Chapter two

'Nat?' Clint asks in disbelief. Out of everything he expected her to feel, guilt was certainly not one of them.

'It's my fault', Natasha whispers again, the first tears making their way down her cheeks.

'What are you talking about?' he asks as he moves closer to her. He wants to wrap an arm around her shoulders, like he's done so many times before, but as soon as his hand touches her back she's on her feet.

'Don't', she cries, 'don't touch me'.

'Tasha, please', he pleads.

'Don't be nice to me. I did this', she crosses her arms over her chest as if she is holding herself. He looks at her with worried eyes. It takes him every ounce of self control not to jump to his feet and wrap his arms around her. He knows he has to wait for her to continue.

'I should've died', she finally continues, 'then Laura…', she stops talking as she mentions Laura's name. And suddenly it clicks.

'Oh, Natasha, no', he stands up and walks towards her slowly, 'you don't believe…' he stands in front of her.

'She's gone because I survived', her voice is so soft and shaky he has a hard time hearing her correctly. Clint can only shake his head in disbelief. 'A soul for a soul'.

'Nat, listen to me', he wants to place his hand on her cheeks but she moves out of his reach again. She just lost the fight she has been fighting with herself for the last few weeks.

'Don't you get it, Clint! Your wife is gone because of me. Your kids don't have a mother anymore because of me', she cries hysterically, 'I have to look at their faces every day, knowing I'm…'

'You can't possibly think that…' he doesn't get to finish.

'I'm the reason you lost the woman you love. I'm the reason Coop and Lila and Nate are without their mother. Don't you see, Clint!' He's at an absolute loss of what to do. He has seen Natasha in many different ways. But this is new.

'Nat, calm down', he tries to sooth her a little. It obviously doesn't work.

'I'm the one who's supposed to be dead! I don't deserve to live. Everyone would be better off if I died on that cliff! I wish I died', she falls to her knees and doubles over. Clint catches her just in time before her head can collide with the porch. He wraps his arms around her small frame. She fights him with all she has.

'Stop, Natasha', he whispers over and over until she finally doesn't have the energy to fight anymore, sags against him and sobs. He cradles her against his chest as she sobs and screams, clinging to him like a child. The sounds coming from her are so incredibly heartbreaking, it physically hurts his heart and soul to hear her like this. One of his hands is holding her head to his chest, the other is around her back slowly tracing circles.

'Shh, Tash', Clint says softly as he starts rocking her a little, hoping it will calm her down a little. There doesn't seem to be an end to her breakdown. After a while his back is starting to hurt from sitting on the wooden porch. So he lifts her up bridal style, walks back to the couch and sits down with Natasha across his lap.

'Please…', she cries, desperate for this crying to end.

'I'm not going anywhere. Just breathe, okay?' Clint softly whispers, 'it'll stop. Just let it go, Nat'. It's about all the encouragement she needs. For the next hour she cries all the tears she held in for weeks. She feels all the pain, all the guilt and desperation she didn't allow herself to feel for the last weeks. And Clint just holds her. He holds her, strokes her back and hair, rocks her gently and whispers soft comforting words to her.

It's the longest hour of his life. Clint thought he pretty much knew every side of Natasha. Of course he has seen her cry. He has seen her angry, depressed and pretty much every other emotion a human being can have. But this display of emotions is so unlike her.

Finally, her sobs turn to soft cries. Eventually turning to sniffles. Her body relaxes a little. She removes her arms from around his neck and lays her head sideways against his shoulder. Clint just lays his hand against her hair, running his fingers through her hair. Her sniffles disappear after a while but he can hear by her breathing how congested she is.

'We'll talk later', he softly says after a while, 'let me get you something to drink'.

'No, don't', Natasha croaks, 'don't let me go'.

'Okay', he kisses her forehead briefly, 'I'm not going anywhere'.