She is there beside him moments after the bomb detonates. Lying on his side on the glass strewn ground, Clint feels like he is dying, every breath a screaming protest in his lungs, every movement making his body howl in an agony more excruciating than any he has ever felt before. Her face swims into focus, jade eyes unflinching as they stare down at him.
"Just breathe," she tells him. He does, instinctively listening to the one voice he trusts not to lead him astray, even when he is reliant on his vision to tell him what she is saying over the ringing in his ears. Her fingers find his own and he feels safer, warmer. He holds onto her with an iron grip, desperately reassuring himself that she is really there.
He hears noise all around him, screaming, sirens. Amid the rubble and the smoke, he clings to Natasha and wishes for the time to tell her all the things he needs her to hear. Thoughts turning inwards, he considers the wealth of memories that surround his time with her, the weight of missed opportunities and unspoken words. If home is where the heart is, then his home is always with the woman who cradles him now.
He turns his head towards her, struggling to form the words he wants. "Please don't leave me," he croaks, aware of the taste of his own blood in the back of his throat and the heavy smell of copper on the air.
She doesn't flinch as she meets his gaze, her eyes haunting, soft and knowing. "Not going anywhere without you," she replies softly, caressing his cheek with her free hand. "Just breathe. Stay with me Barton. Stay calm."