Author's Note: Just a quick little one shot inspired by a tumblr post that expands on the final scene of Avengers: Infinity War and is my attempt to make Clint Barton relevant again!

TRIGGER WARNING: Death of children and vague mention of suicide.

The Fallout

Nobody moved, everyone just stood around in shock, trying in vain to absorb what just happened. They could only stare at the destruction and loss that was around them. It took several long minutes of complete silence to really begin to realize what was happening outside of who had been right there with them.

And suddenly, Natasha was stumbling away from the group. No one said anything, everyone else still in too much shock to have much of a reaction.

Natasha's hands were shaking as she was digging a cell phone out of her pocket. She was so uncharacteristically unsteady that she actually dropped the phone and had to stoop to pick it back up. There was a tightening in her chest as she dialed a number she had long ago committed to memory, a number that was too dangerous to keep saved in her phone. She mechanically brought the phone to her ear, leaning heavily against a nearby tree, the only reason she was still upright.

"Please, please, please," she whispered as she listened to the drone of the phone trying to connect. "Please, pick up, please, please, pick up." She was hardly aware of her voice getting louder, more desperate. "Pick up, damnit!"

There was the click of the phone on the other end being answered, and Natasha felt her heart flying up into her chest.

"Nat?"

For a moment, all Natasha could focus on was the sound of Clint Barton's voice. He was alive and for a long moment that was all that mattered. But her moment of overwhelming reprieve, what she couldn't hear was how painfully thin his voice sounded, how it shook uncharacteristically with barely contained emotions.

"Clint," she sighed in relief.

A split second later, that relief was violently ripped away from her.

"Nat… what happened? What's happening?"

His voice cracked, and the reality of the situation finally came crashing down on Natasha. Her fragile grasp on composure wavered and suddenly she was sitting on the ground with no real memory of how she had gotten there. Her gaze moved around her surroundings as the wind picked up, blowing… dust? Ash? Dirt? She still couldn't quite grasp what exactly had happened, all she knew was that Bucky, Wanda, Sam, T'Challa… god, how many others?

They were gone.

"Who?" she found herself choking out. "Who's gone?"

It wasn't the most elegant or sensitive way to word it, but she could barely get the words out as it was.

"Laura," Clint's voice sounded so terribly… wrong. Off balance. And as he continued he sounded so painfully gutted. "Coop… Lila…" Natasha felt like she could barely breathe, her free hand suddenly pressing against her mouth. "Nate…"

Oh god… all of them… they had failed all of them.

And she had failed Clint. She had deliberately kept him out of this fight, had thought his family would be safer with him there with them. Could Clint being here with them have made a difference today? There was no way to know for certain. But it was a question that would viciously haunt Natasha going forward.

"Tasha," Clint's suddenly hoarse voice cut through to her, his tone begging her to give him some hope, to tell him that his family wasn't gone for good. "What's going on? Where did they go?"

He was desperately looking for a lifeline that she could not give him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly, taking in a shuddering breath as she dropped her head, sliding the hand that had been on her mouth up to brace her forehead. "I'm so sorry."

"Nat," Clint said, desperate denial clear in his voice. He had to pause and take an unsteady breath before he could continue. "Nat, tell me what's happening. Tell me we can fix this." Please…? The implication was painfully there.

Natasha was shaking her head, barely aware that Clint couldn't actually see her. Hardly aware of the moisture suddenly clinging to her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Clint."

"No." Clint's voice broke. And the sound caused Natasha's heart to shatter, splintering through her chest. "No… no… nononono, NO!"

Natasha had no more words to offer him as she squeezed her eyes shut, silently listening to the crashing noises suddenly coming over the line. She could picture the table being upturned, the lamp being thrown and sent shattering, chairs kicked and left in splinters. And she could suddenly feel every inch of the horrible distance between her and her best friend. What she wouldn't give to be there with him. Not to stop his justifiable rampage but to at least be able to bandage the wounds that he was likely inflicting on himself in his blind rage.

She didn't dare hang up the phone, not even when the commotion became more distant, making it clear that Clint had dropped the phone. This was her penance. Having to listen while helpless to do anything to stop this. And a gut-wrenching thought crashed over her without her consent: Would Clint do the unthinkable now that he had lost everything? Would he have anything left to live for now that he had lost everything? He certainly had enough options around his house to get the job done.

Would Natasha stop him, given the chance?

What had Clint and his family been doing when this had happened? Had he watched each of them disintegrate one at a time? Had he been holding Nathaniel, forced to feel his infant son turn to dust in his arms? Had Lila seen what was happening, had she turned frightened eyes to her father, run to him only to disappear before she reached the man that she thought would protect her from anything? Had Cooper tried to be brave, tried to protect his younger siblings? Had Laura had to watch her children disappear before the curse took her as well?

Leaving her husband completely alone.

"Natasha?"

Natasha finally opened her eyes and looked up – having to blink several times before the world came back into focus – at Steve Rogers suddenly standing over her. She hadn't even heard him approach. The pain was still raw in his features and he had a deadened, numb look in his eyes that she had never seen before.

"Clint… he's okay but his whole family… they're gone." Her voice suddenly sounded foreign to her, as if it were someone else altogether who was speaking. Because Natasha Romanoff didn't sound so small, so broken.

The look on Steve's face broke even more. Natasha hadn't thought that was possible.

"Oh god…" he murmured, scrubbing a shaking hand over his face.

Natasha realized that the line she had been listening to had disconnected at some point. She mechanically lowered the phone, staring down at it for a moment before she spoke again.

"I… I need to go."

She needed to get to Clint, that was the only clear thought that she could even begin to process. It was the one truth that she could hold onto right now, a job to do to keep her from completely falling apart. But she made no move to stand. She honestly wasn't sure if she could.

The stakes had been higher than they had ever been before. And for the first time, the Avengers had failed completely and monumentally. They had lost. And the whole world – the whole universe – was paying the price.

But as Natasha finally pulled herself to her feet – admittedly with Steve's help – she could only think of one man. One husband without his wife, a father without his children.

She couldn't save the whole world. That much was painfully, laughably obvious. But maybe, just maybe, she could keep this one person from self-destructing. And for now, that would have to be enough to keep her going.

One foot in front of the other. One shattered piece of her composure carefully fixed back in place before the next. This was their new reality. All that was left to do was deal with it.