A/N: This is a repost. I had to fix a few little mistakes that don't actually make much difference to the story so no worries there!

DISCLAIMER: *sigh* nope

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Six weeks. Forty-two days. One thousand and eight hours. That was how long Clint sat in Natasha's hospital room and waited for her to open her eyes. To twitch. To do anything. And every second she didn't move, Clint wished pain and suffering on the people who did this to her. The only comfort he had in all this was he killed Vargas the first chance he had. That bastard wouldn't hurt anyone else ever again.

Tony and Steve were in and out constantly but they had to keep up with their work. Fury had Clint on temporary leave, knowing he would be useless until he knew if Natasha would survive or not. The whole world could burn down around him and he still wouldn't care. It deserved to burn if Natasha died. He didn't even care anymore.

It was hour one thousand and nine when Tony came in again, looking exhausted and a little battered. He fell into his usual seat across from Clint and closed his eyes, his head tipping back. Clint thought he was sleeping at first but after a few minutes Tony sighed and let his head drop into his hands, "No change?"

Clint shook his head, "Nothing."

"The doctors saying anything new?"

"Her brain activity is dropping. They say if she continues on like this she'll be completely brain dead before the month ends and then I have to decide whether or not to pull the plug."

"What's her Glasgow at?"

"Six. She still reacts to pain but that's it."

Tony's shoulders seem to fall and Clint knows Natasha's condition is taking its toll on all of them. There's bags under Tony's eyes that weren't there before and Clint can feel the hair on his chin growing thicker every day. He can't remember the last time he shaved. The last time he saw Steve the soldier looked ready to collapse, the bags under his eyes even darker than Tony's and stubble starting to form on his jawline. Clint knew if Natasha saw them she would smack them all for being so useless. The thought made him smile for about half a second before he sighed out and looked to Tony, "Why did she have to put me in charge of deciding whether or not she lives or dies?"

Tony snorted, sounding a little like his old self for a moment, "You're her partner and while you both swear that's all there is to it everyone knows that's a lie. She loves you, bird brain and you love her. Even if you both refuse to admit it. Damn assassin, too stubborn for your own good."

Clint shook his head with a sad little chuckle, "Yeah, well too bad neither one of us will ever be able to confirm your little theory. More than likely she isn't going to make it. If that does happen I won't be here long. I already know that. I won't be able to stick around."

They've had this same conversation almost every single day but this time instead of arguing, Tony just nods, "I know. To be honest, I'm not sure I will either. Romanoff was the one who pulled me into this whole mess in the first place. And now Steve is saying he doesn't think he's going to stick around either. He's angry, even if he doesn't show it as much as we do. I think part of him blames Fury for all of this and I think the other part blames himself. Fury shouldn't have let her go but we could have kept her from coming with us."

"You said it yourself Tony, there was no stopping her."

"She was asleep, Barton. We woke her up when we figured out where you were. She probably would have slept through the entire rescue mission. This all could have been avoided."

Clint shook his head, "You don't know her like I do. She may have been asleep for an hour, possibly two with her injuries, but that's it. And when she woke up she would have been pissed and chased you both down. You know that."

"But two hours could have been enough of a lead for us to finish everything before she even arrived."

"Tony, I don't blame you for this. No one does. Natasha is a stubborn Russian and she listens to no one. You did the best thing in that situation, trust me."

"I guess."

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Two more weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six more hours of nothing. Natasha's brain activity was dropping more every day and Clint knew it was only a matter of time before he was forced to choose whether or not to kill his partner. The doctors told him by that point she would already be dead but they didn't get it. He would be telling them to give up, admitting that he had already given up, and that was more painful than he cared to imagine.

Fury visited four times during those two weeks. Four times more than he had in the first six weeks Natasha was in a coma. Clint figured word had finally reached him about Natasha. She was dying. It all seemed so wrong to Clint. Natasha wasn't supposed to die in a hospital bed hooked up to machines, slowly withering away. She was supposed to go out with a bang, something both of them used to laugh about together. Dying a heroic death. It was ironic, two trained assassins with more blood on their hands than they cared to admit dying in the line of duty protecting others. It seemed so wrong back then, now Clint wished it was that way. Because this, this was not the death Natasha deserved.

"Stark requested a leave of absence this morning. Said he needed a break. Rogers isn't far behind, I can see it. He's growing sluggish, distant from everything. Banner hasn't contacted anyone since he learned of Romanoff's condition. And you haven't left this room in eight weeks," Fury said during one of his visits.

While Clint knew Fury would never admit it, he could tell this was taking a massive toll on the Director as well. He didn't carry his worry the same way as the rest of them but Clint could hear it in the edge of his voice, see it just glimmering in his eyes. Worry, fear. Everything Clint had felt for eight weeks now as he watched Natasha's body deteriorate, "I guess the Avengers weren't as strong as you thought."

Fury shook his head, "Caring for someone isn't a weakness. You'll all grieve but eventually you'll be back stronger than before because this time you have to avenge one of your own. You can't kill Nutian but there will be others out there who need to be stopped. And you'll stop them because any one of their victims could have been Romanoff. You'll see her in every innocent slaughtered, every victim brutalized and tortured. And every time you save someone, you've made her death worth a little more."

Clint couldn't say anything to that. He couldn't tell Fury there was no way in hell he would continue on with the Avengers or even S.H.I.E.L.D. if Natasha didn't pull through. It wouldn't be possible. Too many memories, too much pain. Too much anger. So instead he said nothing and simply continued watching his partner die. Eventually Fury left, knowing he wouldn't get anything else out of Clint.

Two days later word of Steve's departure reached Clint. He didn't even care.

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One more week. Seven days. One hundred and sixty-eight short hours later and the doctors said Nastasha would only last a few more days at most. They told him he should start considering his options. His options. That was when Clint started losing it. He punched the doctor in the face the moment the words left his mouth and had to be sedated and restrained. He was livid when he woke up. Lucky for them they kept him in Natasha's room at Fury's order.

Tony visited again that day, something he'd been doing more frequently now that was off missions. He looked terrible and when Pepper came in shortly after him Clint noticed her eyes were red and puffy. She and Natasha had grown closer after the Loki incident. Being the only females drew them a little closer. Clint was surprised this was Pepper's first visit.

She put her arms around Clint's shoulders when she walked in, giving him a small squeeze and a kiss on the cheek, "I'm so sorry, Clint."

Clint gave a tight smile, "Thank you Pepper."

"Of course. I would have been here sooner but Tony didn't tell me everything until yesterday."

"I didn't want to worry you if Tasha woke up. But now…" he trailed off, eyes drifting to Natasha.

"She could still wake up. The doctors said it's happened before. It's very rare but possible," Clint said, refusing to give up all hope just yet. He was determined to hold onto the hope of her waking up until the moment they pulled that plug and she completely faded.

Pepper nodded through tears. "You're right. There's always a chance."

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The funeral for Natasha Romanoff was held four days later. It was small. Only a handful of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents including Maria Hill and Nick Fury. Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson and Pepper Potts were also in attendance. Clint Barton, however, was not seen that day or the next. It was over two weeks before Tony was able to locate him in Germany at the bottom of a beer bottle. He was completely wasted and barely coherent. It took two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to haul him out of the bar, by the time they reached the quinjet he was completely passed out.

He woke up two days later in Stark tower, completely aware of his surroundings for the first time in over fourteen days. And he hated it. Pepper was there, reading a book and looking ready to nod off. She smiled sadly when she noticed he was awake, "How are you feeling?"

Clint blinked a few times, taking in the pounding behind his eyes and the way his stomach seemed to be on a roller coaster that wouldn't end, "Like hell. How did I get here?"

Pepper handed him a glass of water and helped him sit up, wedging pillows behind his back so he could lean into them, "Tony managed to track you down in Germany and Fury sent two agents to retrieve you. They had to drag you to the quinjet and by the time they got you there you were already passed out. Tony told them to bring you here and Fury agreed it was probably the best place for you. We've been pumping fluids into you for two days now but your liver is probably going to be angry at you for a another day or so after the amount of alcohol you consumed these past few weeks."

"Well tell Tony thanks but I was perfectly fine with the way things were in that bar. Once I'm able to move without my head screaming at me I'll be out of your hair."

Pepper frowned and he saw her eyes harden, "You are not going to drink yourself into an early grave. I know Natasha...dying was hard on you but it was hard on all of us. This is not the way to handle it. She would kill you if she could see you now."

"But she can't see me now because she's dead, Pepper. She's dead."

Pepper didn't flinch at his words but he could see her eyes growing wet with unshed tears, "I know she's dead, Clint. But drowning yourself in alcohol is not going to change that. She's gone and you need to accept that."

"How can I accept it?! It was my fault! This all happened because I screwed up in Beijing and she had to come pull my ass out of the fire. And then she ends up dead because of it. So tell me Pepper, how am I supposed to accept that my best friend's death is on my hands?!"

Pepper put her arms around him then and he froze, "Clint, I know it hurts but you can't blame yourself. She chose to come after you because you were her partner. She knew the risks and she still came. Just like you knew the risks when you willingly met with the men who hurt her alone because you didn't want anything else to happen to her. If she was here now, I don't think she would regret any of the choices she made. She loved you, Clint. Just like you loved her."

"Love, not loved. I still love her and I probably will until the day I die and join her in hell or wherever it is cold-blooded assassins end up."

Pepper pulled back and smiled through her tears, "It's not hell. Neither one of you deserves hell after all the good you've done."

Clint scoffed, "Yeah, sure. Either way, I won't be able to see her again until I die too. But if I kill myself before my number is really up I know she'll kill me all over again on the other side. So I'm left here to suffer because she was selfish and died too soon. How is that fair?"

Pepper shrugged and shook her head, "It isn't. But life never is."

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PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. Contemplate murdering me in your head and then read the next chapter. I promise it all makes sense then you won't want to murder me anymore, okay? I didn't prep ya'll for this because honestly, I didn't plan this. It sort of just...happened. I'm already in the process of figuring out where everything goes from here in the sequel (yes, I said sequel) so it may take me a bit but I will get it up. As always, reviews are loved!