The flight from Tokyo to New York seemed unending. Clint didn't sleep at all. He never even tried. Natasha managed a few hours, but mostly stayed awake matching Barton's brooding silence. There was nothing to talk about anyway. Nothing. It had been a matter of hours since he had taken her hand and ended five years of isolation and savagery. That was the first time she'd heard his voice since before The Snap.

After their meeting on the street she had given him the quinn jet's coordinance. There she waited while he went to retrieve what little belongings he had from whatever rat hole he was living in that week. Part of her doubted he would come. But he did. He climbed the ramp out of the rain and tossed his bag of mostly gear off to the side. Then he dropped himself unceremoniously into the first waiting seat. No words, no buckle. He just sat there. That night his presence was as much as he could give. She'd take it.

For most of the flight Natasha sat up front just letting the view of the night wash over her. At some point when they had caught up with the sun she moved from the co pilot seat and went back to sit near him. His eyes were closed but she could see he wasn't sleeping. She said nothing and studied the unfamiliar tatoo on his left arm. She didn't care what he'd done or who he thought he was now. He was her family, the one who'd given her a life, and she missed him.

The sound of his voice cut through the droning of the engines.

"I'm not the guy you knew."

His eyes opened to look at her and she met his hardened gaze. They'd known each other too deeply for too long for her not to see the shame it held. Almost immediately he looked away from her again.

"I'm not the same either." she said quietly.

He looked up to see her staring out the window. She sat across from him, braver, stronger, more resolute than either of them had ever been. She believed. He didn't. But he'd taken her hand and followed her anyway. For five years she searched for hope and when she found it, no matter how small or fragile, she crossed the planet to share it with him.

"No" he agreed. "You're not."

Her eyes met his again. He didn't look away.

"You're better."

. . .

I just turned on Endgame for the first time since my 4th trip to the theater in May 2019. I just didn't have it in me. Anyway... These two. Am I right? *goes and cries forever*