Natasha glanced around the platform at her team, her family – or rather, what was left of it – and drew in a deep breath. That's why they were doing this though, to bring everyone back, to make The Avengers, and the world, whole again.
She blew out the breath and flexed her fingers at her side. They wouldn't be whole though, not really, not after everything they'd lost. Vision would still be dead, and after today, so would she.
It had been pretty obvious that no one was thrilled at the thought of retrieving the Soul Stone from Vormir, so Natasha volunteered. And, as she expected, Clint did, too.
"Good" she thought. "Then this will be a no-brainer."
In the grand scheme, her life was a small price to pay to bring back the billions of lives lost. She wanted her friends back. She wanted her sister back. Natasha could only hope Yelena would forgive her for dying in the process.
Of course, she didn't tell Clint, or anyone else for that matter, what she planned to do. She knew they'd all try to talk her out of it. Her eyes slid over to Steve, who was staring at her with curiosity in his gaze. He tilted his head to the side, and she briefly wondered if he somehow knew.
God, she wanted to tell Steve most of all. She wanted to say a proper goodbye. Instead, she flashed him a small smile and said, "See you in a minute."
The corner of his mouth quirked up, and then they were gone.
In a flash, they were back on the platform, realizing one by one that the mission was a success. They'd retrieved all six Infinity Stones. It only took a few seconds for Steve to realize someone was missing. He looked to Tony who was staring at the empty spot, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Where's Barton?" Bruce was the first to break the thick air of silence. "Nat, what happened? Where's Clint?"
Natasha sank to her knees and let out a heavy sob, but before she could say anything, Steve was at her side, hauling her into his arms. He grasped her by the shoulders, searching her green eyes for any indication of what had happened, though he already knew the answer. They all did.
"Natasha?" Another sob ripped from her chest and his arms immediately went around her.
"It was supposed to be me," she cried into Steve's chest, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. "Steve, it was supposed to be me."
Steve squeezed her tighter and rested his chin on the top of her head. He glanced around at the rest of the team who looked to be in shock. Bruce had dropped to one knee, slamming a fist into the ground. Tony, whose eyes were now brimming with tears, placed a hand on the scientist's large shoulder. Rhodey did nothing to hide the tears now streaming down his face. Scott was pacing, hands clasped over his head. Rocket and Nebula stood nearby, unmoving. It wasn't until Steve heard a door slam at the back of the hangar that he realized Thor was missing from the group. A few seconds later The God of Thunder's angry scream ripped through the space, sending another wave of sobs through Natasha.
Without hesitation, they decided the stones could wait. It'd already been five years, what was a little while longer? Steve's immediate priority was Natasha. He managed to get her up to her room where she now sat on the edge of the bed with her head hung low. Steve stood in the doorway, torn between comforting his friend and giving her the space he'd undoubtedly need if the roles were reverse.
Nat looked up at him with glassy eyes. "Please stay?" she asked, scooting over on the bed to make room for him to sit beside her.
He realized, then, that they were still in their gear. Steve knelt in front of her, so they were eye level. "Why don't you go take a shower." She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "Ok, ok. At least go get changed. I'll be right here."
Natasha walked toward the attached bathroom, removing her clothes as she went. It wasn't a conscious thing, at least Steve didn't think it was, in that moment. She'd never been shy about dressing and undressing in front of other people, something he and Sam learned quickly during their two years on the run. Ever the gentleman, Steve sat at the edge of the bed and angled his body away from her.
Nat returned to her place next to him a minute later. Her hand found Steve's and their fingers intertwined between them.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Steve looked over at Natasha and felt a pang in his chest at how much pain she was clearly in. She'd redone her long red and blonde hair into a new braid and changed into black jeans and an army green tank top. Standard Natasha Romanov attire. All that was missing were her combat boots and a mischievous smile.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "Not particularly, Rogers."
Steve smiled to himself at her use of his surname. She'd started calling him Steve after the snap, only using Rogers in jest. But this didn't feel like a joking moment. "Don't you think that's all the more reason why you should?"
Natasha drew in a long, shaky breath and looked toward him. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'll have to, eventually, anyway." She scooted farther onto the bed and turned to face him. Steve followed her lead and waited for her to continue.
"I was planning on dying there. It should've been me. I've spent my entire life fighting, and for me, this was supposed to be the end," Natasha paused, noticing Steve's brows furrow. She could tell he wanted to argue that she was wrong. She squeezed his hand and let out a small, sad chuckle. "Whatever you're about to say, don't. Just listen."
Steve nodded and Natasha continued. "Clint thought he needed to make the sacrifice because of what he'd done, because of all the people he killed. He didn't think he was worthy of his family anymore. But that was all the more reason for him to live. He deserved to be with them. They deserved to be whole."
She reached up to swipe fresh tears away before they fell. "It didn't make sense for him to die, when he had so much to live for, Steve. You know it. I know it. I'm sure the whole team knows it. He was my best friend, and now he's gone."
Steve pressed his forehead to Natasha's. It was an intimate gesture the pair had only shared once before, shortly after the snap.
During the first few months, they both stayed at The Avengers compound, working leads, trying to help as many of those who were left behind as they could. The work was hard and emotionally draining, but this had been a particularly devastating day. Steve and Rhodey had set out to clear trash and old personal belongings from an abandoned orphanage. The goal was to raze the structure and rebuild it into affordable housing. What they found inside were the bodies of seven children, all under the age of five. A search of The Vanished registry showed the orphanage caregivers had all been snapped away, leaving the children alone.
Steve returned to the compound that day and almost immediately collapsed into Natasha's arms. She'd seen him cry in those first few days as he mourned the loss of their friends, but it was nothing like this. The usually strong, stoic and optimistic Captain America was front of her now, more broken than he'd ever been.
Natasha took him to her room, and he curled into her on the bed, his head against her chest as she ran her fingers through his hair until the sobs subsided. Once his breathing evened out, and Nat was sure he'd stopped crying, she pulled him up, so they were face to face. That was the first, but not the last time, she considered kissing Steve Rogers. Instead, she leaned forward on her pillow and pressed her forehead to his. He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes.
"Thank you, Nat."
This time, Steve was the one to push thoughts of kissing Natasha to the back of his mind. It would be so easy, though. Their lips were just millimeters apart. All he'd have to do was tilt his face forward ever so slightly… If there was ever a right time, this was not it.
"I think a part of me knew what you were planning on doing," he said in a low voice. His breath ghosted against Nat's cheek, and she suppressed a shiver. "But I don't think anything would've prepared me for you not showing back up on that platform."
Against her better judgement, she looked up into his eyes. The usually deep blue irises were dark and stormy now. It made something clench tightly in Natasha's gut. She swallowed hard and sat back a few inches. The loss of contact made her instantly feel cold.
"You always know just what to say to make a girl blush," she said in an attempt to diffuse the tension, quirking her lips up into her trademark grin.
"Natasha, I'm serious." Steve said. A few strands of his dirty blonde hair fell forward onto his forehead. His expression looked pained. "I thought we were past this. You don't have to pretend with me. Not anymore."
Steve was right, and she wanted to hate him for it. Natasha didn't know why he made it so easy for her to let her guard down. She'd spent her entire life building walls around herself, brick by brick. But over the last 10 years, Steve fucking Rogers, of all people, managed to find the one fissure. He could've torn it to the ground ages ago, but instead he chose to steadily chip away, little by little. It made her trust him. It made her want to let him all the way in.
She shook the thought from her mind and stood. The only other person she let in like that was Clint, and now he was dead. And Natasha was here. She was alive, in this room with Steve who was looking at her like she hung the goddamn moon. No. No, she wouldn't let this happen again.
"C'mon," she said, steeling her expression before turning back to face him. "We should go find the others."
The shift would've been imperceptible to anyone else, but Steve knew what Natasha was doing. Her walls slammed back into place in an instant, walls he'd spent the better part of a decade poking holes in, both intentionally and accidentally.
As much as he hated to admit it, though, she was right. Six other people were grieving, too, and they all still had a job to finish. Clint's sacrifice would be for nothing if, after everything, they failed to reverse the snap.
Steve stood and followed Natasha toward the door. "On your six, Romanov," he said quietly from behind her, letting her know he had her back. She turned her head slightly, and Steve could see the corner of her lip turn up, ever so slightly, as they headed back down to the hangar.