So this is one of those accidental fics. It came from my complete skepticism that a blow to the head would really fix the tesseract mind control. I started wondering what would have happened if it hadn't worked, and this little ball of agony was born. I apologize in advance.
"Is she still in there?"
"Hasn't so much as twitched since they brought him in."
"Who is he?"
"A sniper, I think? From what Fury said, he was the one standing guard over the Tesseract."
"Well, whoever he is, Romanoff cares more about him than I've ever seen her care about anything."
"That might be a problem. I saw the wound. I don't think he's going to make it."
"Stark, would you just leave it alone?"
"Someone needs to find out what happened."
"What's to find out? They fought. She won. Give her some peace."
"That doesn't explain why he's dead. Why didn't she just incapacitate him? Knock him out?"
"He was brainwashed. He was trying to kill her, it was the heat of the moment—"
"You've clearly never seen this woman fight. Rogers, I would bet my legacy that the Black Widow hasn't killed someone accidentally since she was a pre-teen. Something else happened up there."
"Sir."
"Gentlemen, we have a problem."
"Really? 'Cause it all seems like sunshine and rainbows from where I'm sitting."
"Can it, Stark."
"Agent Romanoff is AWOL."
"Since when?"
"As soon as the medical team called it on Agent Barton. If Agent Romanoff has gone rogue or hostile, and I would not put either one past her right now, our situation is about to get a whole lot worse."
"Here's how this is going to go. You're going to get in this jet and take me to Manhattan, or I am going to—"
"Agent Romanoff."
"You stay out of this."
"Let the pilot go."
"Can't do that. I need to get to Loki, and I can't fly one of these jets on my own."
"I can."
"Do not fuck with me right now, Coulson, that is a very bad idea."
"I'm serious, Natasha. Put down the gun and we'll go get the son of a bitch, just as soon as you tell me what your plan is."
"I was planning on seeing if his immortality extends to decapitation."
"Okay, I've got it."
"What?"
"Audio from their fight. JARVIS found some live microphones in your system that I'm sure are supposed to be a secret, and he managed to piece together a relatively clean audio track."
"We do not have time for this."
"All due respect, which in your case, Fury, is practically none, but did you maybe want to have a clue what Romanoff's going through before you write her off completely?"
"You can't come with me."
"Why not? I've got as much right as you to throw my life away on a pointless suicide mission. Let's go."
"Phil."
"Natasha, I am sorry Barton is dead. I'm sorry you couldn't save him. But this isn't going to help."
"You don't understand. I owe him. I've owed him since the day I met him and I never… I never…"
"I understand. But this isn't the way to repay him, Nat. You're not going to get anywhere near Loki, and you know it."
"…He's all I had, Phil."
Crash.
"Tasha?"
Another crash. An agonized scream from Clint.
"Tasha! Tasha, he's inside me! I could see—"
"It's okay, we're going to get you help."
"No! No, Tasha, you have to kill me."
"That's not going to happen, Barton."
"Please! Tasha, he's going to make me kill you; I can't stop it. All those men…"
"We'll figure out something. Lock you up—"
"No, Tasha, I'm not going to be lucid much longer, please, you have to do it now."
"I said it's never. going. to happen."
The sound of a scuffle.
"No! Barton, drop the knife."
"Can't do that. It's you or me, Natasha, he's not going to stop until one of us is dead, and maybe I could live with killing all those agents, but you..."
"Clint, you drop that knife this second."
"I'm sorry."
"No! No, Clint!"
A thud. A long pause.
"…It might be kind of a dick move to wait until now to say this. But I love you, Tasha."
"Damnit, Clint, hold still."
"Too late, sweetheart. Got myself pretty good there. Would you please just look at me?"
Silence.
"That's all there is until the medics get there. Well, JARVIS said he thinks there's some whispering, but it's totally unintelligible."
"…Damn."
"I don't see how this changes anything."
"Well, personally, I don't think a bit of a breakdown is totally unreasonable for Romanoff right now. How about we give her some time before we assume she's planning to kill us all?"
"I appreciate the vote of confidence, Stark."
"Agent Romanoff."
"Director Fury. No, I don't want to hear it. I'm fine. Let's move on, please."
"…"
"Please? If it's me you're worried about, believe me, we'll all be better off if you help me kill that bastard Loki."
"Okay. Here's where we stand…"
"Would you please just look at me?"
Natasha knelt on the hard metal grate, one hand pressing into Clint's abdomen, submerged in his blood, while the other smoothed his hair back from his face. She didn't even register the tears she was dripping onto his cheek, but he did. He cherished every one. As dying went, he thought, this wasn't a bad way to go. His had lost enough blood now that it didn't hurt anymore. Everything was numb, his senses were going dull, and everything seemed to hone in on the beautiful woman crying over his body.
"Natasha," he whispered, unable to work up a stronger voice. "Please. Just say it once. I need to hear it one time."
"No." Her voice shook uncontrollably.
"Please? Natalia? I'm sorry. I really didn't see another w—"
"Clint?"
But he was unconcious. Natasha wiped her eyes with a bloody hand, and the next thing she was aware of, she was surrounded by medics scurrying uselessly around her only friend's body. She followed them to the infirmary, but she knew he was already lost. He was gone.
It took three years, to the day, but Natasha Romanoff finally stood on the site of Clint Barton's memorial. As she reached out to run her fingers over his name.
"I love you," she murmured.
It took three years, but she finally told him what he wanted to hear.
"I forgive you."
Yeah, sorry about that... I love to make you feel all the things!