The Widow of Black sat on the wall
The Widow of Black had a great fall
All the great fighters and all the great men
Couldn't put Tasha together again
He sat there, in a daze. Why did she have to be so damn brave? He wondered as he sat in the rubble, the damage of New York outside his bubble of numbness and pain. Why? He held in a cry of pain and rage. The image of the last hour flashed through his head.
"Nat, what are you doing?" His voice was calm, yet inside he felt absolute panic. What was she doing on top of that metal beast? What was she thinking?
"Uh, a little help?" She'd replied, ignorant of the turmoil she was causing her partner. Gritting his teeth, he pulled an arrow, aiming for Loki and his beast. But then, she'd made a mis-step. She'd made one little mistake. The Black Widow had fallen.
"NATASHA!" He was unaware of what happened next. The next thing he knew, she was falling through space. And for a second, just a second, everything seemed to be going in slow motion as she grabbed for a wire dangling from a building. But the chaos was causing her to slip. She was waiting. What was she waiting for? When he saw another metal beast soar underneath her, she took her chance, letting go of the wire, and landing with a clang, on top of the beast again. Not sure whether to feel relieved or more terrified, Clint yelled into his comms.
"Nat, try to get it over here! You can leap through the second story window." He tried to keep calm while his brain flitted through scenarios of how to get her safe.
"Alright." He could hear the almost resignation in her voice. What was she thinking now?" Suddenly the beast was right in front of him. He backed away instinctively, and saw Natasha holding on for dear life on its back. She opened her mouth and yelled something to him. "I can't control it! DUCK CLINT!" He did exactly as she said. Then he heard an explosion. He looked up. It was raining metal, and Natasha Romanoff was not in sight.
"Nat?" He called into his comms, struggling to keep his heart from pounding out its erratic beat of fear. She didn't answer.
"Barton, report. What's going on over there?" Steve Rodger's voice cut through his mind. He gazed over the side of the building and saw a familiar black clad figure on the ground, in the rubble of New York City. He gave a great cry.
"NAT!" He leaped from roof to roof, until he was able to leap down to the ground from a safe height. He raced to her body, lying prone on the ground, unmoving.
"What's going on?" Tony's voice crackled in the static of the comms unit.
"Black Widow is down, I repeat, Black Widow is down!" Clint practically screamed into the unit. In the background of all the units, he could here laser blasts and curses. But one voice seemed in command.
"Stark, get to Barton and Romanoff, I'll cover the perimeter best I can. Get moving." Sheer determination was in the Captain's voice. If Natasha was dead, he was going to make damn sure that she wouldn't die in vain.
"On my way Hawk boy, keep her breathing." Tony said and Clint could hear him changing course and jetting towards them.
"Come on Nat." Clint raised her head of the ground. She coughed, blood spilling from her mouth.
"Ouch." She hissed, breathing in sharply. "That is the last time I use a detonator on those things." He stared at her in wonder.
"Nat, you could have jumped, and ran. Why didn't you?"
"Why do you think-idiot?" her voice was weakening, but he could still hear the teasing tone to it.
"No idea Nat." He held her upright, trying to clear her airways. She had to be okay. She just had to.
"Because it was going to k-kill you Cli-Clint." She coughed again, more blood spilling out, her entire body seemed to be turning red, and her flaming hair was dulled with the dark liquid.
"Oh Nat…" He murmured. Her eyes began to close. "No Nat come on, keep your eyes open!" He begged, clutching her closer with one arm, while trying to hold the wound on her side that seemed to be seeping the life out of her.
"Tell Fury," She gave a massive cough, shaking her whole body, "That my ledger should be clean by now."
"Tasha, it's going to be more that clean, it's going to be pure white." He encouraged. "Now keep your eyes open. You have to see Fury's face when we come back." She gave a weak chuckle. "You have to get your medal, see Stark and Banner redecorate Stark Tower and then explode it within a day, you still have to meet Pepper, Tony's girlfriend, you have to come to the gym and beat the crap out of me every day, you have to live!"
"That sounds like fun…" She trailed off. Her eyes were closed again. Her chest had stopped its weak rising and falling. Holding back the frantic beating of his heart again, he called to her.
"Come on Nat keep breathing!" Stark appeared, and stared in astonishment. The great Hawkeye was in total panic mode.
"Move Barton." Tony gave him a slight shove to the side; Clint held Natasha's head in his lap, pleading with her to open her eyes. Tony was suddenly all business, grabbing a piece of fabric caught on a spoke sticking from the ground, he took it and wrapped it around the assassin's waist. "Keep her breathing Barton, CPR. Do it now."
He'd done as Stark had asked, pressing his mouth to hers, breathing air into her lungs. Compressions: 1, 2, 3 breathe. He kept it up until Tony gave a shudder.
"Barton, she's not going to wake up." This stopped Clint in his tracks.
"What?" He asked uncomprehendingly.
"She's dead Barton; she's not going to wake up." Tony's voice was unusually gentle.
The other Avengers heard the conversation over the comms and the response was immediate. Hulk gave a howl of rage and pain, smashing a massive robot snake to pieces. Steve steeled his gaze, and continued fighting, but with renewed vengeance. The Chituari aliens around him were demolished within seconds.
"She is NOT dead." Clint's voice broke slightly. Tony winced, turning his back to defend the two assassins and leaving Clint to his private grief, if only for a few minutes. Soldier instincts kicked in for Clint.
Check pulse, check the breath. Keep checking them. But his soldier instincts didn't lie. They never did. But they had to be. Because the Black Widow, was down. She'd fallen, and she was not going to get up. She had to get up. Clint felt his breathing hitch.
"Come on Nat, open your eyes, and breathe!" He all but yelled at the motionless girl lying in his lap. Why wasn't she moving? His chest constricted. He held her bodies tightly, quietly begging for her to come back, come back to the invasion, come back to her life, come back to him.
She didn't reply. And then, Clint Barton's heart simply broke in two. Tears rushed down his cheeks as he held her tight. "Tasha…" He whimpered.
"Stark, what's the verdict?" Rodger's voice was low, unheard by Clint, still rocking back and forth with his partner in his arms, blood covering both of them.
"Natasha!" Clint groaned, crushing the broken girl to his chest, unimaginable pain ripping through him.
"She didn't make it Captain." Tony replied quietly. "She didn't make it."
Clint Barton sat next to his fallen companion for a few more moments, listening to the sound of crashes and screams throughout the city. The numbness was retreating if only for a moment.
"Barton, there will be time to grieve. But right now we have a job to do." Steve's voice was sympathetic but firm.
Clint sat for another moment. His memory was cast back, if only for a moment of a man he'd met. The man had been dressed simply in a pinstriped suit and sneakers. But his eyes were ancient, as if they'd seen pain in loss in vast amounts; as if he'd seen the universe burn before his eyes. At that moment, even now, Clint knew that his pain (though vast and extreme) could not measure up to the pain so many others would feel after this war was over. And then Clint stood up. He eyes were hollow. Today was the day that Clint Barton's heart had been wrenched out of his chest and ripped to pieces. Shouldering his arrows, he gazed up at the sky, still swarming with monsters.
If he couldn't save her, then he was going to do the thing that she'd do for him. With one last look at his fallen companion, Clint pressed his lips to her cold head.
"I love you." He whispered. And then he pulled an arrow back in his bow. If he couldn't save her, he was definitely, going to avenger her.
He let the arrow fly.
