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thatonebrazilian · 1 year

Text

Tolerate it

Summary: Everyone assumed you were fine, but what would they do if you just... broke free?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader; undertones of Carol Danvers x Reader; Platonic Clint Barton x Reader; mentions of platonic Wanda Maximoff x Reader.

Word count: Around 6K

TW: Deep angst, assassination attempt, betrayal of trust, suicidal thoughts, dealing with grief, self sacrifices.

A/N: I've been in the mood for angst, apparently. And I actually wasn't planning on writing anything (I shouldn't have, I was short for time as it was), but I was listening to Taytay and the fic just came to me. This will probably hurt a lot. Just hurt, not much comfort. Let there be pain.

You didn't know what you did wrong. You didn't know how you could fix this. You didn't know if it even could be fixed.

All you did, all you could do, was just sit there and watch her. She was reading, her head low, almost as if she was trying to keep a barrier between you two.

You sat in the corner of the room, watching her as she immersed herself in reports. The soft glow of the lamp cast a delicate halo around her, illuminating her beautiful, beautiful features. And yet, on that night, as on many before, the light seemed unable to reach her eyes.

You knew she was struggling, you were too. Everyone was. The Blip had taken many from their families, and the toll it took on those who stayed made many more lose their loved ones. The remaining Avengers lost Clint to his own darkness, and you lost the love of your life to what you could only describe as self-isolation.

Natasha had always had an unhealthy work-life balance, yet you always managed to counter that… But not anymore.

You had been together for what felt like an eternity, intertwined in a love that once knew no bounds. Now, though, there was a growing chasm separating the two of you. Natasha would only engage in conversations that revolved around missions and saving the world, and none of those came from you.

You used to be an Avenger too, with powers so astronomical that you never learned to control them. Bruce and Tony had to create some sort of inhibitor for you, lest you destroy the world by mistake.

You were probably one of the most powerful beings out there, but having no control whatsoever of your powers would only bring destruction, so you learned to live without them, the bracelet Tony made never leaving your wrist.

Being a somewhat powerless avenger was hard, but it was worth it. You saved people, you helped your friends.

But since the Blip things have changed.

After watching Wanda, one of your best friends, disappear right in front of your eyes; after seeing Clint's descent into darkness, you didn't feel like fighting anymore. So you decided to stop, you stopped so you could take care of yourself, take care of Natasha.

They were small, the things you did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. You'd wait by the door every day to greet her like a god-damned war hero, to show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work; you'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with your best cutlery; you even took upon painting as it seemed to ease your mind, and you'd use your best colors for her portraits (and there were many)... And yet, all Natasha gave back were lukewarm smiles; hums, and nods in acknowledgment of your attempts at conversation, and a lackluster "thanks".

She seemed to simply… Tolerate it.

You woke up in the wee hours of the morning, the sun hadn't risen yet, and the moonlight shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Your gaze fell upon Natasha, who lay beside you sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring you comfort.

But then, as you watched her, you noticed a subtle alteration in her breathing patterns, something that would go unnoticed by anyone else. The steady rhythm became irregular, interrupted by moments of slightly shallower breaths and the briefest of pauses. There was a tension in her muscles that hadn't been there a second ago, almost as if a silent battle was being waged beneath her immaculate skin.

Natasha's eyes remained closed, her face serene as if she was lost in the most peaceful of dreams. But you knew the truth. She was pretending to be asleep. It felt like she didn't want to wake up beside you, like she simply tolerated your presence, but now even that tolerance seemed to be waning.

You wanted to reach out, to offer her solace, to take all the pain away, but the invisible barrier between you seemed impossible to break through. The distance that had grown between you now felt like a vast expanse, impossible to bridge. Her closed eyes spoke volumes, a silent plea for space, for time, for avoidance.

Your heart ached with the weight of unspoken words, your eyes burned with the sting of unshed tears. You missed Clint, he'd know how to deal with this, he'd help her, but he'd help you, too. He'd hug you and tell you that everything was gonna be ok, he'd make sure it'd turn out that way. You missed Wanda, she'd take you out to eat ice cream, watch silly sitcoms with you, tell you the stupidest jokes just to see you crack a smile, she'd even threaten Natasha if she imagined the other redhead was hurting you in any way, shape or form.

You missed your life, your old life, before the Blip.

You turned away from her, not wanting her to see the tears in your eyes in case she opened hers.

As it turns out, the first time Natasha had a semblance of a real conversation with you in… You don't even know how many weeks… Was to ask you to join a team to take down whatever new evil had shown up.

You didn't even think twice about it, you took the job, you'd do anything to get closer to her again.

The team consisted of you, Steve, and Carol, who was visiting Earth. You didn't even know where you were headed or who you were facing, you just wanted to come back with an excuse to actually talk to your fianceé.

As you prepared to get into the jet, you saw her there, giving off directions before everyone boarded. You wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between respecting Natasha's need for distance and the overwhelming desire to break through the walls she had erected.

You felt a hand on your shoulder then, too warm to be Nat's, and you immediately felt the comfort she radiated.

Carol wasn't the most sentimental person, she wouldn't tell you that everything would be fine, she wouldn't offer comforting words, but she'd be there, a warm unwavering presence amidst the chaos (even if you rarely saw each other in person). She was the one good thing that the Blip brought you.

"Don't think too much about it," the blonde said, already knowing what was on your mind. "Keep your head in the game, I don't want you getting hurt out there, ok?"

You nodded while managing to keep to yourself the strong urge to hug her, to seek comfort in that friendly and familiar warmth of hers.

She nodded back, turned and boarded the jet, having already reviewed with Natasha her role in the mission.

You looked at your fianceé only to find her eyes already on you. You didn't think too much into it, though, she was probably just reviewing in her head the role you'd have for this mission.

Once again you found yourself wanting to go to her, but the fear of rejection loomed over you, a haunting presence that whispered of the potential pain that awaited if you ventured too close.

You turned away and stepped in the jet.

You stumbled into the Avengers' compound, a dull ache radiating from your wounded shoulder, the bloodstained clothes doing nothing to give you comfort.

The mission had taken an unexpected turn, and both you and Steve got shot. Multiple times.

As soon as you stepped through the quinjet's door Natasha was there, the worry in her eyes making you question if you were hallucinating. She walked to you, her eyes never leaving yours, it was almost as if you could feel her again, the old Natasha, your Natasha.

"What the fuck happened? You weren't supposed to get hurt!" she exclaimed in a mix of anger, desperation and concern. She ran her hands through her unkempt hair. It was an uncommon sight, indeed, to see her so disheveled.

You knew she had been worried, the moment Steve reported back you could hear her pacing back and forth through the comms, you just didn't know it would affect her this much. You didn't think she cared anymore.

Almost as if sensing your thoughts, Natasha took a hesitant step closer and reached for your hands. "You got me really worried." She said, her eyes looking deep into yours, her hands soothingly cold to the touch.

You could see she wanted to say something else, but almost as if she was waging a silent war against herself, she shook her head, released your hands and sighed. "Go to the med bay. I'll meet you there."

You nodded weakly, too tired from blood loss to argue. Too tired in general.

As you made your way to the medical facilities, the pain in your shoulder intensifying with each step, you couldn't help but think of all the times Clint saved your ass from stupid bullet wounds like these, or how Wanda would literally create a shield around you whenever you faced danger.

You missed them, you missed Wanda so much, and you couldn't help but wish it was you and not her. And Clint, god, you hated what he became, you hated the Ronin, you hated that he wasn't there to heal by your side, to heal with Natasha, but you still missed him so much.

As you entered the med bay, you were greeted by a warmth that made you question how she could have gotten there first.

"Bold move, jumping in front of a sea of bullets like that" Carol said, there was no warmth in her voice though. You closed your eyes.

"I couldn't let them shoot that child," you said, sitting on a cot and looking apologetically at her.

Carol gritted her teeth, her eyes scanning your wounded shoulder, the part of you that got the most hits, with a mix of worry and anger written across her face.

"So you just deemed your life less valuable than hers and decided to throw it away?" She clenched her fists.

"That's not it and you know it," you said in a small voice. It was worse, but no, she didn't know it. She didn't need to. You didn't want to burden her too.

Carol's eyes softened, she took a couple steps towards you and touched your uninjured shoulder. "I just worry about you, sweet girl." She said and sighed, "Look, I know you don't have much to live for right now, but you're one of my best friends, I wouldn't be able to deal with it if something ever happened to you. And by the looks of it neither would Natasha, despite all the shit she's been pulling."

It was amazing how Carol, just like Wanda before her, was able to fill you with lightness. With them, as well as with Clint, you felt cherished, cared for. You could never be more thankful for the blonde in front of you. Without Clint and Wanda here to support your near Natasha-less life, Carol was the one thing keeping you sane.

You just wished being sane was enough.

You managed a weak smile, though, and even if felt forced, it still seemed to have convinced Carol that you were ok. "I'll be fine, Carebear. Just a flesh wound. I know I haven't been in the field for a while, but it's nothing I can't handle."

Carol fought off a smirk. "Promise me you won't pull shit like that again, at least".

You saluted her, a mocking smile on your face, despite the ache you felt inside. "Aye, aye, Captain!"

She chuckled and shook her head, "You're the worst".

"But you love it!" Your answering smile was more genuine this time.

Her smile grew bigger, and you wished you could see it in person more often.

"I actually do." She said, shaking her head once more and turning away to leave the med bay.

It didn't take long for a nurse to come to tend to you. There were many bullet wounds around your body, although most were superficial. The worst was indeed your shoulder, having been hit four times.

You bitterly wondered how you could still be alive with all of these bullet holes around your body.

The minutes passed by, and yet there was no sign of Natasha, so after all your wounds have been treated and dressed you decided to go look for the redhead.

It was a bad idea. As you located her, your heart sank. There she was, tending to Steve's wounds, her focus solely on him. Even though there was nothing romantic about the situation, the sight of them together stirred a mix of emotions within you. Jealousy, longing, confusion. Betrayal. You wondered if there was something more between Natasha and Steve, a connection that surpassed friendship. You wondered why she would deem him deserving of having his wounds treated personally by her while you were sent to a nameless nurse.

Your mind raced, struggling with the whirlwind of emotions that engulfed you. Doubts crept in, and you questioned the very nature of your relationship with Natasha. Did she even love you still? Has she ever? Where was that woman who threw blankets over your barbed wire, leaving you just soft enough for all your other friends to approach? Why has she left you behind in her pursuit to build this new world instead of taking you along with her? The uncertainty gnawed at you, intensifying the ache in your shoulder. You made her your temple, your mural, your sky, but now you were left begging for footnotes in the story of her life.

As you stood there, watching her tend to his injuries, a deep sense of loneliness washed over you. The weight of the lack of acknowledgment you've been getting from her grew heavier, casting a shadow over the bond you once shared. The pain in your shoulder felt insignificant compared to the ache in your soul.

At that moment, you realized you couldn't take it anymore. You loved Natasha, you would probably love her till the end of your days, but you knew your love should be celebrated, and yet all she did was tolerate it.

You never thought about what she would do if you broke free, leaving the two of you in ruins. But that's what you did, you took the chains that bound you to Natasha and broke them.

You still longed for her, though, the neverending love you held for the woman felt like a dagger piercing your heart, a constant reminder of what you craved for, of what you once had. You wanted to remove it, to see it clatter to the ground as you bled out.

It was weird to gain the weight of her then lose it, but you needed to do it, you had to.

You were doing it for her as much as for yourself. Natasha had lost so, so much, but there was one person who could still come back, so you went to look for him, more in hopes of helping her than fulfilling your own desire of seeing him again.

Even if she didn't love you (which was the impression you got when you told her you'd be gone, looking for Clint, only to get a blank stare in response), you still loved her, you still wanted her to be as happy as she could, and you knew Clint was the person to make that happen, he was her best friend as much as he was yours.

You needed to help her heal somehow.

"She's been a mess since you left," Carol had said once during a video call, the vast expansion of the universe now looming right behind her, "don't ever tell her I said that, though." The grimace on her face told you she wasn't kidding.

"Steve's been trying to help more, even I am; I've been to earth since you left more times than I've been throughout my whole life. I'm afraid that if I stay gone too long, she won't be there when I come back… Since you left she barely takes care of herself. The place's a mess, she hasn't been eating much, and, again, don't ever tell her I said this, but I thought I'd never see her cry, and yet…"

You wondered if it had been all in your head, the way she seemed to avoid you, the way she seemed to take you for granted, the way she seemed to merely tolerate you.

In the midst of a turbulent storm of emotions, a newfound sense of urgency propelled your every step. You needed to find Clint, you needed to find him so you could go back to her, to see if she was really deteriorating that much, to ask her if it was all in your head, if you got it wrong somehow, if she actually loved you.

Time seemed to both crawl and fly, leaving you with moments of self-reflection in the solitude of your journey. Doubts and insecurities waged war within you, tearing at the fabric of your clarity. What if you discovered that Natasha's love had been genuine, but she had struggled to express it? What if she was simply too freshly traumatized to express it, and you had abandoned her at her worst moment?

You needed to go back to her, even if it was just to figure it out. But you wouldn't go back without Clint, you couldn't.

So you searched, and searched, and searched. And as you finally stood before Clint, his weathered face bearing the marks of his own battles, you found yourself engulfed in a deep ache. Two of the people you loved the most were immersed in pain, and you could do nothing to help.

"I can't believe you traveled so far, came all the way here for this," Clint spat, his voice filled with anger, his eyes filled with tears. "To ask me to come back so I can help her. Do you even worry about me? Did you ever stop to think that I lost my family? My wife's gone, Y/N! I lost my kids! Do you really think that I'm not dealing with my own shit right now?"

You shook your head, tears welled up in your eyes too, matching the anguish in your voice. "Fuck you, Clint! I'm not here just for her and you know that! You're my best friend, goddamnit, and you've been gone for years! I know you're hurting, but you gotta know that what you're doing is wrong, and it's not gonna bring Laura and the kids back." You shook your head, remembering the way the kids would all call you auntie Y/N/N. You sighed and shook your head in disappointment. "They would actually be ashamed of what you became."

You knew it was a low blow, but it was the truth, and he needed to hear it

The moment he seemed to register those words, Clint's eyes became full of this sort of anger that you've never seen your friend display. But again, this wasn't Hawkeye, this was Ronin.

Clint advanced upon you with rage in his eyes, his hand went to your throat, a dagger suddenly pressing against your ribs.

"Take that back." He said through gritted teeth, and you felt your eyes filling with tears once again.

Of course he wasn't above hurting you like this. He, too, didn't care about your own pain.

You were tired, you were so fucking tired.

"Do it." You said, your voice devoid of emotions, the hollowness you now felt was all it conveyed. "It's not gonna make any difference if I'm gone, anyway."

You'd be just another death on his account, just a wisp of a memory in Natasha's mind.

Clint's brows furrowed, but his grip was unrelenting. You took your hands to his, the one holding the dagger, and pulled it up, so it wasn't resting above your ribs anymore, but right at your heart.

"Please," you said with a wavering voice, looking him deep in the eyes, trying to appeal no more to your friend, but to Ronin, "do it. Please."

The dagger clattered to the ground, Clint took a step away, looking at his hand as if it had personally offended him. He then looked at you, but you didn't meet his eyes, you were too absorbed looking at the dagger on the ground, feeling the brisk sense of freedom evading you as it finally stopped moving.

You then felt his arms around you, your head suddenly tucked into his neck.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice sounding desperate "I'm so sorry, Y/N, I'm so sorry," he kept repeating, and repeating, and repeating.

You shook your head, your own desperation making you cling to him "Why didn't you do it? Why couldn't you just kill me?!"

His arms tightened around you as you both fell to your knees.

"I'm sorry," he just repeated, "I'm sorry I took this path, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I wasn't a good friend."

You wished that he being sorry was enough.

When you came back, there was a talk about fucking time travel. The Ant-guy was back, and so was Tony, Thor, and even Bruce. Everything seemed to be falling into place, so why did you still feel so…. broken?

But, somehow, as you and Clint stepped foot inside the Avengers compound, the familiar surroundings embraced you like a long-lost home. The tension that has seemed to permeate your very bones during the journey began to ease, replaced by a cautious hope for what awaited you.

You knew things wouldn’t instantly fix themselves up; Natasha wouldn’t just come to you and apologize for all she’s done (no, that wasn’t like her at all); your heart wouldn’t suddenly be mended, even if she did; your mind wouldn't let you forget the pain, the deep ache the past five years inflicted upon you.

And yet, there was hope.

There was the possibility of bringing Wanda back, of having Carol around more often, of doing something good for humanity. Of making Natasha happy again.

The moment the doors opened you saw her. She was talking to the Ant-guy and to Bruce, her brows furrowed as she nodded along.

And then she turned her head and caught sight of you, and of who was by your side. Her eyes widened in disbelief when she saw Clint standing there, and a glimmer of something flickered within them, something akin to hope, but also akin to sorrow. Without a second thought, she started walking in your direction, coming faster and faster until she was running.

When Natasha reached Clint, she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a long-awaited embrace. Tears pooled in her eyes, slowly streaming down her cheeks as she closed them.

There was a little lightness in your heart as you saw them hug, some sort of knowing that she'd be ok even if you weren't around anymore. She wouldn't starve herself, she wouldn't push everyone away, she wouldn't shut down. She'd survive, and then she'd move on.

In that moment, as Natasha clung to Clint, her teary eyes slowly opened. There, through the blur of her emotions, she looked right at you. And the gratitude that radiated from her gaze was palpable, as if a thousand unspoken words were contained within that single look.

Her hold on Clint loosened slightly as her eyes locked onto yours, lingering for a brief, intense moment. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time as the weight of her gaze met yours. It felt as if the universe held its very breath, waiting for the next chapter to unfold.

You wished you could say you could feel her love through that gaze, but you didn't know if you could use that word to describe what Natasha felt for you. Maybe she regretted what she did; maybe you became her anchor, even if unbeknownst to you, and she felt like she needed you to function; maybe she felt like she owed you something for bringing Clint back. You didn't know what it was, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the word love would be the wrong one to describe her feelings for you. Gratitude, thankfulness, maybe, but not love.

You smiled a sad smile, and nodded your head in acknowledgment to the gratitude in her eyes.

Natasha furrowed her brows and pulled away from Clint as she saw you walking away from her, but before she could come after you, Clint caught her hand and walked towards the opposite direction. He wanted a conversation in private.

You just knew he was going to tear her a new one for what she did to you. During your journey back he had apologized more times than you could count, his words still engraved in your mind.

"I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust," he had vowed, his voice filled with determination. "I'll prove to you day after day that I care, that I value our friendship above all else. What happened the other day… it'll never happen again, I promise you that. I was too absorbed in my own pain, so much so that I hurt you, but I would never do that intentionally, Y/N. You're like a sister to me, I'd never willingly hurt you. I love you too much for that."

Maybe his love was real, but you didn't have it in yourself to just forgive and forget.

Maybe one day the gods would deem you worthy of love. True love, not the kind that hurts you.

"A soul for a soul" the Redskull said, turning the vast expense of cosmic beauty before you into something bleak, final. "You must sacrifice that which you love."

Your eyes wandered, drinking in the breathtaking scenery, the towering cliffs and cascading waterfalls; it seemed like a paradise carved from dreams.

But the words hanging in the air casted a somber shadow over the planet's beauty, and as you stood near its vibrant precipice, the weight of what had to be done pressed upon the three of you.

Destiny had brought you here, demanding a sacrifice.

It was a curse and a blessing all at once.

"If we don't get that stone, billions of people stay dead," Natasha stated, her voice tinged with determination, almost as if she was trying to keep herself strong.

Of course she'd want to be sacrificed, the selfless fool that she was.

Clint's gaze met hers, his eyes filled with a mixture of conflict and resignation. "Then I guess we both know who it's got to be," he replied, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. They didn't spare a single glance your way, it was almost as if they had mutually decided that you were to live.

A subtle sadness washed over Natasha's features as she nodded in agreement. "I guess we do."

You closed your eyes. You had been wanting this for so long, you had craved the peace I'd bring, you had fantasized about it, about closing your eyes and never opening them again.

And yet… you found yourself wanting to cling to life with an unwavering grip.

As Clint and Natasha looked at each other, you found yourself wanting to greet Laura, Lila, Coop and Nate when they came back, you found yourself wanting to have a nice day out with Yelena. You found yourself wanting to embrace Wanda and never let her go.

It hurt to know you wouldn't be able to do any of that.

"I'm starting to think we mean different people here, Natasha." Clint said then, his voice wavering slightly.

For a moment, Natasha's gaze lingered on Clint, her eyes reflecting the depth of her conviction. "For the last five years, I've been trying to do one thing: get to right here," she confessed. "That's all it's been about. Bringing everybody back."

She looked at you then, her eyes brimming with tears "I was so focused on it that I drove away the one person I had promised myself never to hurt.",

You couldn't look her in the eye, you couldn't let her see your decision through your gaze.

Clint's shoulders seemed to sag, you could see the self-blame he felt right through his eyes, even if they were focused on Nat. "And that's why it gotta be me. You spent all this time trying to help what was left of the world. Me… you know what I've done. You know what I've become." He shook his head, his eyes turning to you as well "If you haven't gotten to me, I'd still be killing an untold number of people without a care for who it'd hurt."

"Well," you said, shrugging, trying to lighten the mood a little "I don't judge people on their worst mistakes." There was no point in holding grudges anymore.

"Neither do I." Natasha said, looking at him. Her eyes turned to you then, full of sadness, longing , and regret. "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

You walked towards her and pulled her in by the hand, your forehead resting against hers.

"I love you, Nat. You've been forgiven since day one." You said.

Natasha's tears streamed down her cheeks as she buried her face in the crook of your neck.

You saw from the corner of your eye Clint taking a step back, as if to go to the cliff. You extended your hand to him as well. He stopped in his tracks and took a couple steps in your direction, taking your hand in his.

He smiled a sad smile, his eyes red. "Tell my family I love them" he said, and tried to pull his hand away, but you gripped it with all the strength you had.

"Tell them yourself," Natasha said, pulling away from you as well.

You sighed, your eyes burning with unshed tears. You didn't want to die anymore. You wanted to live.

But you couldn't let them sacrifice themselves.

You ripped the bracelet Tony made from your wrist. It clattered on the ground. Natasha and Clint's eyes widened, almost as if they hadn't even thought of the possibility of you being the one to jump.

You felt an unbearable heat rising up from inside out, your lungs burned, your chest, your torso, your whole body.

"Y/N what the hell are you doing?!?" Natasha yelled out, trying to get to the bracelet on the floor, but the burning winds that seemed to suddenly emanate from you wouldn't let her get closer.

"Take care of each other. And of Wanda and Carol. That 's all I ask." You said, your voice no longer solely yours.

You saw a rising shadow on the ground, signaling the presence of wings on your back. Blood red wings engulfed in flames. The Phoenix's wings.

Clint was rooted to the ground, your power vicious enough to paralyze those of weaker minds.

Natasha, though? She was fighting to get to you, the winds clearly burning her skin, yet she didn't give up. You turned away from her, not wanting to see her struggle.

It was a short walk to the edge of the cliff, you didn't want to look back. If you said goodbye it'd make it feel more real. So you just jumped.

And then you felt her hand on your wrist, the searing heat making her skin burn, and yet, she didn't let go.

"No, please. Not you." She cried, and even with tear stained cheeks she was the most beautiful woman you've ever seen "I can't lose you like this. The world can't lose you. You're the only one of us that really deserves to live life to its full potential."

And then, as if her touch made your power purr in her presence, Clint broke free, running to where you were dangling and taking your other wrist in his hands.

This was hurting them, both physically and mentally, you saw the skin on their hands blistering, you saw the redness in their arms, the tears in their eyes not just from the pain.

"Let me go," you said with a sad smile. They had their families, they had their jobs, their missions; their homes.

You had nothing, all you did was take up too much space or time. They deserved to live, even if you left them in ruins.

"It's not gonna work!" Natasha shouted in desperation, her expression one of pure anguish "I don't love you! It's not gonna work!"

You smiled sadly at her. She really didn't love you, did she? She just tolerated you.

"It 's ok, Natty. It'll work. You may not love me, but Clint does " you said, smiling at her through your own tears.

"Y/N, please, don't do this," Clint begged too, sobbing as he held onto you with all his strength.

"It's ok," you repeated, and if it was to calm them or yourself , you didn't know, "it's gonna be ok".

You used whatever little control you had over your powers to push them away. As your body tumbled to the ground the last thing you remembered was the way Natasha used to laugh at your jokes, enjoy your food, take you out on dates. The last thing you remembered was how she used to love your presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

When Natasha and Clint woke up not much later in a galaxy colored lake, she clutched the stone that had appeared in her hands, wishing with all her might that it turned out different, that the last words she said to you weren't "I don't love you."

She loved you. Always did. Always would.

Wanda sat in front of your gravestone, her hair disheveled, her eyes red shot, her cheeks tear stained. She hugged her knees as she sobbed, longing for the presence of who could no longer be by her side. She had lost her parents, then Pietro, Vision, and now you.

She sobbed more and more, the pitiful sound getting louder.

She felt a hand on her shoulder then, and she looked up to see red shot brown eyes.

Carol sat beside her, taking her hand and squeezing it a little.

She understood what Wanda was going through, she was grieving you as well, and even though Wanda and Vision were planning on starting a life together, the witch suspected the Captain wouldn't have said no if you'd asked the same thing from her. So she, too, lost her love, even if she never got the courage to confess it.

It was a hot day, the sunlight shone perpendicular through the clearing where your grave has been put, creating a magical scenery all around the place.

And yes, the day was hot, but was it supposed to be this hot?

Wanda shook her head, her brows starting to sweat.

And then the sunlight vanished, as if something gigantic was blocking its path. She and Carol looked up, but all they could see were the trees blocking the sky from view.

The animalistic cry they heard didn't come from the trees, though.

Neither did the blood red feather falling through the leaves, its tip engulfed in fire.

Wanda and Carol looked at each other, and for the first time in weeks, they smiled.

Natasha Romanoff Taglist: @strangegardentaco, @madamevirgo, @Lovelyy-moonlight, @agent99galanzo, @red1culous