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Natasha's POV

This so-called super team was nothing of the sort. They were all floating off the ground, they had no anchor. I suppose one could say I had no anchor, nothing to keep me from flying above reality and stabilized me.

Ironically, this thought was going through my mind as I crash landed onto the floor after an explosion ripped through the section of the helicarrier we were meeting at.

As the shards stopped raining over me I assessed the situation, my foot was stuck rather painfully under debris. Banner was next to me bathing heavily. Banner!

I reported to Fury over the comms that we were alright, everything changed so quickly. Banner was turning green, multiplying in size I watched as I struggled my foot to freedom. The Hulk was now in front of me, I freed myself but hesitated and peered into Banner's eyes.

To my disgust, I was terrified. I lived comfortably with the thought that I could defeat almost any human that threatened me. I prided my safety on feeling physically invincible. My great fear is losing, it's always been, ever since I could remember I hated losing. The Red Room taught me that losing was synonymous to death bought upon yourself. I couldn't beat the Hulk, I couldn't outsmart it, in the same way an ant can't outsmart a boot. This was truly my biggest fear.

I ran with that thought, I was too slow, too weak, and too small. Even crouching and hiding, in a moment of eerie calm, I couldn't help but find myself reviewing all the faces I would miss seeing, Fury's, Coulson's, even Agent Hill and I were considered close friends. Laura, Clint or my two darling tiny Barton's didn't come up. I couldn't face that thought, I couldn't think about not seeing them again. I function off of them, I can't die, I can't not be there with them, I need them.

The fight was one once again, I ran through a corridor believing that I could be faster, stronger, better. He advanced on me then lazily slapped me into a wall and I crumbled. Then I saw them. Clint talking to me in my dorm, Laura teaching me the basics of cooking on a late afternoon, and Cooper and Lila playfully tackling me in the backyard as we rolled around on the cooler fall morning. These were all different times, connected by one common factor. These were the moments that I knew I loved and cared for these people more than anything else, and I would give anything for them. I wasn't going to die. Before Thor rammed through the wall sent Hulk into a different section, I knew I couldn't die. I had to get Clint back to his family, because giving anything to this family meant giving their husband and father back. I couldn't die without doing that, first.

When Thor did relieve the Hulk from delivering the blow that would indeed kill me, the intensity of what had just occurred set in. I had no partner to watch my back physically or emotionally. I was doing this on my own, I almost died. I almost died? Those words came up so often but rarely did I take them seriously. I never felt as completely out of control in a fight as I just did. I began to panic. Oh, great.

The panic was deep-seated. It wasn't just the Hulk, it was Clint not being Clint and my life running way too fast way too personal. Everything these past few hours have hit untouched emotional trauma, that need of people that weren't there. As if on cue, Fury's voice came in rushed, I heard him clearly. I spoke up, I still had my mission to complete.

"This is agent Romanoff, I copy," my voice was lower than normally, obviously no one would notice.

I tracked down Barton, my heart broke when I saw him. I hadn't seen him in about three months, or maybe it was four. My emotions were running because of what was about to happen. I had confidence I could beat Barton, I did it all the time when we sparred, but I was rewriting my worst fear from earlier today. As I dropped down behind him, I knew that this would hurt far more than anything the Hulk could do to me.

Barton swung his bow around to aim at me, I grabbed it and turned it. He treated me to an elbow jab and swung his bow at me at which I returned with a kick, and then another. My mind was blank for a bit, I couldn't quite process what was taking place, Barton being one of my targets. He followed me as I switched platforms then swung his bow at me a second time. So, it appeared he wasn't trying to fight me off enough to escape, he was out for blood. That became increasingly evident when he pulled a knife.

"Dirty move, Barton," I thought to myself before he launched himself at me. When he attempted to punched me I grabbed his fist, kicked his torso before I strained his arm behind him.

"It's a good thing I play dirtier," there was something sickening about these witty thoughts when the target was one of my only genuine friends. However, there wasn't such time to dwell on that while I dodged a knife from scarring my face.

His blade became a larger issue as he tried to push towards my neck. I knew I couldn't lose this fight, not for me, for Clint. I couldn't comprehend what it'll do to him to wake from Loki's control and recall slicing my throat. He couldn't forgive that, he couldn't move on from that. So I had to fight for the both of us.

In an effort to restrain my movement, he pulled my hair so I bit his arm. This was becoming a fight between school children. Nevertheless, he lost control of the knife and gave me the upper hand. I flipped out of grasp and I used his arm to guide his head into a metal bar. His yelp from pain stabbed me as he struggled to sit up.

"Tasha?"

He said my name. Barton said my name with those icy blue eyes. Loki. Loki said my name, that angered me. Barton's body, Loki's mind. I loved Clint enough to do what I did next. The punch left him knocked out like a drunk. I stared wondering how I was going get past this.

Reality had other plans. I realized this when Fury's voice came over the comms once again. Coulson. I leaned against the railing and felt the sting of bruises on my back from the Hulk, I saw guards drag Clint's lifeless body away, and suddenly the world was turning over and over. Every fear, every worst scenario would quiver at the chaos aboard the helicarrier.

I forced myself to walk, not sure where yet. I needed to cry or scream or simply panic but I didn't want to do it alone. Clint taught me that whenever I felt the way I feel right now, I had to talk to him. That wasn't an option, but I did have a replacement.

I stole a SHIELD secure phone, and found an empty closet. I sat on the floor amongst the cleaning supplies and pitch darkness. Then the hysteria began, I cried painfully loud as I tried to see the keypad so I could dial the number.

"Hello?" a soft voice answered. It only made me sob heavier. "Who is this?" the voice wasn't harsh but concerned.

"Laura," I choked, "Laura," I couldn't find any words.

"Nat, is that you?" I could hear footsteps, probably rushing into a secluded area, "Nat, where's Clint?"

Of course, I'd only make this call if Clint were in dire straits, I suddenly felt selfish she probably believes her husband is dead. "Its-its… Clint will be fine. Coulson is- he's-" I started gasping for air. "Laura I have no one."

"Tasha, I need you to stop talking and listen to me," she shifted to urgent and authoritative, "whatever happens, you have me. If Clint isn't there and the sky is falling, you'll have me."

I sobbed and caught my breath. She continued, "Nat, I know it feels impossibly heavy right now, just know that I here to help you carry it, you're not alone, you have a partner."

My break down, was easing its control over me I felt like I could form complete sentences once again. "Laura, I just faced every worst nightmare in one morning." I sounded far away from reality.

"Sweetie, remember that everyone wakes up from a nightmare, no matter how real it feels, we wake up and we heal."

I calmed down, I felt rested. "Laura?"

"Yes?"

"I'm coming home, I'm coming home soon."

"You've been dearly missed Tasha. And Nat?" she sighed, "bring my husband with you."

"Okay," I whispered before hanging up. I stood up I stepped outside of the closet and leaned against the door clutching the phone to my chest. I closed eyes and steadied myself before walking towards the room Clint was being held, it was time to be strong for someone else.

Alright, that was a bit angsty. Let me know how you feel about it, please. Thank you everyone.