Chapter 2

Natalia Romanova. Natasha Romanoff. Black Widow. They were all names of hers. But the friendlier ones, the ones that he called her, were not written on the red felt inside her casket. The names "Nat", "Tasha", and "Widow" were not inscribed. Because that would have made it to permanent, that would be the last string to be cut, breaking Clint Barton's heart. And he couldn't stand that. So he watched as the S.H.E.I.L.D operatives cleaned up his fallen partner and spoke softly to one another. Every now and then, one would stop and say a quiet word in Natasha's ear. 'As if she could hear it', he thought bitterly. Leaning against the wall across from the mortuary, he heaved a deep sigh, pushing back the tears that yet again threatened to spill down his hollow cheeks. He'd replayed the scene in his mind over and over. Why did she have to go and sacrifice herself? He'd cursed Loki with a passion after his partner had fallen. Every arrow he shot exploded with the rage of a hero in agony.

When the battle had finally been won, they'd all gone back to where Clint had hidden Natasha's body. They had all stared at it a good long while, before Clint had picked it up, cradling her limp body to his chest, his eyes empty. Banner had changed back and was staring on with sorrow in his dark eyes. He'd seen so much pain and death (Some caused by him) but he could never make himself immune to it. Tony Stark was quiet. His eyes were grey and he looked more exhausted than anyone Banner had ever seen. Steve was also looking at Natasha's motionless form, sadness in his eyes. And all of a sudden, Steve actually looked like he'd been frozen for 70 years. He looked like a Captain who'd lost his soldier. Banner hated the pain in everyone's eyes. All of a sudden, he had an idea. Maybe. Just maybe, it could work.

The ceremony for the Black Widow's death was probably different from most heroes. The typical hero starts out with powers beyond their imagination, and then tries to do good things with them. S.H.I.E.L.D eventually catches up with them. Some of them have a choice. They can join S.H.I.E.L.D, or go off on their own again. Others aren't so lucky. Others have no choice but to join the secret organization because it's the only way they can survive without people following them, hunting them for their gifts. But no hero, at least to Clint's knowledge, had ever been given the ceremony of the Black Widow.

She had been different than any other hero. She'd joined basically by force. She'd been working for the Russians as a spy and an assassin. She had a lot of red on her ledger. When Clint offered her the chance to clear the ledger and gain friends, or him shooting her through the head with an exploding arrow, she'd leaped at the chance to join S.H.I.E.L.D. Who wouldn't? So when she turned hero, it was different than any hero before her. Sure, Clint was also an ex-assassin who'd been trained to get any job done, no matter the cost. But he'd jumped for the chance to leave that life as well. He wanted life free from orders and blood on his own hands. He wanted a choice, and the power to save people. But they had still been different. Natasha had adapted slowly to the new world she'd been dragged into. No one dared to go into her room except Clint because they feared what kind of traps awaited them. He was the only one who knew where the trip wire on her floor was. A villain had turned good. That was a new one to S.H.I.E.L.D. But after much convincing they sent her out on missions. And now, after everything that had happened since their first encounter on the rooftop, to the activation of the "Avengers Initiative", she was considered a true hero. This made Clint proud somewhere in his heart. He could practically hear her smile her true Natasha smile.

I finally have a clean ledger.

But as the dark casket made its way through the crowd to the top of the stage for Nick Fury to give his quiet personal thanks to her, everyone seemed to be holding in breath, as if waiting for Natasha to sit up and start flinging knives and curses. The Avengers stood beside Fury, to give their thanks to their fallen teammate. As the crowd dispersed, only Fury and the team who had saved the world stood in the large room. Steve was the first to gather the guts to say his goodbye.

"You were one of the best soldiers I've ever had the privilege to fight alongside. I wish you peace and happiness."

Tony bit his cheek before stepping forward to give a watery smile to the girl lying in the casket as if she was only sleeping.

"Too bad we didn't meet earlier Romanoff. You would have made a great practice partner. Pepper would have loved you. Remember that you are always part of the team ok? No matter what."

Banner took a deep breath through his nose, and then grasped Natasha's hand gently.

"You were the first to believe I could be something better. And the first time you met the 'other guy' I let you down. But I swore to myself I wouldn't let you down again. I'd seen it in your eyes. You'd been just as lost as I was. So I knew I could always count on you. And I hoped you'd think of me the same way. But I still let you down. Yet, I know you'd forgive me." He gave a small smile. "Because that's just the kind of person you are. It was a pleasure to be your friend Natasha Romanoff. And thank you, for everything you've done."

It was Clint's turn now. And all of a sudden, he didn't think he could do it. If he said goodbye, it would be too final. The world would really stop spinning then. And the tiny strings that held his heart together would snap. He would spiral into nothingness and dream of nothing but her death, and his horrors. With a nudge from Banner, who gave him a sympathetic squeeze on the shoulder, Clint walked forward, slowly to the open casket of his best friend.

"Oh, God Nat there are so many things I wish I could say. So many things I never got the chance to say. You were the best partner anyone could ask for, even though you would fight anyone, even me, with a sharp knife and barbed tongue. You helped me become better, you looked up to me. I never knew what that felt like until now. You saved me from Loki, and I while I can never forgive myself for hurting and killing so many people, I don't think I will ever forget nor forgive myself for hurting you. You saved me, in so many ways. And in the end, I couldn't save you. I am so sorry for that. Thank you Nat. Thank you so much. Thank you for being my everything." As the lid closed, Banner had his eyes closed, mumbling a small prayer under his breath. Clint didn't bother hiding the tears that fell down his rugged cheeks now. He had many scars, but this scar on his heart would never heal.

The lid was closed now, and Clint felt the last few shreds of his heart disintegrate. It hurt so badly! He had to struggle to remain upright. He realized that Tony and Steve had their hands on his shoulders, not attempting to move him.

Then, there was a banging. Where was it coming from? The group looked around prepared for attacks. Thor and Loki had gone back to Asagard so that problem shouldn't be an issue.

Then Banner's face broke into a smile, and shoved the others away from the casket. He opened it with a little difficulty. The others stood speechless. And then Banner turned around with a grin that could light up all of Manhattan. A figure stood up and stretched behind him.

"Can someone please tell me why I'm wearing a red dress right now?"

The entire team (Minus Banner) gaped in astonishment.

"Nat?" Clint croaked in astonishment.

The flaming dangerous red head clambered gracefully out of the dark obsidian casket, as if she climbed out of coffins on a daily basis. Swinging her arms a few times, to loosen her muscles she flashed her daring smile. Then, staring at her friend's opened mouths; she looked around, and turned to Banner who seemed the only one who knew what was going on.

"Have I missed something?"