Warnings: Major Character Death :,(, angst, and mild description of...well death. Also, swearing and possible OOCness with...the whole character dying scene...but I mean, who really knows how someone would react during a time as scary and vulnerable as death?
Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape, or form own the Avengers and this piece of work is for entertainment only. I make no money from this.
Notes: First of all, this is unbetaed, but I did read and edit to catch any errors I made however there may be one or two I accidently skipped over. Rest assured that I will be editing this periodically just to make sure. Also, this is intended to be implied and/or future Natasha/Clint and only a friendship between Steve and Natasha, but it can be (sort of) read as Steve/Natasha if you want to pretend ;) Enjoy and R&R!
Also, I'd like to give a big Thank-You to anyone who has reviewed! They always makes me smile and feel all warm and fuzzy, so thank-you guys :D
They hadn't been prepared for the first explosion. They were all sitting in the Stark Tower living room watching T.V and eating popcorn when the ground shook. Tony called his suit, Steve put on his, Clint and Natasha (already wearing theirs) were the first ones outside, followed right by Bruce who was mentally preparing himself to Hulk Out. Thor was currently off planet, which complicated things drastically, but SHIELD hadn't received any death threats lately, so everyone was feeling pretty comfortable.
It would be after the battle that Captain America would shake his fist at the sky and curse his –and everyone else's- ignorance.
Steve raced out of the building, almost bumping into the Hulk's leg. He growled at the puny human, but otherwise ignored him. Black dust filled the air, people ran in every direction screaming, and flames licked the sides of one tall apartment building. Steve looked up at the Hulk and shook a finger at him.
"Hulk do not smash, you got it?" He commanded. This wasn't an alien invasion, or the military attacking Stark Tower to try and get to Bruce. This was 1) a low-grade terrorist attack or 2) some stupid American that decided to blow up an apartment building for some unknown reason.
From his position, Steve could see Tony soaring overhead, mostly likely scooping the surrounding area for danger. He could also see Clint and Natasha running towards the burning building, dodging falling debris. The Hulk let out an irritated snort, but otherwise remained passive. Steve thanked God for that as he ran after the two assassins.
He vaulted over cars, and ducked around people who were too slow to move. Police sirens wailed in the distance. It didn't take long for the super soldier to reach the assassins who were standing outside the building, assessing what their best course of action would be.
"We need to go in." Natasha said just as thunder and lightning rolled across the sky. Steve covered his eyes and glanced up, half expecting to see Thor falling out of the sky wielding his hammer, but it appeared to just be a normal storm. As if to confirm this, another crack sent rain down.
"There are people inside." Steve said as he watched the fire dance up and down the building. Clint nodded as he peered through one of the gaps in the wall.
"I'll stay here and make sure everyone you get out stays at a safe distance." He decided. Natasha and Steve didn't waste another moment. They sprinted forward into the building that smelt thickly of ash. Natasha ducked underneath a burning beam just before it collapsed. Terrified screams and raspy coughs filled the building as Steve squinted through the smoke. His lungs burned, and his eyes watered as he struggled forward.
The first person he found was a young girl with blonde hair. She shied away at first, but after a moment of coaxing she crawled into his arms, tears dampening his suit. He came across a woman next, who grabbed onto his arm, black soot covering her face. Together, they made their way back to the entrance, stepping over missing floorboards and flaming fallen beams.
Clint was waiting like he said he would. The first glimpse of blue he saw he rushed forward. He wrangled the little girl out of Steve's arms and sat her behind him. Tony, who just landed, walked up and guided her back towards the throng of people gathered outside of the burning building. There were fire trucks spraying water from their hoses at the flames, but none of it seemed to do any good.
Steve passed the woman clutching to his arm over to Clint and dove back inside before he could see was he did to her. He maneuvered through the building, coughing up phlegm from his lungs. His entire body hurt from the lack of oxygen he was taking in. But, his serum allowed greater endurance. He worried about Natasha though. She was only human.
Digging his way through the debris and narrowing missing a falling beam, he came across of group of people all holding hands and making their way towards the exit. "Go that way." Steve jabbed his finger in the direction he came from. The elderly man leading the group coughed and nodded, tugging his friends and family behind him. Steve pushed his way through them as he searched for other victims and Natasha.
"Natasha!" He cried, his voice catching on a cough. "Natasha!" He pushed his way through a door, flames licking dangerously close to his hand. The building was falling down around him. Glass from the windows was melting, smelling strangely like burning plastic and looking like hair gel as it slid down the window panes. The floor was bouncing beneath his feet as the foundation burned. Blackened floorboards groaned as he tentatively set his weight on them, praying that the floor wouldn't give and he'd be plummeted into the fiery basement below.
A close call with a floorboard had Steve scrambling to hold on. Luckily, due to his enhanced speed, he managed to grab a still intact door and pull himself onto safer ground. The basement was nothing more than a sea of flames. Steve imagined that Hell looked a lot like that. He pushed himself away from the door and called for his teammate again, panicked that she fell through the floor; there were plenty of gaps in it.
"Steve?" A questioning voice called over the roar of flames and the pounding in Steve's head. His eyes jerked up at the raspy sound of Natasha's voice. As swiftly and carefully as possible, he maneuvered around crisp furniture and patches of fire. It was hard to see anything through the dense smoke, but a flash of black and red caught his eye.
"Natasha! Over here!" He managed to yell. The flash of eyes scanned through the smoke as she spotted him. She dropped to her hands and knees, coughing and wheezing. Steve copied her move, relieved when he could suddenly breathe again. He crawled towards her; scared at the way she was staying perfectly still, lips gaping as she struggled for air. Her face was black, and her hands, missing her gloves, were burnt terribly. The skin seemed to almost be hanging off of them, like a burnt marshmallow over a camp fire.
"St-Steve." She managed as he got within touching range. "Is everyone out?" She asked. Her hair was singed and her eyes hallow as she grasped his forearm. He nodded
"Yeah. Everyone but us. C'mon." Steve pulled her to her feet and cradled her against him as best he could. She tucked her head under his arm and gasped for air, but her lungs were only filled with acrid smoke. Her eyes burned as she drew her face away from his side. Her feet felt like lead as they stumbled to keep up with Steve's fast pace. She fell back a little, but kept her hand entwined with his so they wouldn't get separated. He muscled objects out of the way, kicking burning wood and debris to form a clear path.
They came to a blockage. The door was half hanging off of its hinges and luckily not on fire, but Steve told Natasha that he'd need both hands to rip it off. She let go of his hand and backed up to give him room. It was then that the house groaned and shook as the fire ate away at it. The sharp splintering sound ripped through the house over the sound of crackling fire and Steve's pants as he attempted to move the door.
Natasha saw it coming from a mile away, but her feet moved too slow, much, much too slow. She dove to the side, but the beam was already crashing down and upon her. The feel of heavy wood smacking against her abdomen and forcing her against the floor was one of the most painful experiences of her life. She heard a sickening crunch of something snapping in her back as the beam expertly pinned down her hips and legs. All sensation from the waist down was lost.
She dimly heard Steve shouting something, but it was muffled. Sharp pain flared through her side as a chunk of the beam stabbed into her. She felt her muscles and tendons rip as the shard of wood embedded itself into her liver. Her side quickly grew tingly and numb. Her hand drifted instinctively down to the shard of wood. Moist wetness coated her fingers as she probed around the injured area. When she moved her hand up to investigate, she saw nothing but a wet sheen of dark red on her pale fingers.
The floor jostled as Steve landed on his knees beside her, babbling in blind panic. His hands floated above her body, unsure what to do. As reality caught up with Natasha, she finally heard his words.
"Oh god, Nat. Oh my god, are you okay? Can you hear me?" Steve was crying now, tears running down his face unabashedly. He felt his heart split as he noticed the blood staining her uniform and the vacant, yet pained, glimmer in her eyes. He gently splayed his hand around the wood sticking out of her side, pressing down to stop the bleeding. Illogically he prayed and hoped that she would kick off the beam of wood lying across her, and that she'd stand up and hobble out of here and be okay. That she would come out of this with a grim look of determination, and hard eyes, ready to fight again. But he knew deep down that she wasn't going to make it out of this building, that she wasn't going to smirk at Clint and Tony's stupid bickering in the morning, and spread out on the couch watching T.V shows late at night. Logically he knew that she was gone the moment he saw the beam smack into her, and the sound of her spine turning to dust as she hit the floor.
"Steve…" Natasha groaned, her voice breaking. It hurt so much more than she thought it would. She knew pain, she'd dealt with it all her life, but this-this wasn't pain. This was death. She could feel cold hands grasping at her heart, making each beat painful and slow. Talking sent unpleasant vibrations through her body, but she needed to talk to Steve. She needed him to say something.
"Shh, I'm going to get you out." Steve said, cupping the side of her face with his bloodied hand and running his fingers through her tangle of red curls with the other. He was a soldier. He was no stranger to death. He had left soldiers on the battlefield before, but this wasn't just another soldier. This was family. He wasn't ready to accept that he, that everyone, was going to lose her. He wasn't ready to say goodbye.
"Listen-listen to me, Cap," Natasha began. Her hand fumbled for his and he captured it. Her blood was smeared against both of their palms. Steve bit his lip, his throat locking as he tried to stifle his tears. As hard as this was for him, he knew it was ten times harder for her. "Can you, can you tell Clint something for me?"
"Yeah, whatever you want." He wanted to tell her that she'd have the opportunity to tell him for herself, but he knew that it just wasn't going to happen. The fire was closing in.
"Tell him that love is for children," She coughed, blood spurting out from her mouth and dribbling down her chin. She gripped Steve's hand a little tighter. "But that if I could do it all over again, I wouldn't mind being a child with him, just for a little while." She shivered at her weakness. She never pictured going out like this, not after all she'd been through. Kicking alien ass, surviving Bruce's Hulk-Out aboard the Helicarrier, and everything before that. But here she was, the life bleeding out of her, with Captain America, stripping and exposing her soul to him. "And tell him-tell him that I had the time of my life in Budapest." She sputtered, fighting for oxygen and half-drowning in her own blood. Steve choked back a sob and gripped her hand tighter. He knew he had to leave, the building would collapse at any moment, but he felt sick just leaving her here. There would never be a body to bury. There would always be loose ends.
"I promise." He whispered, but Natasha didn't respond. Her glassy green eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling that was rapidly caving in. Steve bestowed a quick kiss upon her forehead before laying her hand across her stomach and jumping to his feet. Pushing his grief into the back of his mind, he made his way out of the maze that was the burning apartment building. He stumbled into the street, hands wet with Natasha's blood and face caked with tears.
Civilians pointed at him as he tripped over his feet in his haste to get away from the building before it either crumbled or exploded. Clint hadn't noticed him yet, he was off making sure people weren't getting past the police barrier. Tony saw him though. The billionaire's face plate was raised, and the moment he saw Steve, all alone covered in blood that clearly wasn't his own and sobbing openly, his face paled. He looked away, unable to meet the super soldier's eyes. Not now. He had to go and make sure the Hulk wasn't off smashing stuff.
Steve's throat was parched, and each breath was painful, but he refused help from the SHIELD medical personnel. He made a promise to a friend. Gathering up all of his courage, he wiped his face with the back of his hand, and started towards Barton. He knew what he had to say, that part was simple. How to say it was a totally different matter.
Steve breathed out deeply and bit back tears. He'd lost people before, he lost Peggy…but that was seventy years ago and this was now, and there was nothing more painful than the present. Clint turned around when Steve was within seven or eight feet of him. His face was pale, as if he had already heard the awful news Steve was to deliver, but there was still a gleam of hope in his eyes.
Captain America felt his heart shatter all over again as Clint made eye contact with him. The archer froze, eyes glued to the gentle shaking of Steve's head, and the blood staining his suit. Right then and there Hawkeye broke down. A pained cry ripped from his throat as his knees almost buckled. He ran for the building which was showering sparks and was little more than a puddle of burning rubble. Steve called his name, but he didn't stop, not until Steve raced after him and threw his arms around his waist, pulling him back.
"Let me go!" He screamed, pushing at his teammate's hands. Steve kept his grip firm as he gave Clint one, sharp shake.
"You can't go in there Clint." He said softly. Clint only sobbed and wiggled free of Steve's grasp. He walked forward a few steps, wet eyes dancing across the mute crowd.
"The fuck I can't, Rogers. The fuck I can't." He whispered as he fell to the ground. His knees scraped against the tar, but he hardly paid it any mind. He stared at his hands, at the lines and calluses that Natasha would insist he rubbed oil on. Steve stumbled forward a few steps and kneeled beside him. A mutual, grievous silence hung between the two, anguished men, one openly shedding tears and the other silent in disbelief.
"She wanted me to tell you something." Steve spoke up, brushing a tear away from his eye. He wasn't ashamed to cry, real men cried, and this was definitely something to cry over. Clint looked at him before letting his eyes fall to the ground again. Steve took that as a go-ahead. "She said that love is for children, but that if she had the chance to-" Steve choked up. He looked away from the man, forcing himself to continue as he studied a crack in the pavement. "She said that if she had the chance to do it all over again that she'd like to be a child with you, if only for a little while." Clint dug his nails into his knees, eyes drifting shut as his chest visibly heaved.
"She also wanted me to say that she had the time of her life in Budapest." Steve added after a moment. A miniscule smile danced across Clint's lips as he floated back in his memories.
"You and I remember Budapest very differently." That was what he told her during the Battle of Manhattan. Yes, he too had the time of his life in Budapest.
And if he had the chance to do it all over again, he didn't think he'd want to change a thing.
Note: So apparently this wasn't the edited version that I had saved, so I just read through it and corrected all the errors I thought I already fixed. Sorry about that and it should be a lot better now, grammatically and such.