Below Zero
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Rating: Mature
Tags: Angst, Eventual Fluff, Car Crash, Deep Water, Implied Hypothermia, Head Injury, Blood, Hospitals, Crying
Word Count: Around 1000
Written For: @badthingshappenbingo @fandom-free-bingo @julybreakbingo @whumpmasinjuly-archive
Squares/Prompts Filled: G5 - Huddled Together For Warmth for BTHB | Card B: O5- Iced-Over Road for Fandom Free Bingo: Virtues and Vices Edition | I1 - Location: Hospital for July Break Bingo | Whumpmas In July Day 24 - Frozen
Dividers By: @/saradika-graphics
The tires hummed low over the snowy pavement, the wipers dragging thick, icy slush across the windshield. It was silent in the car, the tension thick.
You sat beside her, still trembling slightly from the mission. It hadn’t gone clean. You’d had to make a call in the field, and the weight of it was still lodged in your chest like a stone.
Natasha gripped the steering wheel more tightly than she needed to. Her jaw was tense, her eyes locked on the road ahead, but you could tell she was stuck in her head too.
“I’m sorry,” you finally whispered.
Natasha didn’t look at you. “Don’t.”
“I froze up. Back at the outpost. If you hadn’t-”
“I said don’t,” she snapped.
You recoiled slightly. The guilt burned hotter than the heater’s weak fan. She must’ve felt it in your silence, because after a beat, she added more quietly, “You did fine. You’re alive. That’s all I care about.”
You turned to look out the window, watching the snow fall harder. “That’s not true.”
She didn’t answer, just continued to drive both of you back to basecamp.
The turn came too fast.
Neither of you saw the black ice.
The back wheels spun out. Natasha swore and yanked the wheel, but the SUV fishtailed. The headlights caught a sliver of the guardrail, and then there was no road at all.
“Y/N!” she screamed.
The car plummeted.
Everything shattered.
The sight of the frozen lake below was the last thing you saw. You didn't remember the impact as the lake swallowed you whole. Just silence as the frigid water began to pour in.
Natasha’s vision blurred as she clawed toward consciousness, her lungs burning. The cabin was filling fast. The car was sinking. Cold water surged over her thighs, her waist, her chest, every instinct screamed move, but her first breathless thought was you.
She turned and saw your body slumped against the window, eyes closed, blood trailing from a nasty-looking gash on your forehead..
“No-”
Her breath punched out of her as she scrambled over the console. Your seatbelt jammed. She ripped off her glove with her teeth and shoved her hand between the buckle and your body, scraping her knuckles raw to force it free.
Your head lolled forward like a rag doll.
You weren’t moving.
“Y/N, wake up!” she choked, her voice cracking. “Come on, baby, come on…”
She shoved open the door with her shoulder, ice water flooding in, and pulled you out with her, holding your body to her chest. Her fingers went numb before she even broke the surface, the weight of you dragging her down, her muscles aching.
But she didn’t let go.
She never would.
You coughed weakly as she collapsed on the snowy bank with you in her arms. Natasha sobbed, not from pain, but from relief and terror colliding in her throat.
You barely stirred.
She ripped off your wet clothes, pulled off her own jacket, wrapped you against her bare skin despite the chill that gnawed at her bones. You were freezing. You were so still.
She pressed her forehead to yours. “Don’t you do this to me. Don’t you dare.”
Her hands shook so badly she nearly dropped her comms. Static hissed.
“This is Romanoff-”
“Natasha?” Steve’s voice.
“We’re off route. Off the bridge by the 109. Car’s submerged. Y/N’s hurt. I need medical evac now!”
“What’s your condition?”
“I don’t give a damn about me!” she snapped. “Just get here!”
She held you for what felt like hours. Her lips were blue, her skin ice, but her arms never loosened.
You whimpered once. Then stilled again.
She stared down at you like she could will you to live. “I can’t do this if you’re not here. Do you understand me?” Her voice cracked. “I already have blood on my hands...I refuse to have yours.”
When the quinjet finally landed in the distance, she didn’t move. She just held you tighter, afraid you’d slip away if she let go.
It took three people to pry you from her arms.
The world came back slowly...in bits and pieces. Rhythmic beeping, light too bright for your aching eyes, and the heaviness in your limbs, like they didn’t belong to you.
You blinked once. Twice.
Your throat burned, and your skin felt too warm, feverish, but you were dry. Hospital monitors lined the wall to your left, and the sterile smell of antiseptic clung to the air like fog.
You tried to speak, but only a croak came out. Your lips were cracked. You swallowed and blinked groggily toward the corner chair.
Empty.
A soft panic gripped you.
Where was she?
Before the thought could spiral, the door creaked open.
Natasha stepped in, still dressed in borrowed clothes, too-big gray sweatpants, and a dark SHIELD hoodie with sleeves shoved halfway up her arms. Her damp hair was pulled back messily, and her eyes were red-rimmed from exhaustion, not that she’d ever admit it.
She stopped in her tracks the second she saw you awake, her hand still on the doorframe.
“…Hey.”
Your lips lifted, barely. “Hey.”
Her breath hitched. She shut the door behind her and walked in slowly, like she didn’t quite trust what she was seeing.
“I was gone for five minutes,” she murmured, trying for a smile. “Steve practically dragged me to the cafeteria.”
You blinked at her. “He dragged you?”
“Yeah. Said I needed to eat.” She shrugged, but her voice was quieter now. “Guess I forgot.”
She sat at your bedside, brushing her fingers down your arm like she was grounding herself, making sure you were there.
Neither of you spoke for a beat.
Then, so quietly it nearly didn’t reach your ears, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
You turned to her, frowning. “For what?”
“For yelling at you in the car. For freezing when I saw you underwater. For not keeping us on the damn road in the first place.” Her voice cracked despite her effort to control it. “For being so scared that I couldn’t think straight.”
Your heart clenched.
“You still saved me,” you whispered.
Her jaw flexed. Her eyes glistened.
“I almost didn’t,” she admitted. “You were blue. Limp. And I kept thinking...God, if I lost you…” Her words trailed off, her throat tightening.
You reached out and laced your fingers through hers, squeezing. “But I’m here.”
She let out a breath like she’d been holding it since the crash. She leaned forward and rested her forehead gently against yours.
“I thought I was strong enough to be okay if I ever lost someone again,” she whispered. “But the second I thought I’d lost you, I realized I’m not.”
You smiled, weak but honest. “I don’t plan on going anywhere, Romanoff.”
She let out a small, shaky laugh. “Good. Because I’m selfish, and I’m keeping you.”
You lifted a brow. “Even if I whine when you steal the covers?”
“Especially then.”
She leaned down and brushed a feather-light kiss to your temple, her nose lingering there, like she still couldn’t quite believe you were warm under her lips instead of cold and still.
“I love you, you know,” she added softly.
Your fingers tightened around hers. “I love you, too.”
