Disclaimer: This is not mine. Unfortunately.
This fic is kind of a random fic for me - it's not part of either of the universes I'm working on things in. It's also a bit of a counterpoint to fics where I kill characters (because reasons) and it's kind of hopeful, I think. At least in the end. Anyway. I love to hear what people think, so feedback would be great!
He never thought he would outlive her. She had always known that. She just didn't think he would be the first to go. She should have known that jumping off buildings would catch up with Clint. Now…now it was like those stories where someone waited for their love to wake up (but she didn't love him because love was for children).
It was quiet. The walls were stark white and cold. The only comfort was the sharp beeping of the machines Clint was hooked up to.
If she knew the words to say, she would say them. If there was anything she could do to bring him back, she would.
Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?
If she had to outsmart Loki all over again to get Clint back, she would. She could handle Loki. What she could not handle was that the only reason Clint had not come back to her was Clint himself. There was some sort of wall between them. He was not in a coma, but he was not waking up.
You think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything?
Saving him had changed everything. Sure, they could have probably survived if she hadn't managed to get Loki out of his head, but at what cost? Stark would have died. Anyone else might have. Innocents would have been killed. Clint had never liked it when civilians got caught in the fallout of their missions.
Loki was wrong about Clint, all those months ago. He was so very wrong. They might kill and kill and their hands might be stained and dripping red with blood, but they did what they had to in order to keep their world safe. Clint tried to save everyone he could. He had saved her. No more virtuous than herself? That was wrong. Clint had always been a good man. He might not be a good person – his sins stained him as much as hers had stained her, but he tried. He strove to be the best he could be. He strove to save as many lives as he could.
And then had had to play the hero. He had to keep jumping off buildings and being stupid and now he was here. Wherever here really was. It seemed so far removed, even though she could see the cityscape of London outside the window and hear the voices of the Avengers in the background.
She did not know what she would do without him. He was her partner, her closest friend. She needed him, especially after they had lost Phil.
Natasha sighed and rose, moving to stare out the window. Rain tapped the glass gently. It was a cliché, she thought. It always rained in those movies Clint had made her watch with him. It always rained when they were about to lose someone important.
She tore her gaze away from the city and turned, crossing the room to sit on the edge of his bed. He needed to wake up. He had to wake up. The team needed him. She needed him. She put her hand in his, running her fingertips over the calluses on his palm and fingers. She distracted herself, a faint smile playing on her lips when she thought of some of the happier moments of their partnership.
There was a gentle squeeze on her fingers and she looked up. Tired blue eyes watched her. There was an amused smile on his face.
"Don't you ever do that again, you idiot," Natasha told him softly.
Clint let out a hoarse bark of laughter that turned into a wheezing cough just as fast. "No promises," he said when the coughs stopped. "I'll try not to. I can't say falling a hundred feet and getting grabbed by the Hulk is something I'd like to do again."
Natasha shook her head and squeezed his hand. That was enough.