DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE.
The rating of this story has CHANGED from T to M now, due to sexual content. Please bare this warning in mind if you decide to continue reading.
~0~0~0~0~0~
Facing the alien army had been nothing compared to the panic that threatened to overwhelm Steve the second his wife collasped beside him. She'd gone down so quickly that not even his super-fast reflexes could keep up, but he'd scooped her into his arms seconds after her small body had hit the ground. Even now, as he held her up, she seemed far too small for someone who had just wielded a legendary Asgardian weapon.
"Thor, what's happening to her?" Steve asked, careful not to shout, considering Pepper, Peter and Rhodey were all still with Tony, keeping a silent vigil. They would be the last to leave, last to step through whichever portal Dr Strange opened up for them. Yet, he felt that fear start to creep in, start to settle inside him and swarm through his veins, and it was an effort to stop himself from shaking.
Thor took in Natasha's limp body with saddened eyes. "I believe the hammer must have demanded a high price, for a mortal to be able to use it. Her body couldn't withstand it any longer."
"Her body has shut down in order to repair itself." Banner-Hulk explained, concerned filled eyes also locked on Natasha. Steve had no intention on letting go of her, and no one asked that of him.
"What can we do?" Steve asked, trying his hardest to not let his terror show. He could faintly hear Natasha's heartbeat, and he really hoped it was just his mind playing tricks on him whenever he thought he heard that rhythm start to fade. Stay with me, Nat, he silently begged her, and tightened his hold on her slightly, fearing that she would slip away from him at any moment.
On soundless feet, T'Challa approached. "Come back to Wakanda with us, and Shuri will try to bring her back." There was no promise in those words, as the King knew better than to make vows he could not keep. At his side, though, Shuri dipped her head, her eyes shining as she looked at the fallen spy.
Steve couldn't speak, as he gazed down at Natasha's face. She looked so peaceful, as if she was simply sleeping. To wield such a powerful weapon definitely wouldn't have been easy for her body to withstand, but Steve knew better than to wish his wife hadn't taken such a risk. She'd do anything to save the people she loved.
So, he dug down deep, summoning the last scrap of his courage - even though it paled in comparison to his wife's own courage - and said, "Please, whatever you can, please just help her."
T'Challa and the princess exchanged a glance, before Shuri looked to Steve and said, "I will try my best, Captain." That was all she could over, and Steve just prayed it would be enough.
Hold on, Nat.
~0~0~0~0~0~
It had been a long time since Natasha had feared darkness of any kind.
In her lifetime, she had learnt there were different types of darkness; the one that was terrifying, the one that was calming, the one that was empty. She could remember being a little girl, being scared of sleeping in a pitch-black room, in case something lurked in the corners. Once her mentors had found out, Madame B had broken that fear, as a spy couldn't have such a weakness. Since then, Natasha had never feared the dark.
Until now.
But, perhaps what was more scary, as the fact she didn't feel like she was in her body.
She felt as if she was floating, but as her own soul, lost in the surrounding darkness without a way back to herself. As if she was a single star, amongst an endless night sky. Alone.
Something pulled on a thread, tempting her to return. She tried to grasp that thread, but it slipped away from her, still beckoning, but as if it moved further every time she tried.
Natasha Rogers was lost, and she had no idea how to get back.
~0~0~0~0~0~
Steve hadn't left her side in three days, only if it was absolutely necessary. He knew that Bucky and Wanda were concerned, and that's why at least one of them were always hovering closely. Sam also sometimes stood in the doorway, watching, checking in, but knowing that no matter their hardest efforts, no one could convince Steve to leave that room.
They'd returned to Wakanda almost instantly. Banner had joined them, after saying goodbye to Thor, who'd told them the next time they'd see him would be at Tony's funeral, but after that, the Asgardian was going on his own sort of mission.
Tony's funeral was fast approaching, but the date would be pushed back if Natasha hadn't come round by then. It had been Pepper who had insisted that the Russian red-head should be there. After that, another service would be held for Clint Barton. Steve had made contact with Laura already, even though it had broken his heart to tell the woman what her husband had done for them all, the sacrifice he had made.
Tony and Clint would always be known as heroes, and none of them remaining Avengers would ever let their names be forgotten.
Now, Steve could only sit and wait. Wait for his wife to wake up, to come back to him. As every minute passed, his heart felt more strained, and sometimes, he'd dream and hear her voice. When he'd wake up and find her still asleep, it was like a punch in the gut, and he'd cried more times in the last few days then he'd ever cried his entire life.
He'd often sit and talk to her, hoping that perhaps his voice would bring her back. He'd always tell her how much he loved her, how brave she was, how he needed her to come back. She just lay there, eyes closed, hands joined over her stomach, looking like an angel who'd fallen.
Shuri had worked relentlessly for two days straight since they'd arrived, and now, it was just a waiting game. The last twenty-four hours had been unbearable, but Steve refused to leave Natasha's side. He ate and slept in this room, thankful that the adjoining bathroom meant that he'd never be too far. He didn't want her to wake up and find herself alone.
What if she woke up and couldn't remember anything? That fear had sprung into his mind often, until Shuri had assured him that the damage to her body hadn't left her brain altered, but because she had no true knowledge on the damage created by such a weapon, she hadn't ruled it out. The princess had warned him to be ready, just in case.
He tried not to think about it, tried not to think of how much it would hurt if she woke up and looked at him blankly, if she forgot everything they had been through together and everything that they were. He tried not to overthink such things, because what could happen after she woke up came second priority to her waking up.
As long as she woke up.
"I miss you, sweetheart." He told her gently, brushing her soft hair, letting the silky strand run between his fingers. "I miss your smile. I miss your laugh. I miss your voice. I'm here, and I'll be here, for however long it takes." He swallowed as fresh tears burned at his eyes, but he tried to keep his voice steady, for her, in case she was listening. "I love you, so much Nat. Please, come back to me."
Not a single movement, not even a flicker of an eyelid.
And so, Steve covered her hands with his and waited.
~0~0~0~0~0~
It would be so easy to just float like this forever.
But, Natasha knew that she wasn't finished. There was so much she hadn't done, so much waiting for her. Her life had been consumed these last few years. It was time to start living.
That thread was back, taunting her again, wanting her to grab it. It flickered around her, like a warm glow. The scent of cinnamon, of home, wrapped around her soul like a comforting blanket, the smell too faint. She wanted more. Needed more.
Come back to me.
The words hummed around her as she remained in the darkness, but the familiarity to them - that strong, warm voice that she'd fallen in love with, in a life she was trying to return to - surrounded her.
She was just so tired...
If she could just reach that thread, that thread that would take her home, and tug...
~0~0~0~0~0~
"Hey, man." Bucky said softly, moving across the room and stopping when he reached the wall of glass, as if fearing his presence was already unwanted enough, so keeping his distance was the best option.
Steve could barely lift his head as he regarded his best friend, a man who had brought him through so many hard times as a kid, but now couldn't help him through this. They both knew it, and Steve could see that it was eating Bucky up inside.
"Hey," Steve mumbled back, trying to straighten, but hours sat in that chair hadn't done his back any favours. If Natasha witnessed how long it took him to sit up, she would have definitely made an old-man comment, which she would have soothed with one of those long, devoted kisses of hers. Steve tried not to shatter apart at the thought, and at the reminder that Natasha wasn't physically here right now.
"Still nothing?" Bucky checked. Although not knowing Natasha all that well, and having not gotten off on the right foot with her in the beginning, Bucky had helped Steve get her up to this room. It was on one of the top floors of the palace, over-looking the city, as Shuri had commented that Natasha had always appreciated the view from up here. Bucky hadn't returned to his own home in Wakanda yet, and had instead stayed while Natasha had been under Shuri's care, as if silently knowing how close Steve had been to falling apart.
Steve wasn't too sure he was much better right now. He was barely holding himself together, and it was becoming more and more of an effort, but he wouldn't let himself crumble. Not when his wife would need him when she woke up.
"Nothing," Steve answered, trying to keep the bitter disappointment out of his voice. Shuri had no idea how long this would take, so they had date to aim for, nothing to think towards. Just sitting and waiting. "Shuri said her body took a big hit from using Mjolnir like that."
"It was very impressive." Bucky said, and it was an attempt to make Steve feel better, but also the absolute truth. Nothing but admiration shone in the soldier's eyes. "Honestly, man, if you hadn't married her, I would have."
Steve snorted. "I know you would." He glanced back to the woman lying beside him. "Do you think she can hear us?"
Bucky was silent for a moment before responding, "You know, when Hydra used to reprogramme my brain, the pain would be so unbearable that my body would kind of shut down? I was there, and I was enduring it, but it kind of felt like I was experiencing it from outside my own body. I know I'm not explaining it very well, but it was kind of like an escape hatch. I think...I think Natasha's body knows what it's doing, and that she's just waiting to be strong enough. She'll come back, buddy."
Steve tried to ignore the tightening of his chest. "It should be impossible for one person to be so brave." He wasn't just referring to Mjolnir, but Natasha's entire life, how it had tested her. What she went through would have broken so many people - Steve himself didn't know if he could have survived the abuse of the Red Room without loosing himself completely - yet Natasha had fought with everything she had to save the world that hadn't been kind to her to begin with, a world that had still scorned at her name despite her work with the Avengers.
Bucky said kindly, "That fight inside her will bring her back to you, Steve. When she's ready."
Again, forming a sentence was just too much, so Steve just squeezed Natasha's small hands with his own, and didn't even hear Bucky leave the room.
~0~0~0~0~0~
Come back to me.
Where are you? Natasha wanted to scream into the dark void around her, but a part of her knew she wouldn't get an answer.
The thread had disappeared again, as if it really did enjoy teasing her. She felt so very tired, as her soul continued to drift.
Drained. She was completely drained. Whatever had happened had taken everything from her, from every fibre of her being.
But, she couldn't stay here forever. She couldn't loose herself to this darkness, no matter how easy it would be to do so. She had to find a way back, to that warm, sweet voice that whispered to her through the shadows, that surrounded her and tried to guide her.
I love you, so much Nat.
One person had loved her so greatly, so completely, that it had changed everything about how she saw the world. Yet, they weren't here. No one was here. She could remember overwhelming grief at losing people she loved, and yet this voice belonged to the one who held her heart, who was waiting for her. She had to get back.
Natasha had a life to return to. She wasn't ready to die yet.
Come back to me.
As if the voice itself summoned it, the thread appeared, dancing along the sides of her senses. This time, she managed to take hold of it, and a lifetime of memories returned to her.
A cold, damp orphanage, filled with stamping and shouting, where she wasn't tall enough to be able to peer out the windows. The building was always unfriendly, no matter how many children lived in it, no matter how many thin sheets she managed to wrap around herself. She didn't even have a name here. She was just another number, another being that would waste away into the shadows.
Then, it wasn't the orphange where she was standing, but an even darker, even colder building. Light tried to peel in through the misty windows, and it lit up several aspects of the room, especially the tall, looming figure that stood over her. She was a miserable state, a bag of bones, and felt worse when she stared at the woman's delicately pulled back hair, the pink to her cheeks, the cleanliness of her clothes. She was nothing and no one, but the woman at least gave her a name. Natasha Romanova.
Natasha Romanova grew up with broken bones, with chipped nails, with hair that was constantly pulled and twisted. She had no friends, no one she could trust, as every other girl her age here saw her as an opponent. Years of darkness, of cruelty and hardship, trained her up to be a killer, an assaisin who excelled at her job.
Friends. She'd first found true friends working amongst a team of skilled adults, battling alongside them to save a city. Images flashed to her, of strange creatures, of aircrafts firing, and a bright blue box that hummed of intense power.
Mission after mission returned to her mind, of working and making a name of herself. Natasha Romanoff.
Then, amongst those missions, she remembered a face; sharpened jawline, tempting lips that would twitch at something she said, a dimple that would appear when that person was truly happy, blue eyes that saw right through her. The face of the man she'd fallen in love with.
Again, more missions, but this time, that man was at her side. He never faltered, never strayed far from her.
She could remember arguments, words said in indirect anger. The feeling of her heart being ripped into as that beautifully-faced man distanced himself, fading into the background of her vision. An intense, unwanted fight, where she'd given up everything she stood for to ensure he was safe, because his life would always mean more to her than her own.
A beautiful kingdom came next, and that man was back, returned to her side. A ceremony where beautiful words touched her ears, where her entire body felt light.
So many different memories came to her, of years of happiness, years of struggle, years of sadness. Then, a final battle, and the feeling of something truly powerful raging through her body, consuming every vein, spreading from her head to her toes. A joyous feeling at the time, that then stripped her down at the very end.
Her life. That was what the thread gave her. A choice.
She was tired, so tired, that for the first time, she doubted whether she could make it. The thread pulsed around her, beckoning.
You've done brilliantly, Natasha. A new voice, one belonging to a friend she'd never see again, came to her. Was he here, waiting in this darkness? Was he also alone? All these years. You were never a monster.
Where are you? She wanted to scream.
You don't belong here, Natasha. The voice told her firmly. It is not your time yet.
His name returned to her, like a shard of ice to her heart. Oh, how she missed him. What do I do?
There was a long stretch of silence, unbearably long, and Natasha panicked. If she was truly on her own, and couldn't find her way back, what would happen? An eternity spent in darkness frightened her, and she thought once again about that man waiting for her, who held her heart and had done for a very long time, who loved her unconditionally. He was waiting. She had to go back.
Live, Natasha, her friend ordered her, as that thread began heavier, wanting to pull her forwards, willing her to let it do so. Live.
Blue eyes, that charismatic smile, that voice that kept her safe and happy. He was waiting. Waiting for her to overcome this, to fight through it. One more fight.
Steve, she thought, his name like a prayer through her mind, as she tightened her hold on that thread and let it drag her through the darkness, to who was waiting for her on the other side.
Where she slammed head-first towards a wall of light, so bright that it almost hurt.
~0~0~0~0~0~
He'd thought he had been imagining it, when her eyeballs had started to flicker behind her eyelids. Perhaps, the small movement was nothing at all, but he'd watched, unable to keep a steady rythum with his breathing, as he waited. Then, the movement stopped all together, and he tried not to loose himself in the crashing disappointment and sadness that threatened to weigh him down.
Four days had passed now, and his body was exhausted. His mind was drained, but it was his heart that ached the most, with every hour that went by without her.
His hand still covered hers, and he stared down at them, at how small she was in comparison to him. Then, he could have sworn he saw her pinky twitch, just slightly.
"Nat?" He whispered, his voice hoarse. "Nat, can you hear me? I'm here, sweetheart."
The pinky stilled, but then Natasha's whole body shook, and her mouth parted as a loud gasp filled the room, as if she'd been submerged in water this entire time and was now fighting for oxygen. Steve bolted upright, a hand flying to cup her cheek, as Natasha's eyes flew open. There had never been a colour more beautiful to Steve than those emerald orbs that stared up at him in disbelief and wonder.
"I heard you." She whispered, after a few moments of silence passed between them, where they'd just been staring at one another. Steve drank in her every detail, and felt fresh tears spring to his eyes at the sound of her voice. "I heard you, Steve. I followed you back. I found you."
He couldn't belief it. All he could think to do was lean forward so his forehead was against hers, the contact with her making his body tremble. "Oh, Natasha," He breathed out, tasting her name on his lips, feeling her breath against his face. His tears continued to fall, mixing with her own on her cheeks. "Natasha, Natasha," He couldn't say her name enough times, couldn't bare the thought of moving away from her.
Natasha's hand touched his own cheek, her fingers gently brushing away his tears before her hand settled. "I'm here, Steve."
Pulling himself from her, he leaned down to kiss away her own tears, nuzzling against her jawline, inhaling her scent like he was addicted to her. "You were so brave, sweetheart. So, so brave." Images of her wielding that hammer, of facing Thanos without a scrap of fear, of the lightning that had coursed through her body. The lightning that had almost taken her away from him, but she had fought with everything she had. A warrior through and through. "God, I missed you so much."
She gazed up at him, as if she too was mesmerising his face and his voice. "Mjolnir?" She guessed.
Trying to relax, he settled back down on the chair beside her bed, but kept one hand on her cheek, and the other entwined with hers on top of her stomach. That physical contact grounded him, reassured him over and over that this wasn't a dream, that she was really back. With him. He was never letting her go ever again. "It was a lot for your body, Nat. I don't know how you managed to do it, sweetheart, I really don't, but your body shut down in order to help you recover." He paused, not knowing if she would be ready to talk about it, but he saw the softness to her eyes, the silent encouragement, and asked, "Could you hear anything? See anything?"
"You," She repeated. "I heard you. Not at first. At first, I was alone. It was just...darkness. Endless darkness. I think...I think if I'd wanted to, I could have easily disappeared into that darkness forever."
He tried not to flinch, tried not to pull her into his arms and cling onto her, in case that darkness came to claim her again. She's here, he told himself, she came back.
"I felt a bond to you, like a thread leading me home. I found it, and it brought me back, because I chose to come back." Natasha went on, and when her voice sounded a little dry, he quickly handed her a glass of water. After taking a few grateful sips and handing him the glass back, Natasha continued, "I was so tired, and I couldn't feel my body. It was just me, a soul wandering through endless nothing, searching for a way home. When I heard your voice, I knew I needed to come back. I have so much to life for, so much that I want to experience with you. I couldn't let myself give in.
So much, they could have so much ahead of them. Steve swallowed. "You're incredible." She really was.
"I saw everything. My whole life." Natasha told him. "From the very beginning, right till the end, that battlefield. I could still feel the echo of the lightning, of the power. My body craved it, but it can't handle it. I saw your face, and I knew that I had to get back. I had to find that thread, and hold onto it."
Then, a sadness darkened her eyes, making them loose that spark. "I heard Clint, too." She mumbled, and Steve squeezed her hand, silently telling her that she didn't have to explain, not if she didn't want to. But, Natasha closed her eyes briefly, and started again, "I think...I think a part of him lingered back, knowing that I'd need him to help me, to guide me. He...he told me to live. So, I pulled on that thread, and I came back to you."
Steve's heart clenched, knowing that he'd never be able to repay Clint Barton for the friend he'd been to his wife. More than a friend. A brother. Family. "Nat-"
"Tony," She breathed out. "Is he...?"
"Yes. Pepper stayed with him, right till the end." Steve reassured her, because he knew one of Natasha's biggest fears was to die alone, and that she'd never want someone she loved to go through that. "His funeral is in a few days. As is Clint's." He felt like a terrible person for telling her that, right after she'd just recovered, but he knew that she'd want to know, and that she'd be angry at him for not telling her straight away.
Natasha swallowed. "Clint. I can't believe that he's really gone. Hearing his voice again..." She exhaled. "His family know?"
"Yes." Steve squeezed her hand again. "They will be at the funeral with us. Laura will need you. You'll need each other."
Duty. Natasha had always been a woman of duty, ever since she'd signed up with SHIELD, and Steve knew that despite her own grief, she would help the Barton family shoulder theirs from the lose of their father. He'd be there with them, every step of the way, as their hearts tried to heal. Never completely, but enough to move on with every new day.
"I'm so tired, Steve." She admitted quietly.
"I know, sweetheart." He lay a gentle kiss on her forehead. "You should sleep."
Her fingers tightened around his. "Stay with me?" She asked, blinking up at him as silver lined her eyes.
"Always," The promise came as easily as breathing, and Steve carefully climbed up onto the empty space at her side, his arm going round her shoulders and pulling her against him. "Are you sure you don't need anything?"
"Just you," Natasha's own hold on him tightened, as if she feared he'd get up anyway.
Steve kissed her temple. "Go to sleep, sweetheart."
As Natasha softened to his side and her breathing slowed, and tiredness clawed away at him too, Steve caught Wanda's eye as she slowly walked past the doorway. The girl halted, took in the scene in front of her, and dipped her head one, a promise that she'd tell Shuri that Natasha was awake, but that the married couple would have all the privacy they needed until they called for someone. Relief flickered in Wanda's eyes as she glanced at Natasha once again - relief and gratitude, to the woman who'd taught her how to depend on no one but herself, who had shown her she could push past her limits - before the girl shut the door.
With his wife sleeping against him, Steve rested his cheek against her head gently, and for the first time in days, sleep came easily.
~0~0~0~0~0~
Sleep had never felt so good, so needed, before. After a few hours curled up at Steve's side, Natasha had answered all of Shuri's questions when the princess of Wakanda had come to check her over. Shuri seemed happy enough with Natasha's state, but insisted that they should remain here, where they could easily reach her should they need to, for a few more days. When Steve had then pointed out that their home, the facility, was now lying in ruins, Shuri had pointed out that the apartment they'd used for their honeymoon was still theres, and Natasha couldn't help but smile.
They'd made their way there that evening, with Steve constantly asking if she was okay, and Natasha refusing his offer to be carried. She felt fine, physically, but she knew that no amount of reassurance would stop Steve from caring about her.
The apartment was furnished exactly how it had been when they left it, but the place was spotless. Shuri had clearly requested it it be polished within an inch of it's life before Steve and Natasha had returned to it. In a nearby building, Sam and Wanda had also been housed, with Bucky returning to his own home in the more rural part of the kingdom.
Natasha couldn't wait to have a shower, but she allowed herself the time to move from room to room, remembering all the amazing memories that she had shared with her husband here, and stopped when she reached the side of the apartment where the wall was made up completely of glass, giving the best view possible. Wakanda was just as beautiful as it had been all those years ago. She knew that the apartment didn't face the field where they had battled on, that lay more to the west of the kingdom.
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, and she gladly leaned back into her husbands arms as he kissed her neck and asked gently, "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
Did he know how much she depended on him? Even though she'd turned down his fussing and rolled her eyes whenever he'd glanced twice at her in worry on the walk here, she needed him more than she'd ever needed anyone. More than she'd ever wanted to need someone.
"I'm thinking," Natasha mumbled quietly, as the sun set in the far distance, lowering down behind the mountain range. "That I will never take a single day for granted ever again."
Whether he knew it or not, his hold around her waist tightened ever so slightly, but just as she was about to tease him for being an overprotective male, he said, "Would you like me to run you a bath?"
She settled into him. "That would be lovely." A bath certainly would be better than a shower to soothe her aching muscles after days spent lying down. Remembering just how large the bathtub here was, Natasha opened her mouth to comment when Steve pressed his lips to the corner of his mouth, unwrapped his arms from around her and headed for the bathroom.
Natasha's brow furrowed as she watched him disappear, as she picked up the slight tension to his shoulders as he walked. Something was bothering him, and she knew that he probably wasn't bringing it up right now because he was worried that she had already gone through too much. They'd all gone through enough, though, so she wasn't going to let him get away with keeping whatever troubled him to himself. That wasn't how they worked.
So, she took one more glance at the setting sun, before following him into the bathroom. Her heart warmed when she witnessed him pouring some salts into the bath to aid her recovering body. Leaning back against the door, she tilted her head to one side and asked, "Steve, what's wrong?"
He paused, then resumed sealing the bag of salts and placing them back in the cabinet. "Nothing's wrong, Nat."
"You forget that I can read you like a book." She didn't mean the words to come out quite as sharp as that, so she stepped towards him and cupped his face, making him look her in the eye. "We promised, Steve, that we'd share everything with one another. Moving on from what happened it's going to be easy, but we'll face it. Together. Just as we've faced everything else that has been thrown at us. Please, don't shut me out."
He released a sigh, but his body somewhat softened. "It's been a long day, Nat, especially for you. I just...I'll feel better when you've had a bath, and had something to eat."
"Did you not see the food Shuri practically shoved down my throat?" An attempt at a joke, to lighten the mood in the room, but it hadn't quite been a lie. The princess had insisted watching Natasha eat, to see if the spy could keep the foods down. She had, and was glad for it, because throwing up on Wakandan royalty was possibly the worst way to say thank you. "Steve, I'm fine." As fine as she could be, anyways. The news of Tony Stark had been devastating, and Natasha had cried about it once Shuri had left them alone again, until it hurt to cry anymore. But, no amount of tears would ever bring their friend back, and that was a harsh reality that all of them would have to come to terms with, even if she still hadn't quite gotten over losing Clint on that horrid planet.
Steve's eyes looked down into hers, as if he could read every emotion and thought that passed through her, as if he could see that she wasn't really fine. "I'll cook us something while you bathe." He promised, kissing her forehead before leaning away, taking a step back.
Stubbornly, she refused to let him go, so she followed his movement, going with him rather than away. "You could always bathe with me. Save some water." She pointed out, another shot in the dark at bringing humour to this conversation.
For a moment, it seemed that her husband would give in, but then he sighed and said, "Call me if you need anything." This time, she let him go, even though her heart felt heavier as the door closed behind him.
After standing there staring for a good few minutes, Natasha admitted defeat, stripped out of her clothes and lowered herself into the water. It was the perfect temperature, as the heat soaked into her body, but she didn't have much interest in soaking for too long, not while her husband was tip-toeing around her. All the blood and grim from the battle had long since been washed off her skin, but Natasha couldn't help but feel like it was still there, that no amount of scrubbing would be able to cleanse her of what had happened.
Ducking her head below the water, she remained there until her lungs begged for air. Being under the water soothed her slightly, despite the small roaring in her ears from the pressure, because it blocked out everything else. When she resurfaced, she didn't bring her grief with her. She'd mourn her friends for the rest of her life, but if she continued carrying that sadness with her, her own life would be wasted. It wasn't a selfish thing to do, but a realistic one. She would keep their names and memories alive for as long as she lived, and she'd never forget the lessons that both Clint and Tony had taught her. Both of those men, whether they'd realised it or not, had shaped her into the person she'd become.
Yet, the man who'd healed her the most, seemed like he couldn't touch her without the risk of breaking her. It irritated her slightly, even though she knew he wasn't doing it to upset her, but because that was just the sort of person he was; kind, caring, sweet - all things that had made her fall in love with him in the first place.
She knew she'd been close to death, that the hammer had demanded such a high price that her body almost couldn't pay it, and only her will and determination to get back to this life had allowed her to find her way back to Steve. She'd meant what she said about not wasting a single day.
When she got out of the bath at last, with wet hair and skin that smelt distinctively of coconut, Natasha headed for the bedroom with her towel wrapped around her body. She tried not to be offended when Steve didn't look at her as she crossed the kitchen, purposefully putting herself in his path. He was concentrating on cooking.
She changed quickly into clothes provided by the royal family, no doubt - another act of kindness she'd never feel like she could repay them for. The material was so soft against her skin that it brought her comfort, and she kept her hair wet after towel-drying it as best she could. By the time she rejoined her husband, he'd set the table and placed their food down.
But, she didn't walk to the chair he'd pulled out for her. Instead, she walked straight up to him, her hands going to the back of his neck to entwine in his hair, and she brought his lips down to hers, demanding the kiss she'd waited hours for already.
Steve seemed a little hesitant at first, but just as Natasha was about to growl against his lips that he was being foolish, he returned the kiss with equal vigour. He, too, had been waiting for this.
When they eventually pulled apart, Natasha looked up at him and said firmly, "I'm not going to break, Steve. I'm here, with you, and that's exactly where I intend on staying for the rest of my life. I love you, with everything that I am. So, please stop treating me like I'm made of glass."
His hands rested on her waist, holding her against him. "I'm sorry, Nat. I just...that was too close."
"I know." She said quietly, gazing up into his eyes, picking out all the different shades of blue that lurked within. "I know, but I came back to you. I'm with you, and I don't want to waste another minute feeling like my husband is waiting for me to collaspe again. We're so lucky, Steve, that we both made it out of that. I can't waste that chance. We can't waste it." She reached up and kissed him again, just as commanding as the first time, and bit his lower lip for extra effect. His answering, small chuckle eased the aching in her chest. "I'm with you, and I love you, and we're going to face every day together. There's going to be bad days, and good days, but we have each other."
He squeezed her waist gently. "I love you so much, Natasha." His forehead rested against hers as he inhaled deeply. "I've never been so scared in my entire life." He wasn't just talking about the last few days, but from the minute he'd seen her wielding Mjolnir, when she'd thrown it at Thanos when that brute had held a sword to his throat.
"Neither have I," Natasha's thumb brushed over his jawline, feeling the stubble that had grown over the past few days, as if he hadn't been able to bear being away from her long enough to shave. "When I saw him standing over you...I wanted to scream, I wanted nothing more than to kill him myself, and Mjolnir was right there. It was...lucky, I guess."
Steve shushed her gently. "You have always been worthy, Nat. Thor just said you had to believe in yourself." He kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry, that I made you feel like I was coddling you. You're the strongest person I know, Nat, but I just...I can't help wanting to protect you."
"That's why I love you." She reassured him. "I just...I spent so much of my life not having that with someone. Sometimes, I just can't believe that I have you."
"You're never losing me." Steve promised, and the conviction in his eyes showed that he'd go up against any threat in order to keep her safe. She felt the exact same way about him.
Glancing down at the table, she smiled. "You really didn't have to do all this." The meal in front of her was one of her favourites from their honeymoon, featuring a lot of Wakanda's finest flavours. He'd remembered, despite everything that had happened since they last time they had been here.
"Of course I did. I'd do anything for my best girl." He reminded her, even though she'd always know that.
"Well, then we'd best eat it before it gets cold." She said, even though her lips still tingled for his. Seeing how his eyes darted down to her mouth, also, she added with a smirk, "I remember you promised me more than just a kiss."
The chuckle that erupted into heart-felt laughter was the best sound she'd heard in a very long time, as her husband ducked down and kissed her sweetly. "That I did."
~0~0~0~0~0~
The dinner that Steve had made for them both had been exactly what was needed to refuel their strength, and when Natasha had barely been able to wait until they'd dried up the plates before she'd reached up and claimed his lips in a passionate, defiant kiss. Steve, taken by surprise, stumbled back a little, but as soon as he regained his balance, his hands went to the back of her thighs and lifted her up. His lips swallowed her surprised squeak, but as she wrapped her legs around his waist and was carried into the bedroom, Natasha smiled against his mouth.
Steve lowered her onto the bed, crawling over her body and pressing down against her with the weight of his, lining every hard part of him with every soft part of her. Not realising just how much she'd missed this, Natasha's hands ripped his shirt off without any remorse, and her husband chuckled at her eagerness.
"I want to take this slow, Nat." He whispered against her skin as he peppered kisses along her jaw, sucking underneath her ear in the place that always had her back arching in pleasure. Tonight was no exception, as her chest was crushed against his. "It's been too long, sweetheart."
She practically purred as his lips worshipped her neck, and she tilted her head to the side to present him with even more skin. "Too long." She agreed, even though speaking two words was enough of a struggle. God, how was it possible for someone to drive her so insane with desire?
"You're mine," Steve growled into the column of her throat as his hand made it's way under her shirt, caressing her flat stomach with a few circular strokes before heading upwards. As his palm grazed over her lace-covered breasts, Natasha moaned, the noise filling the apartment. Steve showed his approval at the noise by tweaking a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Mine,"
"All yours," Natasha promised, managing to get the words out throughout another moan. Her back arched again, demanding that his hand continued touching her.
Thankfully, Steve seemed just as eager as she was to get things going, as his hand found it's way underneath the lacy material, so there was no longer a barrier between his skin and hers.
Soon enough, clothes were being thrown across the room, landing all over the place with neither of them caring. Skin to skin, Steve remained above her, his lips mapping out every inch of her now exposed chest, while Natasha's hands ran down his back, along his hips, and when she took a firm hold of him, Steve gasped against her nipple.
"Yours," Natasha repeated, as her body burned for him, for the pleasure that only he could bring her.
Steve's mouth crashed against hers, his tongue sliding inside and playing with hers as he lined himself up to where she wanted him, where she was already dripping for him. Slowly, ever so slowly, he sank into her, moving inch by inch, letting her body adjust to him again. Natasha felt like she was burning alive, like the fire she held for him was consuming her, and she gladly let it. The feeling of him inside her, so big that she felt she was going to explode already, had her writhing underneath him, lifting her hips up in silent demand.
More, more, more.
Her body sang to his, desperate for him. Steve's smile against her mouth showed that he knew exactly what he wanted, and when he started to move in and out of her, they both hissed in delight at the sensation. Two bodies fitting as one, designed to be together, like two halves of a puzzle.
Her husband's scent surrounded her, as his body pushed against hers, as his breath tickled her ear. She kissed him with everything that she had, her nails raking up and down his back as she willed him to keep going, to never stop. Steve didn't seem to have any intention on stopping, but he stuck to his word of taking things slow. Every thrust of his hips was beautifully controlled, seeking deeper inside her every time to bring her the most pleasure that he could. Each thrust was powerful but loving, commanding but listening, patient but yearning.
"I love you." Natasha moaned out against his mouth, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip affectionately as he continued to bring her so many overwhelming sensations.
Steve's hips continued their dance, moving in time with hers as she raised up to him. "I love you, Natasha. Always." With every word, he sank deeper inside her, hitting her at the angle that made her cry out in bliss. Perhaps, the whole of Wakanda could hear them, but Natasha couldn't find it in her to care.
They'd both sacrificed so much, both come too close to death, to take any moment for granted. She'd never let a day go past where Steve wasn't reminded just how much she loved him, how much he'd brought to her life and shaped her into the person she'd always wanted to be. They'd faced death and overcome it, together. Whatever their future brought them, they'd face that too.
"I'm yours." Natasha promised him again, feeling herself fast approaching that glorious edge, ready to topple over it and bring him with her.
In answer, his hips quickened slightly, powerful and steady. He hit that sweet spot over and over again, knowing her body perfectly.
Steve growled in approval at her words, as his hand came up to pay attention to her breasts once again. He'd roll and tweak one nipple and then move to the other, back and forth constantly, timing it to work alongside his thrusts, ensuring she was close.
"I'm yours." Natasha repeated, as her nails sank into his lower back, pushing his hips down forcibly.
She found the edge and fell over it, screaming her husband's name as wave after wave of unexplainable pleasure struck her, coursing through every vein of her body. It burned even more fiercely than the lightning had done. It called to her soul and her heart greater than any element in the world ever could. Her love for him was the strongest thing in the universe, and she'd allow it to surge through her body like this and consume her. She'd shine brightly, because of him.
Steve followed suit, finding his release and claiming her mouth once again as he gave into it. He continued to lift and drop his hips, riding them both through their powerful orgasms, and even when those last waves faded away, he remained inside her.
Reaching up with one hand, Natasha stroked the hair out of Steve's eyes, making a mental note that perhaps a haircut would be due soon, before they returned to some sort of normalcy. That mundane thought was wiped from her mind the second she met his gaze, and saw the devotion and desire that still remained in those blue depths, mirrors to her own green eyes.
"You're perfect." She whispered, and when the corners of his lips twitched in amusement, she insisted, "Absolutely perfect."
Leaning down to kiss her nose, Steve whispered, "My brave, beautiful wife."
Her heart swelled at those words, at the affection that rang clearly through his voice as he spoke about her. She reached up and kissed him once again, savouring the sweet taste of his lips, and relished in the fact that they had a lifetime in front of them. Whatever that entailed.
When they broke apart, Steve pulled out of her and rolled to the side, sitting and throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. As he stood up, Natasha shamelessly admired the coiled muscles of his back and bare ass, and didn't blush even in the slightest as she saw the marks left behind by her nails. Marks that ran down his back, red and commanding. Marks that claimed him as hers.
"And where, do you think you're going?" Natasha asked, coyly stretching out over the empty space in the bed he'd created, well aware that absolutely nothing covered her body.
Steve paused as he turned and took in the sight of her, and there was a small flash of conflict in his eyes as he obviously considered getting back in bed and taking her all over again. She'd had no protests about this, and she subtly arched her back, lifting her ass slightly in invitation as she waited to hear his reason.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I fully intend on spending the next few hours engaging in rather strenuous activity on that bed, so I figured that snacks would be a good idea."
Raising an eyebrow, Natasha tilted her head and asked, "What kind of snacks, husband of mine?" She licked her bottom lip slowly, and his eyes followed the movement, falling into the trap she'd purposefully set.
But, Steve had a staggering amount of self-control - and a level of stubbornness that matched hers so well - so he headed for the doorway. As if staying by that bed any longer was too tempting. "The delicious kind,"
"I had a delicious snack all to myself just now." Natasha remarked, but winked at him and said, "As long as you promise hours of - how did you put it? Strenuous activity."
The dark glint in his eyes was promise enough, and he was gone moments before returning back with several of Natasha's favourite treats from the Wakandan market stores. Shuri had clearly taken the job of getting the apartment ready for them seriously.
Steve stalked back to the bed, his eyes taking in the sight of Natasha, still lying on her front with her ankles locked in the air, that devilish smile that she purposefully flashed him as she greedily enjoyed the sight of him naked before her.
Safe to say, the snacks were placed on the bedside table and forgotten about as soon as Steve climbed back onto the bed, his strong hands flipped her body round, and his head buried itself between her thighs.
~0~0~0~0~0~
Hope you're all enjoying, and staying safe during these tough times.
- E x