What Hurts The Most, an avengers fanfic

I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don't bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out

Steve Rogers sat in the bedroom of his apartment, the rain from the storm outside creating the only noise he could hear. He tried to focus on the sounds the rain made as it hit the different surfaces. When it hit the window, it produced a tapping noise, while when it hit the roof of the apartment building, it was more of a plop.

The rain was the only thing that was keeping him calm at the moment.

He stared at the wall, trying to breathe although it felt like there was a hole in his chest where his heart should be. A huge piece of him was missing and it was killing him inside. He swallowed hard, going over the words Fury had said to him in his head. The whole scene was on a replay.

Steve walked into Fury's office and saw the man sitting with a tired and somewhat sad look on his face. He knew this couldn't be good when the toughest and least emotional man he knew looked as though his pet dog died.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, sitting in the chair across Fury's desk.

"I have some bad news, Steve," Fury said carefully, then paused as if he were gauging Steve's reaction. "As you know, Natasha was on a mission."

Steve nodded, a knot in his stomach beginning to form. Was she okay? It was Natasha, of course she was okay. She was great in action. Maybe she would be coming back later than expected due to delays. Or maybe she was kidnapped and Fury needed the rest of the team to go help her out. It wouldn't be a problem and it wouldn't even take that long.

But then why wasn't the rest of the team there.

"What is it?" Steve asked softly, slightly concerned.

Fury sat up straight and looked him straight in the eye. "She didn't make it."

Steve stared back at him for a moment, letting the words sink it. "What do you mean she didn't make it?"

"She was with a team of field agents and they were ambushed by about 100 soldiers."

"That doesn't matter, this is Natasha we're talking about."

Fury sighed. "I know. I wasn't there, so I can't tell you exactly what happened. But she was fighting several at once and then there was a sniper who hit her."

The words tumbled around in Steve's head.

A sniper hit her. But how? She should've been able to catch, if not, then at least deflect the bullet or arrow. She's had lots of practice with Clint in that area.

"No!" Steve practically shouted, angry now.

Someone was lying to him. Maybe it was Natasha, lying to everyone just to get away from him. No, she wouldn't do that. She would just leave, not put on this whole charade of her being dead. Maybe it was Fury. Maybe Natasha was still on a mission and…

And what?

No one had any reason to lie to anyone in this situation.

"I'm sorry, Steve. But she's gone."

I'm not afraid to cry every once in a while
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me
There are days every now and again I pretend I'm OK
But that's not what gets me

Steve slowly made his way to the bathroom after a long day of working out to wash his face and lay down in an attempt to sleep, although he already knew it would fail. It was still worth a shot. He reached over to turn the light switch on. As soon as he flipped the switch, one of the two lightbulbs went out. He just sighed, moving to stand in front of the mirror.

The first thing he noticed were the bags underneath his eyes. They were shades of purple, a dead giveaway on how little sleep he had gotten the past couple of nights. Maybe he had some Z-Quil or something else to help him sleep. He opened the medicine cabinet and that's where he found it.

A bottle of Natasha's lotion.

His heart felt like it was being shot as he stared at the bottle. He reached toward it before he could think, and found himself opening the bottle to smell it. And it smelled just like her.

He heard the bottle hitting the sink as he clenched at the sides of the sink, practically gasping for air. Hot tears began to run down his face, hitting the bottle below him as they rolled off his chin. This was the first time he broke down, and it was finally beginning to settle in.

Natasha was gone.

Dead. Not coming back.

He would never have her in his arms again. He would never get to feel her lips on his and her hand pulling slightly on his hair. He would never be able to see her sharp green eyes stare into his own as she flirted with him when everyone was around, none of them suspecting a thing that was going on because that's how she liked it. Private.

God, he missed her so much.

What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was tryin' to do

"What do you mean you have to go?" Steve demanded, staring at Natasha.

He had just gotten home from the store to find her packing her things. Even though they weren't officially together, there was enough of her things at his place that they might as well be living together.

Maybe it was being changed to were. He didn't know.

He watched the red head practically run around the bedroom, opening drawers and throwing any and all of her clothing on the bed were there laid an open bag of her things. She ignored him, not having looked at him since he had arrived, only stopped enough to tell him she had to go.

He walked over to her and grabbed her arm, just hard enough to get her to stop moving for a second.

"Tasha.." he sighed, looking at the top of her head since she just looked away. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she muttered. He knew that wasn't completely true.

"Please tell me what's going on, Natalia." He knew using her full name would get the response he wanted out of her.

She looked up at him and he noticed her eyes were glossed over as if she were going to cry. "I have to leave, Rogers. I should have never let… whatever this is between us get this far." She sighed, looking away from him again. "And Fury has me leaving for a mission and I have to go immediately."

Steve's heart wrenched in his chest when she referred to him by his last name. He knew why she did it, though. She wanted distance. No, not distance. She wanted to build up a wall between them, one that even he wouldn't be able to break through. He swallowed hard at the mention of a mission, then put a finger under her chin to left her face up so that she was looking at him. Before she could say another word, he put his lips on hers, soft, yet still passionate. This was his attempt to show her how he felt about her, hoping it would make her keep the wall down.

She kissed back, but only for a moment. He soon found himself without her next to him, but instead, she was across the room, bag over her shoulder.

"I've got to go. I'll see you soon, Cap."

Steve remembers watching her leave the apartment that day, not knowing what was going to happen between them. And scared as hell for the future. He remembers wanting to chase after her, convince her to stay. Tell her everything he wanted to say to her but didn't because he was too scared.

Maybe then she wouldn't have begged Fury for any sort of mission he could give her after she had left that night.

It's hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go
But I'm doin' It
It's hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone

Steve decided to go to the gym at Stark Towers to try to work out what was going through his head. He grabbed his gym bag and threw a sweatshirt on, pulling the hood over his head so he wouldn't get too wet from the rain. He didn't really care, it was just a habit.

When he arrived, he found the other Avengers there as well. Bruce was helping Tony with his form on some special martial arts kick, and Clint and Thor were sitting around talking. Steve couldn't help but notice that Clint looked to be in pretty bad shape. He must have taken the news harsh. He didn't blame the man, he and Natasha had been friends for years now. And he couldn't help but be jealous of that.

As soon as he entered the room, everyone stopped. For a moment, the room was dead silent. Steve glanced over all of them, then proceeded to head to where the lockers were located in order change. When he came back out, everyone was doing what they were doing before; however, they were also seeming to ignore him while glancing in his direction every chance they could. Once everyone found out about what happened to Natasha, and saw what a mess Steve was about it, they were able to put two-and-two together and figure out what was going on.

He started taking out the punching bags, a lot more easily than he had recently. He wasn't sad anymore, he was pissed. Pissed that he didn't get more time with her and that she didn't get more time. It wasn't fair. And the worst part of it all, she probably thought her ledger was still red.

After taking out four punching bags in a row with a single punch, Steve felt someone tap his shoulder. He turned to find Bruce standing there, obvious concern in his eyes.

"How you doing, Cap?" he asked.

Cap. The last word Natasha had said to him.

"Please don't call me that," was all he said before taking out another punching bag.

"Alright Steve. Do you want to talk?"

Steve grunted, feeling his shoulders beginning to burn as he took out a sixth bag.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, hoping Bruce would just go away and leave him be.

He knew the doctor was just trying to help, but he really did not feel like talking to anyone about this yet.

Still Harder

Getting up, getting dressed, livin' with this regret

But I know if I could do it over

I would trade, give away all the words that I save in my heart

That I left unspoken

Every day now was a struggle, but Steve managed. It was beginning to become a routine. Get up, shower, dry off, get dressed, jog, come home, drink water, go to Stark Tower, work out, eat, go home, and try to sleep. And the next day he would do it all over again.

And every night, as he lay in bed trying to fall asleep, he would think about what would have happened if he had just told Natasha all the things he had kept to himself. Maybe she would be here with him now. Maybe they would've finally come out to everyone else, get more serious, married even…

He knew there was no point in thinking about the possible future they could have had, but he couldn't help it. He just wished he could go back, do it over again, and make her stay.

Steve pulled up on his bike to the church. His hands were gripping the handles hard and not wanting to let go. He just wanted to ride home, pretend none of this was happening. But he also knew he would regret it if he didn't go in.

He was finally able to move his hands, first taking the helmet off his head, then stepping over the bike so he was off and standing on his own two feet. He hung the helmet on the handle bar of the bike by the strap.

Stepping away, he smoothed out his hair, and then his suit. Perhaps riding his bike in a suit wasn't the best idea, but it made things feel normal for a little while, even though everything was falling apart. As he turned to the church, he felt his chest tighten. He knew what was through those doors and he did not want to believe that any of this was true. It couldn't be true, he had too much he had wanted to tell her.

He swallowed hard, not noticing that his feet had begun to move toward the door. When he walked in, he noticed that the room was dimly light. There were many rows of pews for seating, but only the first couple in the middle was filled. Not many people were there, but that wasn't surprising. Natasha hadn't let many people into her life.

He sat in the third row alone, not wanting to engage in conversation with anyone. Being here was hard enough, and since the news, everyone at SHIELD had pretty much figured out what had gone on between him and Tasha. He didn't want anyone to come over and apologize for his loss. No, that was bullshit.

He didn't listen much throughout the service. The man speaking knew nothing of who Natasha was, he had no right saying that she was a wonderful person. Steve knew that she would not have agreed to what the preacher man was saying. She would have argued, saying that she was still a horrible person who was trying to clean her plate, but she had caused too much bloodshed to the point that it would never be fixed.

He was thinking about what he reaction to the service might have been when someone tapped his knee, getting his attention. It was Clint, who merely nodded his head in the direction of the line being formed to view Natasha one last time.

He got up and stood behind Tony, getting ready to view Natasha. For the last time. He looked up at the ceiling, the wall in front of him, the windows, the benches of the church, anywhere except to where Natasha was until he was next to view her. He stood still, looking down.

She looked beautiful, but a different type of beautiful. Here, she was almost doll-like. He liked her beautiful better. The way she smiled at him after pinning him down because he slipped up while they were in training. The way her lips felt against his own, seemingly made to perfectly match his own. The way she was built up strong and never gave up in a fight, no matter how badly she was hurt.

He placed a hand on her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin one last time. He would give anything just to go back to that night and spill out his heart to her. Maybe that would have made her stayed.

Steve cut the engine of his bike and slowly slid off, setting his helmet down on the seat. He took the flowers out of the saddle bag, making sure they didn't look like they were a mess. He had gotten some red and black roses. Simple, elegant, and he kept the thorns on the stems to show that, no matter how beautiful they are, they're still dangerous.

Just like Natasha.

He sighed, then walked over to where there was freshly dug dirt. He sat down in front of a gravestone, legs crossed, and he set the flowers down on the ground.

"There's a mission tomorrow," he mumbled, looking at the headstone in front of him. "It's going to be a lot different without you here to help us out, Nat."

In all honesty, he wasn't sure if they would win this fight without her. She always knew what to do when shit started going down. She always had a backup plan and seemed to always be at your side when you needed her most.

Well, almost always.

"Tasha." he started, swallowing hard when he felt the burn of tears behind his eyes. "Why did you have to go? I wish I would've known exactly how I felt about you before, maybe because then if I had said it, you would have stayed. And you'd still be here with me and the rest of the Avengers."

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling tears slipping down his cheeks. "I miss you. I can't sleep without you, Tasha. I need you here. I don't… I can't.."

He breathed in deeply, trying to regain some self-control. "I wish you were here again. I need you. I've always needed you, since the day we met. I don't know what it is about you, but you… you gave me feelings I haven't felt since Peggy."

He moved closed to her headstone to run his fingers over her name, smiling just a little to himself. "I love you, Natasha. And I always will."