I in no way claim to be an expert on the Black Widow, so please forgive me if I took too many liberties with her character or back story. There is a bit of an adult scene but not graphic.

Chapter 16: Coping

******The Next Day******

Burying Sara was rough on all of them. When it was over, Oliver stood at the grave looking down. It was hard to believe she was really gone. She'd been larger than life. Laurel came and stood next to him. No words were spoken for several minutes.

"I feel like this is a dream, and she will come knocking on my door with that smile of hers," Laurel said her tears finally spent. "Her smile could light up a room."

"Yes," Oliver acknowledged, his lips turned up in a resemblance of a smile.

Laurel was silent again. Then she put her hand on his arm, and he turned to look at her. "Ollie, find out who did this," she ordered.

"I will," Oliver vowed.

"Promise me that you'll tell me when you do," Laurel said. "I must see her killer punished and brought to justice."

Oliver was torn. What if he was wrong about his sister? He couldn't betray her. Yet didn't he owe Laurel this? "We'll find out what happened. I promise," he said, not exactly promising what she wanted.

A dark rage grew in Laurel. Oliver saw it, but he knew that he couldn't be the one to help her through this. He had enough of his own rage, but he squeezed her hand. "We'll get through this," he said before turning to leave her alone.

Laurel couldn't move. She kept looking down at the hole her sister now laid in. The scene was eerily familiar. However, this time the body was in there. Was that better or worse?

"Sara is gone," a voice said. Laurel looked up and recognized Nyssa, the woman Sara loved.

"Someone took her from us," Laurel said, a look of fury and bitterness on her face.

"They will pay," Nyssa vowed, her eyes cold and determined.

Laurel looked at the woman in gratitude. Unlike Oliver, Laurel knew this woman would take her desire to learn seriously. "Will you teach me how to fight like Sara? I want to be ready," she said. "Sara's killer must get what they deserve."

Nyssa nodded. She knew from Sara exactly how strong her sister was, and she would mold her into a weapon. Sara would be avenged.

*******The Foundry*******

Diggle went home with Layla after the funeral. He wanted to be with the people who meant the most to him. Spending time with Layla and their unborn child meant even more now.

Roy convinced Thea to go to dinner to catch up. When she agreed, he didn't even care that she included Clint. He just wanted a chance to be with her since he'd missed her so much. Oliver, Felicity, Steve, and Natasha went to the foundry. Felicity knew Oliver would want to blow off some steam. Oliver and Steve began sparring while Felicity was showing Natasha her system.

Felicity was surprised how much Natasha knew about computers. "You're pretty knowledgeable," she remarked.

"I'm more than a pretty face," Natasha said with a wink. "Fury made sure I knew how to get in and out of pretty much any system. Usually, I had to do it very quickly."

The two women shared hacking tales while Oliver took out his fury on Steve.

Steve knew about loss and impotent rage, so he gave Oliver the fight he was looking for. The fight that he needed. They started with staffs and exchanged furious blows until Oliver broke his staff. Then they went hand to hand, and Steve was hard pressed for the first time. Oliver was relentless. Steve let him keep pushing until Oliver finally fell to his knees exhausted.

Oliver put his head in his hands. "I can't believe she's dead," he said, his voice breaking. Steve put his hand on Oliver's shoulder. He stayed there a few minutes, so Oliver wouldn't have to mourn alone.

Eventually, Natasha brought water bottles and handed them to the two men. Steve gave her a smile of thanks. He walked over to Felicity, who was looking on in concern.

"Is he okay?" she asked Steve.

Steve grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. "He will be," he said. "But he's going to have to work through this on his own."

"I don't want to leave him alone," Felicity said, looking on. Natasha had sat down Indian style on the mat next to him.

"He's not alone. Nat will stay with him for a bit. Then she'll leave him to work through it. Grief can only be shared so much," Steve said knowingly. "You can't always be what he needs."

Felicity knew what he meant. As much as she loved Oliver, her heart belonged to Steve, so she couldn't do any more for him than she already was. "Oliver, we'll see you in the morning," she called out to him.

He looked up and nodded. She let Steve lead her to the stairs.

When they were alone, Natasha waited for Oliver to speak. She had sat down next to him in silence, waiting. He seemed numb. As a child in Russia, she'd seen so many horrors. Until she'd met Clint, she'd been so numb. She understood what he was feeling, so she waited.

"Did you know this was the third time I've mourned Sara's death?" Oliver asked, looking at her with tear-filled eyes.

"No, I didn't," she said quietly, knowing he needed to speak.

"When the Gambit went down, I saw her swept out to sea," he shared, his eyes far away as he remembered the first most horrible scene of his life. "I tried and failed to save her. Then she died again in front of me on the island, and now this. But this time I know she's gone and not coming back. It seems I'm destined to fail at saving the women I love. I couldn't save Shado. I couldn't my mother. I couldn't save Sara." His voice finally broke as he turned from her and wept bitterly.

Natasha waited. She didn't try to give him empty words of comfort. She didn't promise him anything—she was just there. When he was done, he wiped his eyes and drained his water bottle. He seemed surprised to see she was still there—as if he'd forgotten her presence as he was lost in his pain. Usually women didn't want to stay for the ugly side of his life. They didn't wait for him to stop hurting. Laurel didn't. Sara didn't. Not even Felicity had because he had waited too long to pull her close. Did he want to make the same mistake with Natasha?

It was like she read his mind. She stood up and held out her hand to him. He took it, and then she was in his arms, kissing him like no one in his life ever had. She wasn't kissing Ollie, the man he used to be. She wasn't kissing Oliver Queen the CEO with all the money and power. She was kissing him, Oliver, the broken sometimes hero, who wanted so desperately to redeem his family and save his city as well as his soul.

Natasha Romanoff found herself in the unusual position of being moved so completely by someone else's pain. Oliver Queen was a man who carried many burdens. As he mourned his ex-lover, she couldn't help but wonder if any of her ex-lovers would ever mourn her the same way? She thought of Clint, who this man reminded her of in so many ways. However, he was more like her—broken—or at least the way she'd been when Clint had found her. Unfortunately, she'd been unable to love Clint the way he'd wanted. Instead of casting her aside, though, he'd pulled her close in a new way. He'd given her a family. One that meant everything to her. Oliver's relationship with Felicity was very much like hers with Clint. Stepping aside and allowing Felicity to love and be happy with Steve showed how truly selfless he was.

How could she not be moved by this man? His pain, his strength, his burdens moved her. How could she keep him from getting too close?

She finally quit trying and kissed him the way she'd never kissed any man. She wasn't the operative. The Black Widow wasn't there between them because this wasn't a job or a mission. Instead, she was simply Natasha, a woman longing to be close to a man who'd been through so much yet still cared so completely. In this moment, she was weak, allowing herself to be wanted by him. Selfishly, she allowed herself to want something for herself—she wanted him.

So, she took him.

They came together with both passion and fury. Her legs went around him as he moved to a wall, pounding into her—their eyes locked. When it was over, they stood gasping for air. Both more than a little shocked by the fury, the intensity. Then his hand cupped her cheek, and he smiled. His eyes focused on her with laser-like precision. It was as if it that moment no man had really seen her before him. He was gentle as he moved her back to the mat and knelt down, tugging her to her knees.

His hands moved slowly over her, arousing her, loving her. He touched her like she was precious, like he was in awe that she was there with him. Then his lips found hers, kissing her slowly until the passion built once again. Yet even then, he was gentle and sweet. His sweetness brought tears to her eyes. It'd been too long since anyone loved her or rather made her feel loved.

When he was inside her once again and moved over her, his eyes never left her. She couldn't escape him as they bore into her, stripping her bare. She came apart whispering his name on a gasp. He followed soon after, pouring his passion one final time in a kiss that left her breathless. Then he laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms and slept. The ghosts and burdens chased away as he, for once, fell into a dreamless slumber.

However, for Natasha sleep was an elusive mistress. She had sought to bring him comfort, but she was the one left stripped bare. Frightened of what he stirred inside her, she slipped away. In silence, she dressed, looking down at him. He seemed so young in sleep, so at peace. With one last glance, she quietly left Oliver Queen to his much needed rest.

******The Four Seasons******

Thea suggested they eat at one of the restaurants in the hotel she and Clint were staying in. Roy didn't care—he just wanted to be close to her. She had changed his life. Her faith and love gave him the first real hope he'd ever had that the world—his city—could be a better place. Then her brother had saved his life, and he'd been consumed with a desire to make a difference the way the vigilante was in the Glades. How could he have known that by working with one Queen he'd lose the other? If he could do it all over again, though, he didn't know if he'd do anything differently. She was so much better than him, and he wanted to be the kind of man who could protect her. Someone, she could be proud to call her own.

Now she was looking at him through a mask. He'd seen her speak to countless others through the façade of the Queen daughter. However, he'd not seen that persona since he'd stolen her purse. With him, she'd only ever been Thea. Now, though, he sensed that she was more. The way she held herself, the way she'd selected a table in the corner away from any exits spoke volumes to Roy. Now her gaze swept over the room looking for hidden dangers. This watchfulness wasn't a part of the woman he'd known and loved.

Hawkeye seemed to get all her smiles. Roy didn't care. He was just grateful to be close to her once again. They were meant to be. He believed this with every fiber of his being, so he'd wait for her understanding, her forgiveness. He tried not to let it bother him when she flirted so openly with Clint. He had no right to be jealous.

Ignoring Clint, he tried to connect with her. "So no one told me about the cop thing," he shared.

Thea was drinking her third glass of wine when he made his confession. "You didn't know you killed a cop?" she asked in disbelief.

"I was injected with the drug that made Slade's supersoliders. I don't remember much," he admitted, looking ashamed. "I'd been having these dreams, though. Some part of me knew I'd killed someone. When Felicity and Dig finally told me what I did, I was relieved."

"Because you knew the truth?" she figured.

He shook his head. "Because I was afraid that maybe they were memories of killing Sara," he confessed, glancing at Clint, who remained impassive and thoughtful.

Thea looked shocked. "You thought you might've killed Sara without knowing it?" she asked in dismay. "That's insane!"

"Yeah, tell me about it. Killing a cop, a good man, a father, is bad enough," Roy said, hating himself.

Clint watched as Thea tried hard to remain indifferent to this young man that she loved. He had known there had been someone. Someone who had hurt her. However, he now knew things weren't as simple as he supposed, so he decided to give them some privacy.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go to the bathroom," he said, getting up.

Thea glared at him for leaving her alone with Roy—something she'd been trying valiantly to avoid. As soon as they were alone, Roy moved to the seat next to her, begging her with his eyes. "Thea, please forgive me," he begged. "The Arrow was afraid for your safety while I was on the drug. He thought me pushing you away would be the best thing. He was wrong."

"Yes, he was," Thea said angrily. This vigilante had a lot to answer for.

"I wanted to tell you the truth from the beginning. About my involvement with the Arrow, what we were doing—all of it," Roy said honestly. "But it wasn't my secret alone. The Arrow thought—thinks—having you know his identity puts you at too much risk."

"So you want me to forgive you, Roy?" she asked, arching her eyebrow.

"More than anything. I love you, Thea. I'm sorry I hurt you," he said sincerely. She had to believe him.

"Do you know how sick I am of having people who say they love me lie to me?" she asked bitterly. "I lost two days, Roy. Two days. My so-called father did something to me—I just know it. But I also know that if I ask him, he'll just lie. I'm so sick of liars, Roy! Both my dads were liars. My mom was, and I know Oliver's been lying to me since his return. If you want to be back in my life, I need you to tell me the truth. Who is the Arrow? Who do you work for?"

Her demand threw Roy for a loop. He opened his mouth, wanting to tell her. However, he and Oliver had been through so much together. How could he betray him? Looking resigned, he closed his mouth and got up. "I'm sorry, Thea. I can't tell you. I can't betray him. He means too much to me."

"More than me?" Thea asked bitterly.

"He's the only family I have. You left me, remember?" Roy reminded her, getting angry himself.

"I probably should've stayed gone," she said, her eyes hollow.

Roy gave her a sad look and turned to leave. He brushed passed a returning Clint without a word.

Clint returned to Thea, finding her in tears. Quietly, he paid their bill and took her hand. They went to their floor with no words exchanged. Thea wiped her eyes when the elevator opened. She took a deep breath and stepped out as Clint walked with her to her door that was next to his. She opened it and flashed him a smile, causing Clint to frown at the sudden change in her mood. Then she surprised him further when she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Clint's hands went to her arms to pull her back. "What are you doing?" he asked in disapproval.

"You're hot. I'm hot. We should have sex," she said with a careless grin.

"You're mostly drunk," he said, trying to ease her away from him.

She lost her smile. "No, I'm not drunk," she said firmly. She kissed him again.

Clint allowed the kiss mostly because he knew she'd figure out what he already knew. The kiss didn't last long. She pulled back this time, frowning up at him.

"You're not attracted to me," she said in bemusement.

"You're a beautiful woman," he stated with a gentle smile. "But no. I don't really see you that way."

"You're not gay, right?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye.

"No, I'm not," he said, smiling. "Are you really attracted to me or are you sad and lonely because your ex wants something from you that you're not ready or willing to give?"

Thea glared at him, hating how insightful he was. "How do you do that? You've known me such a short time, but I feel like you know me better than just about anyone," she remarked.

"Because it's my job to know people," he said with a shrug.

Thea pulled back as if he slapped her. "So I'm just a job? Good to know," she said, turning to go into her room.

Clint reached out and grabbed her hand. "Now don't get in a snit," he said, trying not to laugh. She was a paradox of youthful naïveté wrapped in an old soul. "I didn't come with you to your home as a job. I came because I'm your friend, and I'm worried about you. I came because you can trust me."

Thea gave him a searching look and then nodded. "Thanks," she said. "I really appreciate having someone in my life that isn't hiding things from me. Good night."

"Good night," Clint said. He went into his room, making a decision that he knew would anger some. He wasn't going to be another person deceiving her. She deserved the truth.

******The Next Day******

Oliver was sparring with Diggle, trying to not think about Natasha. He didn't know what it meant that she was gone when he awoke. His preoccupation allowed Diggle to get another hit in.

"Are you okay?" Dig asked, not used to him being distracted.

"I'm fine," Oliver said. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Are you boys playing nice?"

They paused and saw Natasha, smiling and holding breakfast sandwiches and coffee. John saw the warm smile that Oliver gave the deadly woman and grinned. "So that's how it is," he said, walking off the mat to relieve her of the coffee. "Thanks!"

"You're welcome," she said. Even though she'd refused to spend the night in Oliver's arms, she still wanted to be close to him for as long as it lasted.

Ignoring Dig, Oliver pulled her close and kissed her. "I missed you this morning," he murmured.

"I like being missed," she said with a coy smile.

Footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs, interrupting them. Oliver saw Clint and stiffened. "What the hell?" he demanded as he spotted his sister with him. He pulled away from Natasha and moved toward them.

"Ollie, what's going on?" Thea asked, looking around. "You told me the basement was flooded." Her eyes spotted the green hood and suddenly it all became clear. She gasped and looked at her brother in shock.

"Thea," Oliver began, not knowing what to say. He glared at Clint.

"You're the Arrow!" she said. So many things filled her head. It was like she had clarity for the first time. She looked at the suit, and then she looked at her brother. It made perfect sense. "Of course!" A burst of pride filled her. He had saved her; he had saved so many. Then she frowned, realizing that he had killed many, too. Her father was a killer and so was her brother. It was too much. Roy's words from last night played in her head. It was Oliver that Roy was protecting. He was protecting her brother. Somehow, she'd failed to notice that her own brother had become the center of her boyfriend's world. How self-involved was she?

Her brother was looking at her expectantly as if waiting for a blow. Her heart went out to him, but she couldn't find the words. It was like all the air was sucked out of the room, and she couldn't breathe. Turning around, she ran toward the stairs.

When Clint started to go after her, Oliver marched up to him and grabbed his arm to stop him, spinning him around to face Oliver. "How dare you!" he exclaimed.

"I dared because I refuse to be another person lying to her," Clint said bluntly.

Oliver reared back, his words stabbing deep. "You had no right!" he yelled angrily.

"I only did what you should've done much sooner," Clint said coolly. "Maybe if you'd been more honest with her to begin with, she wouldn't have fled this city with her psychopathic father!"

A cold rage swept over Oliver. Without giving it another thought, he pulled back his fist and hit Clint hard in the face.

*****To Be Continued*****

Thanks so much for reading. Your reviews mean a lot. I hope the lack of smut wasn't too much of a disappointment!