Clint is out, knocked cold on his ass by something with a mean roundhouse kick.
Bruce is lost.
Thor is probably dead.
Coulson is most definitely dead.
Coulson is down.
And Natasha wants kindness. The child in her heart wants a hug and reassurance and for this to all be a bad dream.
The monster in her laughs and says she has known worse.
And the woman in her wants a soft voice with warm brown eyes.
Coulson is down.
She wants Coulson. She wants her handler. She wants to sit down with him at Clint's farmhouse and watch him interact with the kids he never got to have.
She wants to rest.
So, she gets up and goes to report back for duty, hiding a limp and a broken rib and something much more painful than both of those combined.
Just like always.