The screams and gunshots have died down by the time Nat reaches the unassuming building just off a small, cobbled Italian side street. As she enters a short hallway, she tenses at the smell of blood and excrement. It's been a long time, but she instantly recognises it as the stench of death.

Steeling herself for what she's about to find, she keeps walking, trying not to remember what she did all those years ago.

The hallway turns right and opens into a large room. When she turns the corner, she has to swallow the urge to vomit. Bodies are strewn across the floor at unnatural angles, eyes open and unseeing; in the centre is Clint, crouching as he ruffles through the pockets of a man's jacket.

It isn't the carnage that gets to her. The loss of life is distressing, but Nat saw worse during her time with the KGB. No; the thing that twists her heart is the desperate rage boiling in her best friend's eyes.

After her defection, Clint was her pillar, trusting in her and acting as her moral compass while she was trying to sort right from wrong. Even after she developed her own moral code, he was there to keep her from drowning in the guilt of her past.

But that all changed a year ago. In the blink of an eye, he lost everything, sending him off the deep end. Now he's the one who's adrift and in need of a lifeline, and she's the one who needs to reel him in.

'Clint,' she says softly, the word carrying through the unnatural silence.

His voice flat, he doesn't even look up when he replies. 'Go home, Nat.'

She raises an eyebrow. 'Come with me.'

'There's nothing left for me there.'

That hurts, but she pushes the pain aside. 'There are our friends. There's me. We miss you.'

His hands don't stop searching through the jacket. 'You and Wanda were the only ones I was ever close with. She's gone, and you don't need me anymore.'

'Yes, I do. And not just me. The world needs the Avengers now more than ever.'

Clint pulls something from the jacket — a flash drive. Slipping it into his own pocket, he rises, meeting her eyes for the first time since her arrival. 'Our job was to protect the world where we could and avenge it where we couldn't. It's too late now for protection, and I'm avenging it well enough by myself.'

'This isn't what Laura would have wanted for you.'

'Neither is going back.'

The shrill sound of a distant police siren pierces through the silence outside, and they both tilt their heads towards the door.

She's running out of time.

'If he ever comes back, I'll be there to help, but that's all. Other than that, the only way you're taking me back is in a body bag.' He opens his arms to show that he's unarmed and stands there, waiting.

There is no give in his expression; only a challenge. She knows in an instant that he's deathly serious. He won't kill her, but he won't stop unless she kills him.

Some would say that she should, and maybe they're right. But if there's one thing she knows for certain, it's that she never could. 'Don't be an idiot.'

When he drops his arms, she swears she sees disappointment flash across his face.

It's the most heartbreaking thing she's ever seen, but it also gives her hope. Before Clint found her, she was taking on increasingly risky missions, part of her hoping she wouldn't return. Yet, somehow, he got through to her.

He isn't ready for her to do the same for him, but one day, he may be.

'I wish I could stay, but I can't watch you do this,' Nat says. 'But if you ever need me, you know my number. I'll come to you as soon as I can, no questions asked.'

He says nothing, and she can tell he won't call. Still, the important thing is that he knows he can.

The siren is still faint, but it's steadily growing louder.

'We need to leave. Did you get what you came for?'

'Yes.' Clint places a hand on the pocket where he put the flash drive. 'There's a back exit that comes out near a sewer entry. We can follow it out.'

'Lead the way.'

He does.

As they leave, she tries not to look at any of the bodies.

Hopefully, one day, he'll get to the point where she can lead him out.