So, this one is Natasha centric. Might wind up being more of a short oneshot this time around.
She pretty much always knew she cared about Clint. She didn't like it, not in the least. But it was an unfortunate truth, and in her eyes, life was full of those, so she didn't balk about it. Much.
But that was it. Everyone else she'd cared for was long gone, so she made a habit of not adding anyone else to that list. Very few people tried to get close to her, and she was more than fine with that. She preferred it.
But then Nick Fucking Fury had pulled together the Avengers and a group of misunderstood, boisterous, and most of all dysfunctional individuals forced their way into her life and very resolutely remained there.
So she'd built yet another wall around herself, and this one was so strong even Clint was having trouble with it, even though he was the only one who understood what she was doing. But what was messing with her mind was that they didn't give up after they tried a few times and it didn't fall down. That had only happened once before, and she still sometimes wondered if it had been a good or a bad thing.
They welcomed her with all the little things, the ones that mean the most in the long run.
She'd walk downstairs in the mornings and Thor would greet her with a warm smile despite the fact that she never returned it. Steve poured her a cup of coffee despite the fact that she never thanked him. Later in the day, when she'd wander into the lab, Bruce would talk to her despite the fact that she rarely responded. Tony would come up with gadgets for her despite the fact that she would never make it up to him.
And Clint... Clint did the most. He sat up with her when her nightmares woke up the entire tower. He knew when she needed him and when she needed to be left alone. He talked her out of her bad decisions and refused to abandon her, even if she screamed at him all the things she knew hurt the worst.
All of them would give their lives for her, despite the fact that each and every one of them were worth twenty of her.
She didn't want them to feel that they needed to do that. She didn't want any more red on her ledger.
But it was happening without her consent.
...
An explosion knocked her to her hands and knees, and it was less than a second before, she found a metallic hand helping her up. She ignored it and stood up with a slight groan, and Tony looked at her for a moment longer before taking off once more. She raised her gun once more, only to be distracted by the loud crash of metal on metal. She glanced up.
A missile from one of the HYDRA drones had hit him in the chest. It wasn't a dead-on blow, it was more the side of it that actually hit him. But it still sent him tumbling back into the lower level of what appeared to be a deserted apartment building (that entire street had been evacuated), taking Thor with him and bring the entire structure down on top of them.
Her breath caught in her throat.
With that realization, she turned back to her enemies with a renewed rage. It wasn't that she didn't know it would take more than that to take out Iron Man and Thor. It wasn't that the fact that they may have been injured that enraged her so.
It was the fact that it wasn't until they were climbing out of the wreckage that her heart slowed. It was the fact that it mattered.
It wasn't supposed to matter.
They weren't supposed to matter.