Your Breath Was in My Lungs
When Natasha didn't answer her door, Clint tried the ventilation system. She was crying. Natasha Romanov was crying. He slipped out of the vents, landing with a soft thud. Suddenly she turned, gun raised, to face him, tears still streaming down her face.
"Jesus, Clint, are you trying to get shot?" she holstered the gun.
"You wouldn't open your door."
"Yeah, well..." she broke completely into tears again, and Clint caught her, held her up, maneuvered them both until they were sitting on the couch.
"Hey, there," he rubbed her back in slow circles as she nestled into his shoulder. "What's going on?"
"She's gone. She couldn't or wouldn't leave him...and I can't get her out of my system. She's everywhere she..."
"Does she love you?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It's all that matters."
"I don't believe you."
"Call Coulson." Natasha tries to laugh and fails.
"Don't bring your boyfriend in to this, she's gone."
"Then why are you the one running away?"
"What do you mean?" Her face is a mixture of contempt and genuine curiosity. She has an idea what he means, but she's not quite sure, and Natasha Romanov, no matter how emotionally compromised, does not jump to conclusions.
"The mission you just volunteered for. Fury told me he'd been trying to keep you on short missions so you could continue to 'bond' with our teammates, but you specifically requested a longer deployment."
"I've been myself for far too long, Clint. It's not a good thing, it...hurts, and it leaves me weak, compromised."
"It's not a weakness to be human sometimes."
"Sometimes."
"You never answered my question, you know."
"Which one."
"Does she love you."
"I...I don't know, I think...maybe..." finally, with a sigh, she gives him a proper answer. "Yes. She does love me. And I love her. I've never...never loved anyone this way before" And with that she dissolves once more, and Clint holds her against his chest for hours.