I know I said I was gonna write a wedding fic, but this kinda snuck up on me haha

probably takes place in Chapter 1 of i'm so tired (of being afraid) when Nat allows herself one day to grieve

I met the three of you when I wasn't sure who I really was.

But you guys brought my true self out of me. You all were always very good at doing that, at breaking down my walls and tearing down my shields, though maybe it hadn't quite been enough, because I am still here and you are gone, having never met each other.

That's my fault.

Yelena, I met you as a kid.

Not the typical kid, for sure. More like the type of kid brainwashed to become a Russian assassin, as you well know.

I wasn't sure what to make of you at first, this girl with blonde hair and blue eyes who had never stepped foot in the Red Room. I was, I suppose, afraid of tainting you with the blood on my hands, but you would hold on anyways. I remember walking to school with you, our hands swinging together between our bodies. I remember marveling at your lack of callouses, because I had thought all hands were supposed to be rough and weathered.

We're supposed to learn a lot from our older siblings, but I learned a lot from you, too.

I learned how to have fun. I learned how to be an actual kid without the brainwashing. I learned how to be a big sister, and I wasn't perfect but I would like to think I was good enough.

Still, I'm sorry.

I know I couldn't save you from the Red Room, afterwards, or from Thanos, a long time after that. But you have to understand—for the Red Room, not for this fucking mess—that I was a kid, too. An older kid, sure, more hardened, but a kid, nonetheless. That's no excuse, but that's what I have. And I guess a part of me was trying to ignore Ohio, trying to forget I was ever happy, but now I hold onto those memories because they're precious. And you're gone.

Gotta be honest, I don't have a perfect memory. I know, I know. What a shocker. But it pains me to think about, because I can't quite remember how the fireflies in the backyard had looked during summer nights, or what we had drawn on the sidewalk with chalk, or how it had felt to be tackled to the ground by a tiny and warm body, or how good macaroni and cheese had tasted even though it had come from a box, or how your voice had sounded, singing me happy birthday. It hadn't actually been my birthday, of course. I still don't know when that is, but the happiness had been worth it. Your smile had been worth it.

How could we have not lied to you, with that smile? It must have been a shock, to enter the Red Room, to be separated from the only family you had ever known, and the only family I had ever had. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, and it will never be enough, but we never got to fully talk about this, when you had still been here, and now it is too late.

Clint, I met you as the Black Widow.

An assassin and a murderer who didn't believe in her cause.

You helped me make the best decision I have ever made in my life. I hope you know that, wherever you are. I hope you're happy, wherever you are.

Nobody would believe it now, but I was scared, at first, that it was a trap, that SHIELD wouldn't accept me, that I would always be defined by my past, and maybe that last part is still true, but you made it better. You brought me to workplace bonding parties and introduced me to other people, and soon I had made a place for myself there as more than just your shadow.

Do you remember Budapest? That was the mission I decided I would completely trust you to have my back through thick and thin. But you had begun to trust me before then, hadn't you? You've always seen the best in me, somehow.

Anyways, right now I am far from Budapest. Because you are not here.

I let you and your family down, and have I ever told you, how grateful I was and still am that you let me in on that secret? The loves of your life, introduced to a defected Russian assassin unsure of her place in the world. You gave me a place, beside your family, inside your family; you made space for me. Cooper and Lila and Nate (still perpetually the little traitor) called me 'Auntie Nat' and I will never not be amazed by that. When I had been in the Red Room, pretending to be emotionless, I could have never imagined that.

And do you remember, that one time you shot water balloons at half of SHIELD? You hadn't missed, of course, and you'd gotten caught, of course. But you hadn't been punished. Or, well, you had, but the definition of punishment is different in the Red Room. I needed that, I needed to see that, to see that you were okay. Looking back on it now, that prank was so dumb, but I remember your grin at hearing my laughter and seeing my smile. You always got so much joy from seeing other people happy, not least of all your children.

You smiled less and less after the whole Sokovia Accords thing, and part of that might be because I saw you less and less after that. But for a time, you were at peace. Do you remember that? I remember that. Sometimes, I wish we could go back.

Matt, I met you as Natalie Rushman.

Which is honestly less of an identity crisis than I am used to, but I'm trying to stick with a theme here, and it is this: you found a way to unravel my secrets, digging deep enough to find me. You made me more than a side-thought even though you had every reason to do so.

There are so many possible ways we could have never met, but I'm glad we did. I'm glad I got to know you.

Maybe it scared you at first. I have to admit being an almost-stalker was probably not the greatest impression. But I was scared too. I had no fucking clue what I was doing, but I knew you made things better, and life is too short not to take chances.

You've turned to dust, and it hurts but still, I'm glad I knew you. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

You were unsure of your conflicting identities, but let me tell you this: that is what caught my attention in the first place, that is what made you you, that is what made me fall in love with you. Lawyer vs. vigilante, idealism vs. pessimism, religion vs. violence. Forgive me for this overused metaphor, but you balanced those scales well. You made it look easy. I know it wasn't, but we could pretend very well together, couldn't we?

Despite all the burdens life had dished out on you, you kept being so very kind. I don't understand how. I wish I could, because it had made me feel better, to have you by my side and to know you were always waiting for me back home. You made me a better person. I haven't forgiven you for the heart attacks you've given me, but still, you were a good person, far too good for me.

I know you probably needed to hear that before, so here it is, in writing that you...can't even read, now that I think about it. It's the sentiment that counts, I guess. None of you can read this from beyond the grave.

Anyways, Matt, you were always so conflicted and fighting with the world and yourself and maybe, for a time, I gave you a way to take a break, a chance to rest. I hope I did that for you, Matt, even though it is so miniscule compared to all the things you did for me.

I'm not sure what to do with myself without you all. How do I move on? How do I do anything without you? I feel like I defined so much of myself by my relationships, and now that is all gone.

You all built me up, sure, built me up so I could be my own person, but maybe a part of me will always be connected to you.

Is that okay? Is grief supposed to hurt this much? Is it always going to? I don't know, I don't really know anything. This is unprecedented and I hate it. So much. I wish...

Just, if I could trade my life for any one of yours, I would.

Are the three of you together? Because I have things to say to all of you too late, and I'm not sure if I could stand repeating the same thing three times...or even saying these words out loud.

I miss you all. I love you all. I don't think I ever said that enough, when it had mattered.

Here's something else I never said: I'm not the type of person to stay, but I would have, for any of you.

Yelena, I would have stayed for your kindness, and your laughter, and your wry humor.

Clint, I would have stayed for your unwavering support, and your shitty jokes, and your open shows of affection.

Matt, I would have stayed for your determination to do right, your ability to see the good in everyone, and your optimism in the face of darkness.

Maybe it doesn't matter, maybe I shouldn't dwell on the past. But the past defines you, builds you up, breaks you down. I hope it matters, what I would have done, if I had been given the chance, if I hadn't been too scared to take the chance.

It's wishful thinking, but I do hope the three of you are together, that maybe you can meet in death when you couldn't in life.

I'm sorry, again. I can say that an infinite number of times and it will never be enough.

I can still see the three of you in my head, sitting around a table sharing silly anecdotes and sending jabs at one another, bantering and joking around and laughing. I'd kept you all from that.

But here, now, even if it's too late, maybe it doesn't have to be that way.

Share your stupid blind and deaf jokes. Share embarrassing stories about me, I won't mind. Talk about good missions and bad missions. Share sparring tips. Play pranks on each other and win or lose at monopoly. Argue and fight but make up afterwards. In the end, be a family.

I know I never stayed with any of you too long in life. You were always the ones left waiting for me.

Well, it's my turn.

I'm no longer running.

I'll be here, I'll be waiting.

Until next time,

Nat

Title from "Earth," by Sleeping At Last.