Endgame spoilers.

Because she deserved a damn funeral of her own. Something.

They have their own little version of a funeral for her.

It's nothing at all like they know she deserves—they don't even have her own fucking body— and it's more quick than what it would be if it were at another time.

They bring a few things and end up burying it all together inside a small chest, the one that he had gotten her for her birthday years and years ago.

("Rogers, I told you already, I don't want—"

"Just open it. Consider it a friendly courtesy if you don't want it to be a gift," he smiled, sliding the neatly wrapped box over to her.

She lifted an eyebrow slightly, before sighing and accepting it. "From Amazon? How original," she teased as she turned it around to have the logo face her.

"Ha ha, at least it isn't a Stark Industries box. You know how many of those are lying around." He rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"If it were a Stark Industries box, Stark would think he has the rights to take partial credit for the gift," Natasha said while pulling back tissue paper. "Steve…"

He felt his stomach drop, worrying settling in at the fact that he had chosen wrong. "Look, I just thought that maybe you'd enjoy having it for personal storage or something, but really, if you don't—"

She shook her head quickly, lifting the antique with carefulness and placing it on the table. "It's beautiful," she whispered. "How did you know?"

He felt relief, along with immense happiness at the fact she was pleased with her gift. "I remembered you telling me about your love for them when we had gone to that one play. Thought you might enjoy it."

"I love it," she said. "Thank you."

He grinned like an idiot for the rest of the day.)

The stuff they bring isn't anything spectacular to the eye of any other person.

But they aren't other people.

Bruce puts a letter in it, and Steve can't help but be curious as to what it says exactly. He knows things have long since passed and been resolved between the two of them, but he knows Bruce still carries a great sense of thankfulness and connection to her for helping him and the Other Guy, even after all those years.

Thor brings the small glass encased dried flower from Asgard that he had given to her after a battle a long, long time ago, telling her that the women who received them were brave and honorable warriors. She had kissed his cheek in appreciation and accepted it with deep gratitude, choosing to have it preserved for keeping.

Tony brings a framed photo of them all laughing and hanging out on the couch together, back when they used to all live together at the Tower and fought like a team. He doesn't remember it ever being taken, and he thinks it was probably Pepper who had gotten the shot. But after he sets the frame down, he also pulls out a little baggie from his pocket and Steve recognizes the small wrapped goodies inside as her favorite candies from Russia that Tony had always used to import for her. They're God-knows how many years old, but no one thinks it's an important thought to voice while Tony places the bag gently next beside the photo.

Clint brings the arrow necklace. Steve knows it immediately as he lifts it up into view and he knows all the years and years of it being well-cared for and worn. For such a dainty accessory, it always had carried a lot of endearment and history for the owner, something that Steve hopes Clint knows. He imperceptibly nods as he passes by him, the gold chain loosely wrapped around Clint's fingers.

And he...he had originally vacillated on whether or not to put the photo inside. It almost seemed too intimate and revealing at first to him, to put such a thing for the others to see, but he brought it at the last minute.

He never got the chance—or really, the courage—to show her any of his drawings of her. He wishes he had. But like many things in his life, he waited too long, and now it's too damn late , again. So this is his next option, and he thinks she'd like it. That maybe she would've said she liked it, then in her manner of teasing, say she was extremely flattered and he should've just asked her if he could paint her like one of his French girls. And he'd would've told her she was Russian, and that she was nothing like any of the French girls he's met, and that he wanted her to be the only Russian girl he drew. And she'd probably tease him for being corny and dramatic while he would just smile.

So he lays the paper carefully beside the necklace, and he decides that he's glad he ended up deciding to bringing it. That he could at least do this for her. And it's the one where he thinks he's captured her the best. The way she carried herself with natural grace, the way she held herself with a confidence and elegance, the way she looked upon the world. The picture reminds him of the Natasha he got the honor to know and become friends with. The woman he came to love.

Where else am I gonna get a view like this?

And he hates the fact he'll never get that view of her again.

He shuts the box and locks in the clasp, studying it one last time. His fingers trace over the little raised hills of swans and flowers, when he lands on the engraved letters, N and R near the bottom left. He lingers there longer than he intends to do, before he sucks in a shaky breath and steps back.

Clint moves up and takes the now non-empty box, tenderly laying it in the little hole they had dug earlier, before Bruce and Thor easily cover it back up with the soil.

"You know, out of all of us, she always knew when to call on our bullshit," Tony says first. "Especially mine."

"She could be secretive, yet so brutally honest," Steve adds, and he feels a sense of fondness and memories surge to the surface.

"Natasha was a lot of things," Clint says quietly.

"Brave," Thor adds.

And so does Bruce. "Courageous."

"She always liked to tease," Steve mentions, and he's thinking of all the times she'd make a joke about his age, or comment with a snarky remark about his dating life.

"Even after all of these years, I could never quite figure her out. She was scary, but also confusing," Tony mentions. "I didn't trust her at first. Took a bit for me to get there. But she was one of the only people I could come to trust completely."

Steve nods, and he understands. "She hated when we first were partnered, you know." It's said for them all, but he mainly directs this to Clint, who looks at him in acknowledgment. "Didn't like that I took your place," he smiled slightly. "But I think she got used to me pretty quickly afterwards. And she taught me a lot of things during that time. Between I Love Lucy to how to improve my then outdated fighting, she made adjusting to the twenty-first century easier. She was my first best friend after the ice. She was always there for me, even during the hardest times. I trusted Nat with my life. I can't imagine what my life would've been like if she'd never been there. And I wish I could've told her how much importance she had in it."

"Natasha had always said I saved her life. But she saved mine just as much, if not more." Clint inhales deeply. "I was at a deeper point in my life when she was there for me. She helped me get out of my funk and introduced me to Laura. And even when I pulled shit during that, Nat was there to call me out on it and helped me keep my ass in place. Not only has she really saved my life several times over the course of our entire friendship, but she's also the reason I ever got a wife and kids. And now, she's the reason I'm going to be able to tell them how much I love them," he barely finishes, looking to the place they had buried the box through tear-filled eyes.

"Nat helped me during my rocky time with…" he gestures to himself awkwardly, "this guy...but, you know… We had a connection, and she helped me, without making me feel used or pitied, like she understood. I'll always be grateful to her for that, and I wish we hadn't departed like we had. I know we went through that whole thing of being...together, but I guess now, I look at that time as a great chance to get to know Natasha Romanoff a little better. And I'm glad that I got to know her as a really great person and friend." Bruce smiles sadly.

Thor clears his throat gruffly and rocks on his heels. "I think that that was one of the greatest things about Natasha. She was able to relate to others. She was a very compassionate person, and that's why she was always understanding and honest with us all. I remember her telling me once to enjoy our time in this world as much as possible, because it's a shame to waste it. And I guess I should be taking that more seriously," he looks down and exhales. "Nat was an amazing friend and warrior in battle. I always thought she had the soul and spunk of a valkyrie," he chuckles, more in bittersweet memories and reminders rather than humor.

"Guess that means it's my turn," Tony inhales. "She was always so loyal, and I had once questioned that, but I was wrong. She always busted my chops, but I guess she did it accordingly. Honestly, I'm not surprised she made the sacrifice. She made the choice, and she went on her own terms. I know she'd rather have that kind of death than the other. And she's a real ass for leaving us to do this without her, but that's why we're going to finish this once and for all. She made a heroic sacrifice, and I'll be damned if we waste it."

They aren't going to. Not now, when they've managed so far already. "Tony's right. She gave us a chance, a chance to finish this, and we have to. We owe it to her," Steve states with conviction.

They all nod, and it almost feels like before the Battle of New York again, with Fury telling them of Coulson's death, upping the stakes, giving them something to fight for. But it's not like that at the same time. Because she'd been one of their own, they had grown close after all these years, even after everything they've all gone through. So this time, it's more painful. It's more personal. It feels like losing a family member.

It is.

Because they had been her family.

"'We have what we have when we have it,'" Steve recalls. "She'd told me that, a long time ago. I don't think I realized what that really meant back then."

"She always wanted to keep us all together. Tried to, at least," Tony says, and Steve knows what he's referring to.

"We're together now. It's late, but we are. And she got to go knowing that," Bruce says.

"Damn late," Clint mutters bitterly.

Thor shifts rather noisily, sniffing once. "Do you think she knew we loved her?" he asks, and his voice is uneven and rough.

And Steve remembers. Remembers her telling him they were the family she never got to have, and he never got to tell her the same. That she was one of theirs too, that she was family to them. And remembers her smile after, when they all got back together, it was a smile she hadn't worn in ages, a smile that he hadn't realized he missed as much as he did. And now, it's something he will always miss.

So he nods, hands in his pockets, gaze on that one spot in the ground. "She knew. Even if we never got around to saying it, she knew. She always knew."

"Guess we should've gotten around to saying it then, huh?" Tony murmurs, and he sounds guilty.

"Yeah…yeah we should've," Steve whispers.

And it's too late.