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I stared ahead at the now empty rooftop as I heard the lift doors close. Steve, Maria, Sam and Tony were in there, as well as one of the Iron Man suits. Everybody else had used the stairs.

"Steve, what the hell are you doing?"

Clint's voice echoed in my ears and I shut my eyes.

"They forget I'm human. Nothing...there's nothing here to make me happy."

I was frozen, stuck as I watched the scene playing before me. Steve on the edge of the rooftop, his life in the balance. Clint and Maria beside me trying to calm him down.

"I just want to go back...to when things were normal. And there's all this pressure because everyone is hovering around me, waiting for me to do something, or say something, or flip out, or mess up, or yell, or cry some more about how upset I am for living in this time."

My body was glued to the floor, my feet cemented into the ground.

"And I want to say that I'm happy to play my part, I'm happy to say the lines and do whatever it is that I'm supposed to be doing if it will make everyone feel more comfortable. But I don't...I don't know how to do it anymore. I don't know how to be that person."

I understood him. I had lost myself a long time ago to the spy I became. I wasn't Natalia or Natasha, but someone else.

"I don't know who this person is. I'm meant to be Steve Rogers, but he's Captain America. It doesn't...I...How did this happen? How did I end up here? Why am I alone? Everything I've ever cared about is gone. Ruined, dead!"

His screams echoed in my ears and I tried to ignore the way my heart clenched at how broken he sounded.

"The commandos, Peggy, Bucky. Dead! They're all dead! I have never been more alone. I have nothing. No one! It's all gone!"

I listened as the elevator made its way down to the Avengers floor. "Nat," Clint called from behind me. I flinched at the sound of his voice and for the first time in five minutes, I had moved.

"You're not alone," Maria told him, over and over and over again, but he was shaking his head. "And we...we accept you. You think you're a failure, don't you?"

"The serum worked..."

"I'm not talking about the serum, I'm talking about you," she replied, her voice harsher than before, like the one you would expect from a headteacher when you had been called into their office. "I'm talking about the fact that you wake up every morning and you do good, you don't sit around wasting your life away, you help us. We'd be nothing without you."

"I really need you to step away from the edge for me Steve..."

I remembered the tears in his eyes, the quick speed that his chest rose and fell at and the shaking in his hands.

"Are you going to finish your life, here, falling off the edge of a building...or are you going to step off the ledge and finish it in battle, being strong and fighting for others, because that's what Steve Rogers would do. Even though you feel like this is the end, are you not still here? You are still here. With us. With me. You don't have to do this alone."

The silence had echoed across the rooftop and it felt like noise would never be made again. It made me nervous. I flinched as I remembered the way Pepper shouted.

"No, no, no, NO!" Pepper shouted as his body fell backwards over the edge.

I slowly turned around to see my partner standing there, a concerned look on his face as he stared at me. "Do you need anything?"

I shook my head immediately, but we both knew I was lying. I needed a shower and my partner. Nothing else. I didn't want the team, I didn't need a counsellor and I didn't see the point in sticking around. Steve had attempted to kill himself and I wasn't in the mood for being the version of Natasha Romanoff that was accepted.

He held his hand out to me, but I couldn't force myself to move from where I was. I opened my mouth to talk, but I was stuck. Dead. Steve tried to...he...I wasn't...

He walked forward and gently stroked my fingers making me gasp at how warm he was compared to the chilling air of the outdoors. He laced his hand into mine and gave me the smallest tug to get me moving.

He guided me over to the stairs and opened the door for me, stroking the back of my hand to calm me. I felt like I was in a trance, not knowing how to make a single decision. That's why I had Clint for times like this.

It happened to me very occasionally. I would go into a complete trance state, sometimes not even remembering what had happened. I would be triggered by something and feel myself seize up, so when I saw him standing on the edge of that rooftop...my mind went blank.

I had no clue about him, that was the worst. I saw how torn up he was in his apartment, but I had been too late to check on him. Too late. It was the fact he wanted to die that struck me, right to my core. How could he think he was so invaluable?

The reason why I felt so disrupted by it was that I had felt that low before, during my time in the red room and afterwards. Not anymore.

"The others will need to speak with me, but I'll come and join you in our room as soon as I can, okay?" he asked, clearing me from the smoke that was fogging around my head. I didn't realise that we had now walked all the way down the stairs and entered the living room, many of the Avengers across the room from us.

I didn't even nod as I left for our room, feeling my body sobering up from my disillusioned state.

Stupid. Stupid. I mentally scolded myself for being so blind to Steve's pain. I knew there was nothing I could've done but been there for him, but I felt like I wasn't. When we were standing on the floating rock of Sokovia, looking out at the view like no other, I didn't realise that the view he was looking at must've been similar to the one he saw before his 'death'.

The range of emotions he must've felt could've broken a normal man, the uselessness, motivation, disappointment, guilt, regret, anger, emptiness, culpability...depression.

How could I not have seen it? I was meant to notice everything around me and I couldn't see how depressed he really was. I think, even though it could be difficult for some to hear, Wanda's powers could've exacerbated the emotions he was feeling, which caused him to go to the rooftop. Thank goodness Tony's suits had stopped him from falling.

"Tasha." I flinched for the second time today, Clint's voice shocking me. I quickly snapped around and stared at him, feeling my breathing race slightly at the surprise. I didn't even hear him enter.

"Clint," I whispered. My breath hitched as he stepped closer, opening his palms upwards for me to put mine on. I hesitated for a second before I did, touching my fingertips with his ones that were marred from the years of using a bow.

My eyes looked up at him and I watched as he stared down sorrowfully at me. He wasn't being sympathetic, just kind. All the pain and misery and loneliness that Clint had been through had just made him kind.

He squeezed my palms and showed a small, noninvasive smile to me. I knew he would eventually ask, so I told him. "I rarely get scared," I said, keeping my eyes focused on one of the floor tiles to keep my eyes away from his. "When I saw Steve, my mind panicked and I couldn't move."

I sighed and shook my head, feeling my hands tremble slightly as I thought about what happened on the rooftop. 'There's nothing here to make me happy'. "He doesn't deserve to feel that way."

"I think Wanda did something to his brain," he replied, regret in his voice. He cared dearly for the twins and it was sad to see him so sad that one of them had done wrong. He cleared his throat, stroking my wrists with his thumbs. "Steve will get better, I'm sure of it."

I nodded and bit my lip in thought. How were we going to fix our Captain? "Do you want to shower?" he asked, slipping his hands away from mine. I almost jolted when he finally pulled back, his skin no longer touching mine.

I nodded and Clint began to move, but I reached for his arm. He turned his head and frowned. "What's wrong?" he asked with confusion in his tone. He went to reach his hand out again, but I saw how he lowered it almost immediately.

"Can you sit outside while I shower? I don't want to be alone." What was wrong with me? Since when had I become so timid and feeble? I felt like I need protection, his protection. I wanted him with me, in the shower, but not for any sexual reason. I had felt like this only a few times, needing Clint's protection. I knew that I would be okay in the morning.

He looked apprehensive at answering but nodded his head. "Of course." I knew that I couldn't bulldoze him into something he didn't want to do, so I knew his reply was genuine. Nobody could coax Clint into doing something he was against, which was one of the reasons I admired him.

I walked over to the bathroom, hardly noticing that I still had my grip on Clint's forearm. I switched on the light and blinked at the brightness of it. My eyes went directly to the mirror and observed how my tight, black dress was crumpled slightly and one of the straps was falling off of my shoulder.

I looked up at Clint who was looking at the necklace around my neck, the arrow he gave to show his affection. "Should I wait outside for you to change?" he asked and I smiled briefly at his manners.

"Just turn around," I said, walking into the bathroom. Clint followed behind me and immediately turned to face the door as he shut it. Clint would always respect me. Always.

I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding as I pushed the dress down my body. The room was so quiet and I couldn't stop watching Clint. Before I could stop myself, I walked towards him. I stopped, about two feet away.

I knew he could hear my breathing and how close I stood behind him. He turned his head to the side slightly and I could barely see the tip of his nose with how his head was angled. "Are you alright?" he asked in a hushed tone.

I sighed and moved forward another step, deciding in the moment that I needed something...I didn't know quite what it was that I needed, but I needed it. I needed Clint.

I rested my forehead against his clothed back, Clint still wearing the suit, and closed my eyes. It was calming, just being in his presence. Us alone was all I felt I needed. I didn't know if it was a romantic notion or not, but I felt like he was the air I needed to breathe.

My left arm snuck around his waist, my hand slipping through the layer of his coat and touching the soft material of his shirt. I slowly eased him round to face me, pulling slightly at his white shirt.

He didn't look at me, even if I was only in my underwear. Surprisingly, I didn't feel vulnerable. I felt safe in his company. I knew it was unfair to do this to him and tease him in the way I did, but we both knew I didn't mean it sexually.

I pushed my head against Clint's firm chest and put my arms around his waist. His arms sheltered around my body, warm and secure.

We stayed there for a few moments before I sighed. "I should shower," I whispered, pulling my arms from his middle and turning around to step into the shower. I saw Clint give me a small smile before I shut the shower curtain.

I took off my underwear and opened up part of the curtain to drop them outside. I couldn't wait to feel the water pour over my skin. I heard Clint sit on the toilet seat and I quickly turned the shower on.

Cold. I flinched and took a few steps back, reaching to turn the water to a hotter temperature. I put my wrist out to feel the water drop on sensitive fingertips. When it felt at a comfortable temperature, I stepped underneath the shower and hummed as I let the water run over me, through my hair.

I heard Clint clear his throat. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, reaching for the shampoo and opening it.

As I washed and rinsed my hair, my mind went to the time-off that Clint suggested earlier. That wouldn't be possible now that Steve had tried to kill himself. We would all need to be there for him.

I wanted that time with Clint, especially recently. Part of me wanted him to be in the shower with me, just to hold me. I would never push him that far though. I shut my eyes and scolded my mind.

The affection I felt was unrequited and I didn't have time for any kind of romance in my life. I shook my head and quickly washed the rest of my body.

"Could you grab me a towel?" I asked, holding my arms across me as if to stop myself being cold. He opened a section of the shower curtain and his hand poked through, white towel in hand. I pushed down the part in my gut to pull his hand closer and me and bring him in the shower.

I shook my head and quickly snatched the towel from him. I couldn't feel this way. The damage put to me by the Red Room wouldn't allow me to do that. It could only stay with my imagination.

I wrapped the towel around me and pulled the curtain back, stepping out on the floor. I nearly slipped but managed the grip the arm Clint held out to me. I quickly let go and secured the towel around me.

My mind was back to my thoughts again. I knew they were wrong, but I would have to talk to someone about it. Maria would straighten me out.

"Do you want me to make dinner?" Clint asked as we stood there, slightly awkwardly.

I shook my head, walking past to leave the bathroom, grabbing another small towel on the way in order to dry my hair. Sighing, I entered Clint's room. He would've unpacked by now, but I hadn't.

Opening the first drawer I saw, I groaned and quickly shut the drawer of jeans. I smiled as I opened the second drawer, satisfied to see that I had found his shirts. Picking up one of his many baggy purple shirts, I walked out of the room.

Clint was waiting outside and slightly befuddled as I took his hand and led him into the room next door - my room. "Face the door," I told him and I didn't need to turn to know that he did.

I took some lace panties and slipped them on, the purple t-shirt following by sliding it over my head. I grabbed the other towel I took and flipped my hair down, swiftly wrapping it up in a turban to keep it out of my face.

I took a breath and touched the necklace I was wearing, breathing as I felt it pressed against my chest, a comfort. Looking up at Clint, I felt a pull in my gut, pushing myself towards him. I just needed him to stay with me and hold me.

Weakness wasn't usually something that I admitted to, but in that moment, I felt the weakest I had in a long time. I lifted his left arm up slightly as I snuck around him, keeping my right arm around his back.

Hugging him, I heard his heart beat loudly in his chest. I shut my eyes as I felt his fingertips lightly stroke up and down my forearm. "Don't go," I whispered, gritting my teeth afterwards as my pathetic voice echoed in my head.

"Never," he replied, equally quiet as mine. His strong arms were around my waist, supporting my weight as I leant my entire body weight on top of him. Tiredness rushed through me and I felt my energy drain towards the floor.

"Come on," he said. I didn't open my eyes but felt him bend my knees and use one of his arms to reach underneath my knees to sweep me off of the ground. Holding me close to his chest, he carried me over to our bed.

My head lolled against it, but I didn't mind the small annoyance, too exhausted to complain. I lay on the bed and used my feet to push away the bed covers with little effort. I felt it become easier, though I think it was Clint's doing and not my own. I rolled over on my front, the baggy t-shirt I was wearing being just enough to cover me.

I felt the bed dip beside me from where Clint crawled in next to me. "All I need is sleep," I moaned, cuddling the pillow that was extremely soft. I was yet to have a night of sleep in the bed, but I could tell it was going to be comfortable.

"Then food and a nap after that," he added. Clint loved his naps. I don't know how he would survive without them. Maybe that was what gave him his strength. Clint Barton - powered by naps.

I groaned and flipped onto my other side, letting my arm fall against his chest and my head landed on his shoulder. I didn't expect him to be naked, but then again, I knew that he slept that way. I had come into his room many times when he had nightmares and finding him just in his boxers.

"Night Clint..." I mumbled, lips slightly muffled against him. Goodness, I was incredibly tired. I could feel myself nodding off as I spoke, only hearing one word before I slipped into sleep.

"Night Nat."

The next morning

I woke up slowly, comfortable and in peace. It was warm, warmer than usual. I lifted my head, finding it laid against something hard. When I managed to look up, I noticed I had fallen asleep on Clint, his arms surrounding my body. One hand was rested on my naked thigh and twitched once or twice before relaxing. I rolled my eyes, the dream he was having most likely being of pulling and releasing his beloved arrows.

"God," I whispered, slumping back against his shoulder and thought about the huge pile of shit we were in. Clint groaned slightly and turned towards me in his sleep. His leg slipped in between mine, bringing the one his hand hovered above over his. My eyes widened at our intertwined legs and I felt a little bit of fear strike through me, shivering at how intimate we were being, not that he seemed to be aware.

He mumbled something incoherently, his eyelids twitched as his head turned. I looked down at his kind face. He opened his mouth, soft snores emitting from it, and I tried not to laugh at how sweet it was.

My forearm supported me as I looked down at him, watching as his eyes fluttered open. I just stayed there. His eyes blinked a few times as he smiled up at me. I must've looked awful - my hair was a mess, my makeup was most likely smudged with sleep and I could feel how my eyelids dipped.

"Morning," he said, his smile rising slightly as he did showing the slightest bit of teeth. It was more of a moan than a normal hello to me. His voice was deep and raspy from sleep. I liked the way his voice sounded in the morning.

"Morning," I replied lazily. I shuffled backwards, pulling my leg out from Clint's, and leant back to lie down next to the archer. My mind wouldn't stop flowing. "Goodness knows what today's going to bring."

"You can take the day off if you wish," he replied, almost smirking at the idea of taking a day off. We never would. He knew me, too well.

"I think I've had enough sentiment and weakness. I need to go back to being Widow, especially considering the party tonight."

"Five more minutes?" I knew what he was asking for. He was asking for five more minutes of Tasha. I rolled my eyes and sunk down next to him, my arm going around his waist to touch his bare skin. Resting my head on his shoulder, I let out a sigh and closed my eyes.

"Three minutes," I stated and he knew not to argue back with me, understanding that if he bargained for four he would have no time with me like this. I was weak and vulnerable, but he wasn't taking advantage.

Part of me wanted it too, but I knew I would be hopeless if I didn't get the Natalia part of me back. The Widow kept me sane. The difficult part was telling whether it was something that I genuinely wanted or whether it was programmed into my brain. My brain...was heavy with problems. I needed to find some kind of clarity.

"Can I ask you a question? I think I know the answer, but I want you to answer anyway." I rolled onto my side, partner looking at partner. He looked tired, probably because he had just woken up, but I noticed his raised eyebrow, waiting for my answer.

"Go on," he prompted and I pulled my lips together, thinking whether I should ask the question I had on my mind. I soon felt the question leave my lips anyway, like my mind had no control over me.

"Would you rather be feared or loved?" The question was clear and crisp in the air. I saw the frown that grew on his brow.

"I thought you were being Natasha for the next three minutes," he argued, not sounding in the least bit angry. Clint never really got angry with me. He had been angry with Fury, Maria and perhaps even Coulson at one point, but he had yet to be angry at me. Maybe it was because he knew how the Red Room had treated me so badly.

I briefly looked round to check the clock before looking back at him. "Two and a half and counting. This is Natasha," I answered, gesturing to my body with my free hand.

His frown stayed for a second but smoothed out as he nodded, believing my answer. He pouted his lips a little and looked at the ceiling, thinking about the answer to give. "I think I would rather be feared."

He was lying and the others would most likely agree. Clint was an affectionate person from the way that he made cups of tea for people to the way he would desperately go out of his way to keep people safe. "You?" he prompted. "Not that I really need to ask."

I didn't answer. I was afraid that part of me actually wanted love over fear. It scared me so much and I didn't want to.

Another part that made me want to refuse to answer was the last thing he said - 'not that I really need to ask'. I felt slightly disappointed in myself, even though it logically wasn't my fault. I had been programmed that way, to strike fear into the hearts of many whether they be innocent or not.

Obviously, with the Avengers I would only target the guilty, but it did make me sad how my life hadn't been a normal one. I had never been able to engage all my emotion. It made me wonder how different my life would be if I wasn't taken in by HYDRA.

I could've been a secretary or a teacher or a chemist. I clenched the muscles in my chest to ease the pain in my heart. It was pointless to think about that life, the life that would never exist for me. I had what I had and that was it. Life was life and I was the Black Widow.

I looked at the clock, remembering the book that was tucked into the same set of drawers in his room. I made a mental note to get started on writing the list of people that he saved. "Three minutes is up and my answer is double fear. I want people to be afraid of how much they fear me."

"How like the Widow of you to answer," he replied, his spirit sounding slightly trodden upon, as I walked towards the door. I had to clench my heart muscles in order to keep control again. I felt sorry for Clint. I wondered whether all he wanted was a partner that wasn't me sometimes. I was damaged. He was too but it wasn't nearly as much as me. He needed someone else.

"I know..." I responded, opening the door. I gave him a small smile. "Now get out."

He sneered at me, but I could see the smile on his face. "So rude," he quipped with a wink and walked into his room without looking back. Poor Clint. Stuck with someone like me. I shook my head and shut the door, deciding that I should at least cook the poor man some breakfast.

Okay...I know it's late. I think I'm going to stop pressuring myself to get chapters out. To be honest, it'll probably motivate me to write them more. If you would like the FULL STORY ON STEVE then head over to my account and find the current one on Maria and Steve.

Please inform me of any mistakes I have written and how I could improve on my storywriting! Also, I'm going to start doing songs for each chapter.

Song: Don't Go - Wretch 32

Please make sure to review as this chapter alone took me five hours and I only get a couple of reviewers each chapter! Thank you all for your support 3 LOVE YA! :P