I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.
I've watched you sleeping for a while.
I'd be the father of your child.
I'd spend a lifetime with you.
I know your fears and you know mine.
We've had our doubts but now we're fine,
And I love you, I swear that's true.
I cannot live without you.

No one had any time for reaction. No one understood how it'd happened, how any of it happened. They didn't have time to. It wasn't like in the movies. Things didn't move in slow motion and people didn't stop to pay attention to the details of the action. Things happened, fast, hard and unpredictable. Sometimes there is no time for any kind of reaction or option to avoid it. It just happens.

The lady with a little baby on her arms was simply too shocked to say anything, to even scream at all. The poor baby was crying, crying as much as her small lungs allowed her to and yet it didn't seem enough. Not enough to express the horror of seeing someone, a stranger giving their life for them. There was a woman. A beautiful young woman, laying in the ground, carrying the bullet that was supposed to reach the baby's mother. Not her. The blood coming out of her body neared the color of her hair, a beautiful flaming red, distinguishable from kilometers away.

Someone, it didn't matter who, took the two people away from the woman. It was too much for civilians too watch and this was not how things were supposed to go. They didn't need to carry the burden of knowing that someone had died to save them. It'd been happening all over New York for the last few weeks. The second attempt of the God of Mischief to take over the planet, Midgard as he called it, was being much more succeeded this time around. Too many people had already died and this woman would have been just another casualty if she wasn't her. Natasha Romanoff.

Tony Stark, the Iron Man, was the one who found her there, in that alley, bleeding to death. That would have been the last thing Natasha would have wanted. From all the people, all of her teammates, everyone but him. Because people didn't know. No one knew that they shared an intimacy much bigger than just a chat from time to time to discuss weapons. They shared so much more than that. The woman had begged him -made him promise- that he wouldn't tell anyone. He wouldn't, couldn't, tell anyone that they were having a case, that they shared a bed every cold night and sweet words every morning. Because this wasn't them; they didn't feel these things, they didn't love. At least that's what everyone else thought, and that was the exact same idea Natasha wanted to keep.

So, as he found her there, it hurt. It hurt because he loved her more than anything and she knew she wasn't going to get out of this one alive. She could feel it, she could feel death burning deep down inside her, slowly approaching and stealing her from him.

"Natasha..." When his voice reached her ears, it felt desperate and broken. Before she could say anything at all, he was siting next to her, arms wrapping carefully around her shoulders. Her eyes, that were previously closed, slowly opened so that she could look at his features. It was something she regretted almost immediately, though. If she felt hurt, then she had no idea how he was feeling because he looked terrible. "Natasha, dear..." He was whispering, almost afraid that she'd break if he spoke any louder. That earned him a grin, that was weak and fragile. But still a grin.

"Hey there, tough man." There was a playful tone on her voice, but it wasn't enough to lighten the mood. There was no reason for that to happen. Not in state she was.

"Shhhh. Don't. Don't speak, Nat. I need you to save your strength until the rescue team comes."

"We both know that won't happen."

"Wha-? Nat, be quiet. They'll come for you, come on. You'll be fine."

"We both know that's not what I meant."

There was a long moment of silence. Neither of them was smiling or making any other kind of reaction. They simply stared into each other's eyes, speaking the unspeakable. Too much blood. She'd lost too much blood until he'd arrived and there was no way she was going to survive this until the rescue team came. She knew it and worst... he did too. His hold around her shoulders tightened and Natasha winced in pain, eyes slipping closed for a second.

"No. I'm not letting you go. You won't- I can't... Nat, please." A somewhat wicked laugh slipped past her lips and then she coughed, a bit of blood soiling her lips. Tony reached out with one hand, wiping away the blood as his eyes flickered down her face carrying a concerned look. She recognized it. This look. It was the same he'd used when she'd told him that they couldn't be together when he first told her that he loved her -even though she changed her mind- or the same he'd used in the several times they'd fought and she threatened to leave forever. That horrible look, mouth slightly open, eyes widened and teeth digging into his teeth as he resisted the urge to let the damn tears fall down his eyes.

"It's okay, Tony." She mumbled, voice failing for a second. He was asking her not to speak, but she had to. She had to because she needed him to keep her voice in his head. "I'll always be with you. Remember how you used to call me your angel? If that's true, then I won't leave you. Ever."

"Damn it, Nat... You can't die... Fuck, you can't leave me like this..." His voice was so pleading and so hurt, that any other person would have tried to comfort him right away. But not her. It was still Natasha, the Black Widow, the woman that didn't feel. Much. Finding some of the strength she still had, she brought one of her hands up to slap him; not as hard as it would have been if she was fine, but hard enough to make him stop the sobbing and the almost-crying. She didn't like this, this moments where feelings took over everything else. Hell, they had a city to save and Tony was worrying about her? She was just another person.

"I swear to God, Tony... If you cry over my death, if you ever cry over my dead body, I will come back from my grave to kick your ass. It's a promise."

"Hush up, Nat. You're not going to die."

Why was she feeling heavy? Why were her eyes trying to close if she wanted to keep them open? Fight it, Tasha. Her mind was fighting, but her body was slowly giving away. Heavier. She felt heavier at every second that passed, she felt weaker.

"Tony..." Now she was the one whispering. Not because she didn't want to speak louder, but because she couldn't. She barely had any strength anymore and speaking felt like the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. "I'm sorry... I don't want to go..." Was that a tear rolling down her cheek? Tony wiped it away with his thumb, inhaling sharply as she felt her giving in. He knew she was strong, strong enough to fight everything, but not this. Shit. He wanted to cry. But she didn't want him to. So he was going to stay strong, until her very last minute, because she deserved that. For the woman that she'd always been.

"I know, angel. I know."

Natasha snuggled closer to him, using the very last bits of her strength to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. By now there were shivers running down her spine and her body was shaking. She felt afraid, for the first time in her life. Truly afraid. She'd never feared death, but there was something different this time. It wasn't about leaving. It was about leaving him. She didn't want to, but it wasn't her choice now. Her body had long decided that it was going to give into death. It was ready and she had to be ready too.

"I-it f-feels... cold..." Deep breath. Tony held on tighter to her. Maybe she was ready to go, but he wasn't ready to let her go. He loved her too damn much. It didn't matter what he would have to do, he couldn't let her go. Not like this. He'd barely gotten the chance to say goodbye. She just couldn't. "God, I f-feel so c-cold... It's a-almost funny... It feels like Russia in D-December..." Natasha. Please don't go. "Goodbye, Tony... I'll always lov-..." Her eyes are closed. She's no longer breathing. There's no pulse. Gone.

Nat.

Tasha.

Natasha, please.

Natalia... Я люблю тебя.