her breath.

"пришел маленький паук, солнце выходит. Ярость будет дождь ад на меня за это. Roughly, it says, come along little spider, the sun is coming out. And rage will come upon me for it. Doesn't make a lot of sense, really," Natasha shrugged. "Another reason to assume the fates aren't really awesome at translating."

It was Clint's turn to choke. "What did you just say?" He stepped over to them and pushed Natasha's shirt back up, running his fingers across the mark.

"You know what my mark says, Clint. You've seen it a million times," Natasha pushed his hand away.

"And you know I don't read Russian. I only speak it because you taught it to me," he snapped.

"I'm sure I've told you what it says," Natasha's face was a mask of confusion.

"Just humour me and say it in English again." Clint was so earnest that Sally turned in her chair, riveted by the interaction. Tony stopped puttering in the kitchen and leaned against the counter, watching the exchange avidly.

"Come along little spider, the sun is coming out," Natasha started. Clint nodded, the colour washing out of his skin. "And rage will come upon me for it."

"You said rage, but when you said the Russian, you said yarost," Clint clarified. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Yarost, rage, wrath, anger, fury –"

"Fury." Clint interrupted, blanching completely. "Jesus Christ, Nat."

"So?" Natasha squinted at him.

"How many fucking years have we known each other?" Clint demanded. Natasha shook her head.

"Clearly too many. You know how long." Natasha was clenching her jaw, and starting to look nervous.

"Yeah, I'll never forget the events of that day," Clint sighed. He exposed Natasha's soulmark again. "Come little spider, the sun is coming out. And Fury is going to rain hell down on me for this." He tapped his finger along the words on the mark as he spoke, and the colour drained from Natasha's face as well. Natasha's hand moved to Clint's jeans and exposed his mark.

"Когда-нибуд�� кто-то шлепнуть тебя за это," Natasha breathed. "I don't fucking believe it."

"Shut the fuck up," Tony crowed. "I knew it! I knew there was something going on there!"

"Wait." Steve held his hand up. "How did you not figure this out over, what, the last ten years?"

"Nat was unconscious when I first spoke to her," Clint offered, looking at her in awe.

"And he spoke no Russian when I spat those words at him from where he'd tied me up in that chair." Natasha slapped her hand to her forehead.

"Unbelievable," Sally couldn't believe what she'd just witnessed. And then smiled. "I told you whoever you wound up with would be amazing, Clint. Be honest. You never once considered Nat?"

Clint just shook his head. "Nat's my best friend, but I always just assumed that's all she ever could be. This, this makes sense."

Natasha was shaken, and Sally guessed she was probably more shaken than she'd ever been. The calm veneer was cracked and her knuckles were white around her beer bottle. Clint, on the other hand, slowly began to smile, and pretty soon the joy radiating off of him was enough that he nervously laughed and wrapped his arms around Natasha. She relaxed into his embrace and Sally let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. Natasha arms snaked around Clint and her shoulders shook. At first, it looked like laughter, but it soon became apparent that she was sobbing.

"Come on," Clint whispered against her hair. "Let's go sit down in my room. Might be nice to keep the transition from besties to love of my life private."

Tony opened his mouth to say something, and Sally shot him a look that silenced him. Natasha allowed Clint to lead her from the kitchen. Sally's gaze followed them and then tracked around the room looking for Tony. Her brow furrowed and she turned to Steve. "Where's Bucky?"

"Working out some aggression," Steve replied. "He's been at the heavy bag for the past couple hours. I told him dinner was ready, but he just waved me off."

"Stark, I need to talk to you." Bucky announced his presence by walking toward Tony. Tony offered him a beer in response, but Bucky shook his head.

"Should we go somewhere else?" Sally asked, gesturing to herself and Steve.

"I'd appreciate you and Stevie staying, Sal. If you don't mind," Bucky requested. Sally nodded, and focused her attention on the two men. Tony pulled up a seat beside her, and Bucky sat down across from them.

"So what's up, Frosty?" Tony quipped. Bucky flinched.

"It's about that," Bucky started. "Steve told me you've read all the information he has about the Winter Soldier. About me."

"You aren't the Winter Soldier, Barnes." Tony cut him off. "You were brainwashed and used as a weapon. You couldn't possibly know what you were doing."

"That's the problem, Stark, I did know. I couldn't stop myself. God knows, I tried. I even managed to escape them once, but they tracked me down and started more aggressively wiping me. I remember every assignment. And I tried to fight it." Bucky paused, obviously distressed. He sighed heavily and looked down. The air in the room was thick with tension. Sally slipped her hand into Tony's just as Steve placed a reassuring hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"Buck, you don't have to do this right now," Steve suggested. Bucky sat up, rigid.

"Yeah, I fucking do, Stevie. It ain't right for me to pretend I don't know who Tony is." Bucky's tone was determined. Tony tensed up beside Sally. "Tony, your parents –"

"Don't fucking speak," Tony cut him off, his voice ice. "Don't you dare fucking sit in my kitchen and tell me you're responsible."

"There's no apology that will ever be enough," Bucky sighed. "I understand if you want me to leave."

"No, Buck –" Steve began. Tony cut him off with a look. Sally cringed and looked down at her plate, unsure if she should try to play peacemaker.

"I do want you to leave." There was a disturbing lack of emotion in Tony's voice. Sally shot Steve and Bucky a pleading look as Tony turned and left the kitchen.

"Make sure I have some way to contact you," she whispered as she brushed past Bucky to follow Tony. She ran down the hall until she caught up with Tony, and laid a hand on his arm.

"Tony –"

"Don't, Sally." He cut her off, stopping to face her. "Don't try to excuse him."

"That wasn't my plan." She shook her head. He squinted, and then rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"No?"

"No," Sally confirmed. "I followed you because you are my person. And I have a vested interest in your continued well-being." She pulled him into her arms awkwardly. Tony was stiff and unresponsive. She waited, and felt the moment he broke, a deep breath filling him, and his muscles going limp against her. He buried his nose in her hair, silent sobs shaking his shoulders. Sally laced her fingers in his and led him down to their shared room. She pulled him down into her arms on the couch, and let him let it out. It didn't take long. He rubbed the balls of his hands against his eyes and shook his head.

"Tony Stark, ladies and gentlemen. Paragon of mental health and stability," he grumbled self-deprecatingly. "And you're stuck with me, princess."

"I've already told you, I'm a queen," Sally teased. "And there's not another man on this planet I'd rather have reigning beside me."

"All this from the girl who six months ago was actively trying to avoid speaking to me," he laughed, and then sobered. "I never thought I'd come face to face with my parent's murderer. Who'd've thought Bucky Barnes?"

"Tony, Bucky didn't kill your parents any more than you killed those Afghani villagers," Sally pointed out, her voice gentle. "Bucky was weaponized against his will. And just like you, once he knew what he was responsible for, he fought to change himself."

"I can't have you take his side, babe," Tony growled. Sally sighed, and closed her eyes.

"It's not about taking sides," she protested.

"He fucking killed my parents!" Tony yelled.

"And he saved my fucking life!" Sally countered. "Tony, for Christ's sake, think about it. He did not have to do a single fucking thing for me. But he did. Do you think he did it because I'm a pretty American girl who reminded him of home? I highly fucking doubt that. He knew about us. He knew my plan was to restore the car and head home to marry you. I haven't asked him, but I bet if you did, you'd discover that he stuck around to ensure my safety. Because I'm yours. And he wasn't going to fail you a second time."

"You give people too much credit for goodness. And none of us are as good as you think," Tony argued. "He owes me nothing, Sally. So why would he protect you?"

"If not because he felt he did owe you because of your parents, why not because he knows Steve is your best friend, and he felt he owed Steve?" Sally shrugged.

"You're reaching now," Tony snorted.

"Maybe I am. Maybe you need to give yourself some more goddamn credit. Tony, Bucky remembers every single thing he did while he was a weapon. Can you imagine how devastating it would be to you to know the face of every person a Stark Industries weapon killed? And yet, when confronted with an opportunity to make some small reparation for the harm he did, he took the opportunity. And he made sure I lived. And he made sure I got home to you. You can say I am a self-rescuing princess all you like, but I know without Bucky, I would still be stuck trying to figure my way out of Latveria."

"So I should just forget that he murdered my parents, and thank him for helping you, and everything will be better?" The words were so bitter that tears sprang to Sally's eyes.

"No, Tony. Not at all." Sally's voice cracked. "I don't expect you to forgive and forget without a second thought."

"Then what?"

"Just try to remember that he was a machine. And he fought to free himself of that control. He was a good man once. And he will be a good man again," Sally implored. "But you both need time."

"Steve knew, didn't he?" Tony asked. Sally wasn't sure if it was directed at her or not.

"You'd have to ask Steve," Sally replied. "Even if he did, how was he supposed to bring that suspicion up to you?"

"He should have told –"

Sally stood up straight, and placed her hands on her hips, thrusting her jaw square. "So, uh, Tony. I need to tell you something. As you know, from my long and inexplicably dull briefing about the incident, not only is the Winter Soldier real, but he's my childhood best friend, Bucky Barnes, who was presumed dead after falling off a train. I've got no real evidence, but the death of your parents seems to follow a pattern of murders that were made to look like accidents, and Zola strongly implied your father was murdered because he knew something or was somehow impeding the spread of Hydra. It seems reasonable to me that we should assume that it was, in fact, Bucky who killed your parents. By the way, I'm going to continue looking for him to rescue him from Hydra." She lowered her voice and tried to mimic some of Steve's mannerisms as she spoke. Tony smiled sadly and shook his head.

"I'll try to see it your way," Tony sighed. "But I'm not making any promises."

"And remember that I love you." Sally pulled him back into her arms and sighed. Tony squeezed her and sighed, relaxing into her embrace. His breath hitched and he squeezed again.

"You know, when I think about how close –"

"Don't, Tony," Sally chastised. "Don't do it. I'm here."

"Will I ever figure out what I did to deserve you?" He murmured against her hair.

"Are you sure that it's not me that needed saving?" She countered.

"You're perfect," he argued. Sally snorted indelicately.

"You're blind," she laughed. "I'm about as perfect as you are." Tony shook his head and pushed her shirt off her shoulder.

"This freckle is perfect. Placement, size, colour." He brushed his lips against it. "And the way your collarbone curves. Like Michelangelo carved it." His lips followed the contour of the bone as his hand flicked the buttons open down the front of her shirt. His fingers dragged against the swell of her cleavage, bringing goosebumps up against her skin.

"Don't you dare say those are perfect. They're a bit on the small side," Sally wriggled out of his grasp.

"I think it's time I showed you exactly how perfect I think you are," Tony rose from the couch, and led her toward the bedroom.