What about soft Nat? The Nat who hums softly as she’s making her morning coffee. The Nat who has a favourite sweatshirt but won’t admit it. The Nat who can’t even hide her smile when you emerge from sleep wearing it. The Nat who’s favourite thing to do is hold you by the waist under said sweatshirt, feeling your warm skin beneath her palm as she pulls you close.
The Nat that values slow mornings over anything else in life.
What if one of his rooms has Natasha as a child and him as the Winter Soldier brutally training her? It’s known that he was in the Red Room and training the poor babies…. Even more cannon that he trained Natasha…
I was just thinking of how much older they made Yelena look until I looked at the time and realized 9 years pass between Black Widow and Thunderbolts!!!
Babygirl but she's a 450 year old divination witch covered in dirt discussing her lifetime affliction with random flashes of vivid clairvoyance with a friend
Summary: The flu is going around, and Natasha's girlfriend and sister both get it.
Word Count: 1,059
Warnings: None, just fluff.
A/N: Reader and Nat are in an established relationship.
There's a horrible flu going around the entire city, and Tony has brought it to the compound. Or maybe one of the staff or agents, but still: you like to blame Tony. It helps keep him humble (as humble as that man can be, anyway).
Bruce is the first one to get ill and he keeps trying to sneak into the lab and work, while Tony keeps having to escort him out and back to his room to rest. The big cry baby puts on his whole suit and helmet saying that it ‘keeps out the germs, you know!’ and maybe he was right about that…
Sam is ill too; the poor guy moves into the compound permanently and gets the flu two days later. You had immediately begun making them both soup, even as you laughed at their misfortune with Yelena. In fact, the two of you had made so many jokes, and laughed for so long, that your stomachs hurt. And didn't stop hurting. And now you’re both in bed, day four of feeling quite horrible, and you don’t even have the energy to yell at Stark. You comfort yourself by planning mean things to do to him when you’re feeling better. It works, a bit.
Steve and Bucky, their immune systems far superior thanks to the super soldier serum, are taking care of Sam, rounding up Bruce, and helping Natasha with you and Yelena. Because your girlfriend is feeling perfectly fine, still. Even when her girlfriend and her sister and several friends have gotten ill. It’s not fair.
She enters your bedroom and you throw a pillow at her which she neatly sidesteps. Yelena, next to you in bed, laughs until she heaves and you laugh even as you start to tear up, emotions all over the place while you're sick. Natasha looks… tired and fond as she ambles over to the two of you, pressing a glass of water into Yelena’s hand and encouraging small sips, and then walking over and placing a light kiss on your head.
“I don’t feel well,” you pout as you look up at her, nonsensically hoping she can fix it.
“We don’t feel well,” says Yelena, mirroring your pout.
“Go get Tony, and beat him up in front of us,” you continue, “that’ll help.” And Yelena is nodding, carefully, next to you.
“I’m not going to do that, he’s having enough trouble dealing with Banner and Sam. I don’t know which one is more annoying while they're sick,” Natasha muses, handing a thermometer to each of you as she speaks.
You roll your eyes at her and Yelena chooses to flip her off, though both of you dutifully place the thermometers in your mouths. You’ve both learned. The first time it was handed to you and you shook your head, the stern look in Natasha’s eyes had been enough to convince you. Unfortunately, Yelena had been more difficult and fought so much that she had thrown up while backing away from Natasha, dizziness overtaking her. That had set you off and you were sure you had almost witnessed a murder. Still, neither one of you had gone against Natasha since.
The thermometers both beep and Natasha takes them, a relieved look passing over her face as she says that “both your temperatures are normal again. You’ll be better in no time.”
That said, she still presses more of the foul tasting medicine into both of your hands, watching as you both take it, wincing at the aftertaste. You glare at her and it sounds like Yelena has said something unkind in Russian, which even though you can’t understand, you agree with on a spiritual level.
“It's still too cold in here,” Yelena complains, and you're shaking your head at her, relieved when you don’t become dizzy (maybe you really are getting better). Strangely, you always prefer a colder room than the tough Russian spy, even when you’re both healthy.
“Too warm.”
“C’mon Lena,” says Natasha, before it can turn into a serious disagreement, “you can go back to your room and rest. I turned up the heat for you already.” And Yelena perks up at that, enough that she lets her sister help her up and escort her to her bedroom.
You stay in bed and ask FRIDAY to turn down the temperature a bit more, now that Yelena's gone.
“Unfortunately Miss Romanoff has asked me to ensure it does not get any colder than the present temperature, as it won’t be helpful to get too cold while you’re still ill.”
You curse and glare daggers at Natasha as she walks back in. She smiles at you, eyes brighter now that you and her sister are both doing better, and you love her so much in that instant that you forget to breathe for a second. It must show on your face since she smiles even wider, and gets into bed with you, tucking you into her arms. You grumble a bit for show, even as you nestle in closer to her chest, listening to her heartbeat and her steady breathing.
You’re drowsy from the medicine, eyes fluttering while she talks to you about this and that, knowing that you like hearing her voice. And it's at this point, when you’re drifting in and out that you hear her say the word vacation, and you try to pull yourself away from the edge of sleep.
It works long enough for you to tune in to her for a second, “…a nice beach or something, just the two of us, and I’m pretty sure Tony owns his own island. Or maybe we should visit Paris or Rome, or both, because…”
You lose the battle against sleep, but you aren’t that upset since your dreams are now filled with scenes of Natasha: laughing on a beach, sun on her exposed skin and mischief in her eyes, the two of you walking along the Seine at night, and eating Italian gelato together on cobblestoned streets.
Thoughts of a vacation, however, are put on hold when, two days later, Natasha wakes up with a fever.
(You gladly pamper her and repay her for taking such good care of you while you were sick.)
(Yelena ‘helps’ by gleefully giving Natasha the disgusting medicine and taking her temperature more than you really think is necessary.)
Summary: Natasha's sudden and tragic ending left behind many mourning loved ones, including her wife. Yelena tracked down Clint, and now she's going to meet her sister's wife, only without her sister there to help out. Grief is a process for friends and family, especially when it ends suddenly...
Word Count: 2,624 and 2,328 = 4,952
Warnings: Grief, mentions of death/dying, weight issues, memory issues, etc.
A/N: I wrote this bc this is what happened, and that's only if you believe Thanos was real and not an anxiety induced dream sequence...
Masterlist (coming soon)
~~
Steve keeps Clint up to date about your visits with Yelena, how you look and how you act when she’s there. He’s pleased to hear that the two of you are helping to heal each other, though he’s still concerned over your health, mental and physical.
After he met Yelena, after Christmas and New Years and things returning to normal, Clint reflected on everything. He thinks about Natasha and her sacrifice, of course he does, he’s been thinking about it non-stop since it happened. Thinking about the look in your eyes and on your face when he came back alone and as you had talked to him at her grave. Still, he thinks and thinks during the next few months, his conversations with Steve reminding him of the love and longing that follows his best friend beyond the grave, that haunts his days and nights.
He goes to visit Natasha’s grave again, stands there and thinks about how it’s empty, how she died thousands of miles from home, from anything familiar, from the people she fought and died to save. He remembers the way she told him to let go, knowing that he had children to return to, and while she had you, she couldn't do that to his family. He keeps brooding over her sacrifice until Laura finally makes him talk to her, and her suggestion after four nights in a row of talking things through for hours makes him feel like an idiot for not thinking of it himself.
“Why don’t you just ask the Wizard Guy, Strange, right? Ask him to open up a portal and take her and bury her here? Would that be any better? Maybe?” Laura misses Natasha as well, and cannot explain how grateful and devastated she is about her sacrifice. She knows it was for her and the kids, and feels so guilty and so thankful all at once.
Clint stares at his wife for a few moments and then calls her a genius, running to find his phone. She makes him text Steve first, to talk through his plan, and after he sits for a minute, he thinks it’s a good idea, and agrees to wait and talk not only to Steve but also Sam and Bucky. Still, he falls asleep much easier that night, finally feeling as though he’s finally doing the right thing for his deceased best friend.
Once the three of them have talked, Clint calls Stephen Strange and asks to see him, wanting to make this request in person. He knows it's a big request, but he’s also ready to go toe to toe with this sorcerer in order to get his best friend's body back to earth. In order to give you a sense of closure and maybe get you back to earth as well.
~~
They arrange to meet in the city at some nondescript coffee shop; Clint is wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap, trying to remain unnoticed. He thinks wistfully of the days before every man, woman, and child in the world knew who he was and what he looked like. He thinks of past covert missions. He thinks of Budapest. He clears his throat and sips at his terrible coffee.
When Strange shows up, Clint straightens in his seat and waits for him to sit down.
“Well?” And holy shit, Clint remembers why he doesn’t particularly like this man, his arrogance overpowering with just a single word. He reminds himself that he needs a favor from this guy, and calms himself down enough to behave politely.
“I need help, I need a big favor.” Strange just sits there and waits. “I want to go to Vormir, where Natasha—where she—anyway… I want to collect her body and bring it home so we can bury her. Please, I know this is a lot to ask, but her wife is a wreck, and her sister is heartbroken, and I thought it would be nice for them to know, at least, that her body is here, so they can visit her.” He stops, takes a breath to keep going, desperate to persuade him to help, but he’s interrupted by Strange.
“I can try.” He says, and Clint feels a weight lift off his chest. “It’ll take some time to find the right incantation, and I’m not sure that her body will still be there. Sometimes when magic is involved, things get–they don’t work the way you’d think.”
Clint is nodding now, “I understand, I won’t be angry if it doesn’t work, I just have to try.” He also thinks that nothing can be expected now, with aliens and magic and a best friend shaped hole in his life. Still, he keeps going for Natasha and his family and you.
“Fine,” Stephen stands up, “I’ll contact you when I’m ready.”
“Thank you.” And Clint shakes his hand and watches him leave, thinking that after Tony Stark, he shouldn’t be surprised by the depth of human kindness within everyone, even the people you want to punch in the face sometimes.
~~
It’s another month and a half of angst-filled pacing before he finally gets the call that Stephen will be ready in two days, giving him time to prepare. He tells Laura everything, and tells the kids that he’s going into the city to see you and Steve, consoling himself with the fact that it’s not a complete lie, and then packs a bag.
The two of them meet at the compound, sit with Steve for a few minutes, and then they go outside to a private area so he can begin. Clint watches with interest as Strange’s magic sparks into life, creating beautiful and intricate patterns of light and heat. Suddenly it forms a circle and through its growing opening, Clint can see the familiar landscape that haunts his dreams, his every move. Strange looks at him and nods, and they both walk through the opening, going from one planet to another in the blink of an eye.
They’re greeted by the familiar form of Red Skull making his way over to them. They both tense, though Steve said he had been perfectly cordial during their last encounter.
“You’ve returned for her. Finally.” And he turns, beckoning them; they shrug at each other and follow, confused.
“What do you mean ‘finally’?” Clint asks after a few minutes of walking.
“Well, I will admit that time passes differently here, but I was surprised when the other one did not take her back with him, and then no one came to collect her. It was especially confusing after watching the two of you fight, not to avoid that fate, but to embrace it.”
“You mean that we could have done this when Steve returned the Stone?” Stephen asks, wanting to clarify things, wanting to know the rules of this magical plane.
“Yes, a soul for a soul, after all.” And before they can ask anything else, he stops in front of an altar that Clint could have sworn was not there ten feet ago.
Natasha Romanoff is laying on top of this strange stone altar, looking as though she’s taking a quick nap. Looking like she might wake up at any moment. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes, though closed, seem to flicker. She even looks like she’s breathing, and–
“IS SHE ALIVE?” Clint screams, or maybe whispers, he can’t even tell right now, rushing forward to grab her hand, her warm hand.
“Well, yes.” Red Skull looks from Clint to Strange, settling on talking to the latter, the one who isn’t fawning over this ordinary woman.
“A soul for a soul. So when the stone was returned–”
“She gets to come back to life?” Stephen asks, and Clint can’t tell if his excitement is due to the fact that Natasha is alive, or because this is fascinating. Probably the second option.
“Then why is she unconscious?” Clint is getting nervous, looking for the catch.
“I was unsure if anyone would come for her, so I kept her asleep. She is perfectly healthy and safe, and she will wake soon after you return to Earth with her.”
Clint shifts, picks Natasha up, and nods to Strange.
“I think it’s time we go home.” He wants to get out of here, wants to check her over back on Earth. Back where he knows she won’t be ripped from his grasp again.
“Yes,” Stephen turns to Red Skull, “thank you. I apologize for intruding and not coming to retrieve her sooner. We didn't know.”
The odd being simply nods and walks a bit away before disappearing.
Stephen opens the portal, and they walk back through, breathing in relief when they’re back on the familiar green grass of the compound under their own blue sky.
“I’m going to take her to medical, can you tell Steve for me?” Clint is already walking as he says all of this, not wanting to waste any time in case something goes wrong with his best friend, who is miraculously back from the dead.
“Of course!” Stephen calls from behind him, and then it’s all a blur.
He arrives at the medical wing and the nurses and doctors converge on her, looking her over and taking her vitals. After a few tests she’s brought to a secure room, Natasha is infamous here for not being very happy to wake up in the hospital. Clint follows from room to room, test to test, texting with his wife and Steve, and finally sitting down in her room after he drags the chair a bit closer to the hospital bed, wanting to stay near her, just in case.
~~
He keeps looking at Natasha lying there, not believing his eyes, and unwilling to blink lest she disappear.
Natasha is still unmoving on the hospital bed, hooked up to all the various and loud machines, but the doctor has assured Clint that she’s stable, in great condition even, considering… Still, she hasn’t woken up, and Clint is getting more and more anxious as time passes. He should’ve made Strange stay with them, either for his magical abilities or his medical knowledge; still, Clint is more grateful than he’ll ever be able to express.
The heart monitor betrays her, beeping rapidly when she begins to regain consciousness, even though she keeps her eyes closed as she automatically assesses her surroundings. Once she realizes that it’s herheart rate riling up the machine, she takes a deep breath and opens her eyes. They lock on Clint’s where he’s sitting beside her, frozen.
“So I guess it didn't work, huh?” She speaks first and then he’s crying and smiling and hugging her tightly as she tries to figure out what the hell is happening with him.
“Nat, Natasha, yes, it worked, but you’re home now.” And then he has to stop, tears of relief choking him again.
She looks around the room, confused when she doesn’t see you hovering nearby as well, used to your look of relief and frustration whenever she’d landed herself back here.
“Clint, what the hell happened? If it worked, then I should be dead. And if I’m dead I wouldn’t be in the hospital. What. Happened.”
He takes a breath and curses himself for not thinking this through, in his defense though, he’d simply gone to collect her body, and had come home with an alive but unconscious Natasha Romanoff. Not conducive to clear thinking. And of course she’s already frustrated with him. Typical.
He’s missed it so much.
“Well, you did it,” he starts, pausing at this part, unwilling to say the words, “and I got the soul stone.” He keeps going, describing it all, explaining what Steve did, what happened with Tony, all of it. He also explains how Yelena tried to kill him–Natasha smirks at this and rolls her eyes a bit at her sister’s dramatics. Still, he hasn’t said a word about you, and she’s started getting nervous by the time he’s (almost) caught her up with everything.
“What about her, Clint? What happened to my wife?! Where is she?” and her heart rate spikes again, which makes her angry, and just starts a vicious cycle.
“And get these things OFF of me!” She begins ripping at them, taking it all off, which of course brings in the nurses and starts the various medical questions necessary when someone comes back from the dead without a scratch on them. Even for people who work with the Avengers, it’s a bit weird.
Clint just watches off to the side, racking his brain as he tries to figure out what to tell Natasha, and how to prepare you for your dead wife’s sudden return. When he hears his former partner threaten to stab one of the newer nurses, he steps in, and they’re all done in another thirty minutes. The room empties, and Natasha begins to put on her shoes, preparing to leave; Clint winces and puts a hand out to stop her when she stands to go.
“Nat, we need to talk.” She looks at him sharply and he backtracks immediately.
“She’s fine, her and Yelena both; healthy as horses, really.” Not really, but you’re apparently less corpse-like when Yelena is around and he’s counting that as a win.
“But she was really upset about what happened, obviously we all were, but you know how much she loves you.” He stops and takes a breath, wishing he had his own wife here to help him navigate this messy conversation.
“You promised that you’d watch out for her, and I know you did. Just tell me. Please.” She’s sitting there stone-faced as he continues, and it's one of the hardest things he’s ever done. And he’s been through a lot in the last few years…
“She, well, once we got through the funerals, she just kind of shut down. And she wouldn’t leave the compound, wouldn’t come stay with the family at the farm, no matter how much we begged. She went almost catatonic, Nat, and the only reason she didn’t is because we told her we’d have to move her to a hospital, take her out of your home. Still, it wasn’t good.”
He goes on, describes the conversation he’d had with you at her empty grave, explains how Steve kept an eye on you, Sam and Bucky visiting when they could, and finally he gets to Yelena. He says that he’s heard you eat when she’s there, and spend more than an hour in her company, even if most of it is spent in companionable silence. By the time he’s done, Natasha has a faraway look in her eyes, tears running down her cheeks at how much pain you’d been in during the time she’s been gone. If the horrible things Clint is telling her is him being reassuring, she doesn't want to think about what he’s sparing her from knowing.
“I can’t–how am I going to face her, Clint? She’s going to hate me.” The guilt she feels is overpowering, and her head won’t stop spinning as she tries to reconcile the time she’s missed along with your crisis during her absence.
“Are you nuts?!” and Clint is yelling at her for the first time in quite a while, snapping her out of her thoughts. “She’s missed you so–I mean, how can you–? She’s going to be so happy to see you, Natasha. You are her everything, and she’s going to come back to life along with you.”
He can tell that Natasha isn’t fully convinced, but he makes her follow him out of the medical wing, and towards the almost deserted Avenger’s quarters of the compound. Walking next to her is a relief, and he feels almost like himself again.
Chapter 3
~~
Nat and Clint stop to see Steve before they go up to your floor, and though Clint and Strange had warned him, Steve looks so surprised that for a second Clint worries about his heart giving out. Still, he’s smiling and laughing, and looking so pleased to have Natasha back home, alive and well. The smiles last until Nat asks about you, wanting Steve to tell her in his own words about how her wife has been doing, especially since he sees you so often.
His version of events don’t make her feel better; if anything, it’s worse. And she doesn’t know if Clint was trying to soften the blow, or if he genuinely didn't know how bad things were. She thinks it’s a bit of both, based on his body language and words, but she is a bit distracted at the moment, so she’s not too sure. Steve also seems like he’s trying to make her feel better, ensuring that she doesn’t panic about you even as she hears how you’ve been grieving her death. Their combined words have painted a horrifying picture of you in her absence, and she avoids trying to dig deeper into their words to figure out how much they’re hiding from her.
“You need to go see her, Nat.” Steve’s voice is gentle but reprimanding, breaking into her thoughts.
She nods, hears a rushing sound as she tries to figure out what the hell she’s going to say to you, how she’ll explain something she doesn’t really understand herself. She hasn’t even been gone that long in her mind, just going to Vormir and then waking up in the hospital. Still, she stands and makes her way out, shaking her head slightly when Clint goes to follow her. She needs to do this alone, owes it to you. He nods in understanding, sitting down again, and she squares her shoulders and sets out, goes home.
~~
When Natasha reaches your floor and steps out of the elevator, she can immediately feel the desolation, the loneliness that you’ve embraced in her absence. Still, the small lamp that sits on a long thin table in the middle of the hall is turned on, the way it always was when she’d come home from a mission. It was your way of showing her that you’d missed her, that you were waiting for her to return, and she’d bet everything she has that the lamp hasn’t been turned off, not even once, since she’s been gone. Heart beating fast and breathing shallow, she makes her way through the hall towards the door that leads to the kitchen and living room, knowing that that’s where you’ll be, curled up in your spot. The bay window had been your favorite spot since you’d moved in with her, and she takes a few seconds to remember all the times she’s carried you to bed after you’d fallen asleep waiting for her to come home after missions. ,
She opens the door silently, sees you curled up in the bay window, head against the glass. She holds in a gasp at how…sickly you look. She still thinks you’re the most beautiful person in the universe, any universe, but your appearance is shocking. Hair gone brittle, skin dull, dark bags under your eyes, and your wasted figure all makes her heart ache, especially when she remembers how both Steve and Clint had reassured her that you were eating more with Yelena, enjoying her company. If this is you getting better…she really can’t imagine worse, doesn’t want to. She’s horrified enough as it is.
She keeps walking towards you after taking in your appearance, and suddenly your head moves up from the window, your eyes take in her figure. You always seem to know, she thinks fondly, when she’s close, no matter how silently and stealthily she moves, and no matter what's happening around the two of you. You blink a few times and then force yourself up, untangle yourself from the comforter you’d been wrapped in, stand there and look at her where she’s frozen, unable to speak with how happy she is to see you, even like this.
“Natasha, Natty,” you smile, and then you’re speaking in a rush, “I knew you’d be here, but I don’t know–I mean I can’t–can’t quite remember how I—how I died. Is that normal? Although it doesn’t matter. I’m just so happy to be with you again.” Natasha’s smile fades as she realizes what you think is happening, and the happy look on your face makes her stomach turn as her mind races for the words to fix this.
“No, no my love, you’re not dead.” She starts slowly, not wanting to overtax your grief stricken mind. You look confused at her words, and she takes a few steps towards you, heart clenching when you mirror her actions with a look of trepidation. Though confused and fearful, you’re still aching to be close to her.
“I don’t get it, what—? Please, no. No, I’m so tired, don’t leave me again!” And you take another, frantic, step towards her, and then she sees you falter, catches you just before you hit the ground. She checks, and your pulse is steady, but you aren’t waking up, and so she scoops you into her arms and heads back to the medical wing, asking FRIDAY to alert the others as she stands in the elevator holding your limp body.
When you wake up in the medical ward, you start screaming before anyone can talk to you, your last memory being Natasha’s ghost coming to take you away and then rejecting you (or at least, that’s what you think). You begin clawing at yourself, sobbing and screaming, asking for them to let you go, let you join her. Eventually they’re forced to sedate and restrain you, and there are still tears running down your face as the drugs take over and send you rushing into oblivion.
Natasha watches from outside the room, and feels her heart break.
~~
When Yelena gets to the compound, arrives at the medical wing, the sisters go into a private room to talk. Clint had called her and she’d cut a mission short, rushing back even though she couldn't quite believe him. The sisters stand there, facing each other, and Yelena looks over Natasha suspiciously.
“C’mon Yelena. Just ask me what you want and then let me give you a hug.” It may have only felt like a short time since she’d seen you, but she hasn’t seen Yelena in over five years. At least her sister looks healthy, looks like she’d been able to carry on after the blip and Natasha’s death.
Yelena asks two questions before she finally breaks, crying as she falls into her sister’s embrace, grasping tightly as the redhead whispers to her in Russian. Eventually the crying subsides and they sit together, catch up. Natasha asks her sister about everything she’s been up to, starting from when she reappeared after the snap. She asks follow up questions, makes sure that Yelena knows how much she is loved by her older sister. Eventually Yelena gets to you, talks about what it was like to hear about you from Barton and then Steve, and then to meet you, to see her room. They both start crying again, even though neither one will admit it.
“What’s going on with her?” Yelena finally asks. She’s been avoiding the subject since she arrived. Yelena has grown to love you and she knows that her sister is scared by what’s happening, more scared by this than facing her own death. It’s an unsettling thought, and she shies away from it immediately.
“I don’t really know. She thought she was dead, when she saw me,” Natasha explains slowly, “and then she fainted when I tried to explain…things. The doctors are saying that she was out for so long because of how…fragile her body is right now. I brought her here and then when she woke up she completely lost it, tried to—they had to sedate her, even put on restraints.”
Yelena looks shocked, trying to picture you raising your voice even a bit, cannot connect this picture to the idea of you, the low tones you use, your shuffling from one room to the other, the soft smile she’s coaxed from you a couple times. She holds her sister tight, silently promising that she will fix this all, make sure things get better for all of you. And then she thinks that Natasha is probably thinking the same thing. She rests her head on her sister’s shoulder, knowing there is nothing she can say right now, knowing they will both have to wait for you to wake up, and hope that you’ll be calm.
~~
The next time you wake up, you’re restrained, arms and legs tied to the bed, but it doesn't matter. The sedatives are still working their way through your system, you’re groggy and disoriented, and it takes you a few minutes to even remember what's going on, to open your eyes and scan the room. When you do look around, you see Clint staring at you, worry and something else, something you can’t figure out, on his face.
You turn your head to the other side, not wanting to see him.
You remember now, it all comes rushing back; you’d seen Natasha, thought she’d come to bring you to the afterlife, instead, it seems you fainted and someone found you and dragged you to the hospital. You remember waking up the first time, and tears leak out of your eyes as you feel the same desperation creeping up on you.
You face Clint again, gasp out “please.” It’s all you can say, but he’s shaking his head, grasping for your hand.
“No, no. I have something to tell you, I need to explain everything.” He watches for a reaction, but you just blink, cannot muster the energy to respond. He continues anyway, praying that you’re coherent enough to listen and digest the information.
“I talked to Stephen Strange about going to get Natasha’s body,” it hurts when he says her name, the first time he’s said it out loud to you in over a year.
“I wanted to bring her home to bury her here, so that, well, anyway. When we got there, apparently it’s a soul for a soul, and so when Steve returned the stone, he was entitled to–he could’ve–I guess he didn't know–wasn’t told–” Clint keeps struggling, starting and stopping. It's annoying enough to stir you to speak, it helps too that the drugs are wearing off even more as your heart beats faster, annoyance giving way to adrenaline, expelling the drugs.
“Spit it out, I just want to be finished with this.”
“We brought back the stone, and by doing that, we got Natasha back. Alive, I mean. She’s home. She’s here. She’s safe. She’s alive.” You stare at him, unable to believe what he’s saying.
He says it again, all of it and slowly, and then he keeps repeating those two words: ‘she’s alive’.
“Bring her,” you say finally, and he looks concerned. You sit up, frustrated and coherent enough to look like it.
“I’m fine now, you idiot. Someone should have told me! Of course I was going to think I had died, when I SAW MY DEAD WIFE APPEAR! GO GET HER!” You’re yelling by the end, angry and frustrated, and still not quite believing this isn’t some horrible trick. Still, you’d been married to an Avenger, you’ve seen plenty of crazy things over the years. You’re afraid to hope, but you need to, need this to be true.
He runs out of the room, and anticipation blooms in your chest; you start breathing heavily, vision going fuzzy, but you try and calm yourself down, knowing that they’ll sedate you again if you get too overwrought.
You have your eyes closed as you try to manage your breathing, and so you don't see Natasha come in, but you can tell when she’s there, though she’s as silent as ever. It was your own superpower, that's what she’d always said.
“Are you really here?” you ask, voice wavering and eyes still closed.
“Yes,” she says, and you’d forgotten just how sweet her voice sounds, “open up and take a look.”
You steel yourself and open your eyes, take in the sight of your beautiful wife, standing in front of you, looking as though she’d never left.
You go to reach for her, but the restraints that you’re still attached to prevent you from getting very far. You start tugging at them, and she quickly comes over, sitting next to you on the hospital bed, and undoing them with speed and efficiency, not quite meeting your eyes.
Once she’s done, you take her face in your hands, run them along her nose, cheeks, lips, mapping out her face, trailing your hands along her arms, touching her skin wherever you can, trying to prove to yourself that she’s here, alive, in front of you. Your eyes meet, though you can hardly see through the tears of joy and relief that are clouding your vision. You blink to clear them, swallow heavily to unstick your throat; you hold on tighter.
“Natasha,” you whisper, and her eyes close as she leans her forehead against yours. “I missed you so much.” And you’re crying, and the words are pathetic, a shadow of the pain, the misery, the destruction that you felt at her loss, a drop in the ocean of your grief. These are, however, the only words that your tired and drugged brain can come up with, and you begin to repeat them, over and over.
She pulls back to look at you, “I know, I’m so sorry–”
You shake your head, not wanting to think about it anymore, and then you both lean in, your lips meet, and it feels like coming home.
