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"Morning," Natasha says as she stifles a yawn. "Good morning," the Avengers who are in the kitchen say it in unison, and the former Russian spy smiles lightly at that. Clint catches her wrist and pressed a mug with tea in her hand. "Did you sleep well?" He asks, his eyes worried. She tilts her head. "A bit," she answers, and then she moves to sit next to Steve, who's reading the newspaper.
"So," Tony says, planting his hands on the kitchen counter. He smirks, and Natasha gets the feeling he has not forgotten their conversation last night.
"I'm still trying to figure out what happened in Budapest." Natasha looks at her mug.
"You need to go, Nat. You need to go. Now!"
"That's top secret, you know," Clint says, wiggling his eyebrows as he sits down next to Natasha, and lets his hand rest on top of hers - just a bit of comfort, she knows.
"Does Fury know about it?" Sam questions. Natasha represses the urge to flee, and sips her tea. "Of course he does," Clint makes a disgruntled noise, "Phil and Maria do too. Apart from them, nobody does."
"But why can't you tell us? It can't be that bad, can it?"
Clint frowns at Wanda's words, and he quickly glances at Natasha. "It's still something we'd like to keep quiet," he then says, "come on Nat, I want to train with you."
They spar. Or at least, they try to. Natasha is void of any concentration. Her head is spinning by the time Clint has pinned her to the ground, and instead of pride, he looks worried and helps her up. "Nat," he says, "don't be like this again." She only shakes her head. "Please Nat," he pleads, and takes her hands in his. "I know it's hard, I know it pains you to hear and think about it. And I know right now it's even harder - on her anniversary-" Clint stops talking when his best friend just leans against him and pushes her head in the base of his neck, closing her eyes. She doesn't want to talk about it. He understands.
He strokes her back.
"It's okay," he tells her as a sob wrecks through her body, "it's okay Tasha. It's okay."
Neither of them are aware of their friends standing on the gallery above them.
Steve frowns. He's never seen Natasha display such emotions before. No less in a public place like this, where anyone could walk in.
"I'm still thinking about it," Tony admits when the team sits down that afternoon. Clint and Natasha aren't there, out on a debriefing with SHIELD or something. "You should probably stop asking them questions about it, though," Wanda says, "because as much as they joke about it, I feel like there are unknown emotions lurking underneath." Steve hums in agreement. Tony just shakes his head. "No, no, that's not what I mean. I'm worried about her, you know? It's like this every twelfth of October. She becomes silent, shows more emotion, and sometimes she just stays in her room. It's been like that for a few years now, and I'm worried. I want to help her," he says, looking up, "and anyways, if she becomes so distracted on a mission, we're in for a real surprise." No one can argue with that.
"Fri," he says, "pull up any SHIELD files on Budapest."
"On it, Sir," the AI curtly responds.
The Avengers watch in silence as the AI pulls up a blue screen on the wall, and Tony scrolls through the files. Steve can't help but feel slightly disturber at the ease of his friend. How can Tony have access to such classified files?
"Oh," the billionaire then says, softly. "Fri, read it out loud, please."
"Mission debrief: Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton and deceased Y/N Alfonsi. Budapest, Hungary," the AI reads, and Tony puts up his hand to stop her. "We have a file of Alfonsi here," he says, tapping the screen thrice. A file appears. FRIDAY reads it out loud.
"Y/N Alfonsi. Italian sniper. Three hundred and fifty confirmed kills, seventy unconfirmed. Hired by SHIELD as an operative in the field, to be paired together with Barton. She lost her life in a top secret mission in Budapest."
It stays silent for a while as the Avengers look at the screen with wide eyes.
"My god," Sam lets out. He shakes his head. "I don't want to hear anything else about it. This is none of our damn business." Tony nods, and the screen disappears.
"Sir, may I inform you that Romanoff and Barton are coming up right now?"
Tony just waved his hand to the ceiling. "Yeah, sure. I'll be in the lab if you need me, guys," he says, and looks at Bruce. The scientist nods, and the two leave the room. "I'm going to take a fly," Sam mumbles, and he jumps up. Vision and Wanda follow him. That leaves Steve, Bucky, Scott and Pietro in the living room.
"Do you think we should tell the others?" Steve asks. Bucky shrugs. It could be something important the rest of the team needed to know, but who are they to say it? It was supposed to stay a secret. Thor isn't that good at keeping secrets, even though Loki is, and Rhodey, Carol and Stephen will be able to control themselves around Natasha. "I think we should wait," Scott says, getting off the couch. "I'm going home guys," he smiles, and then he's gone too. Pietro grunts, getting up. "I'm going for a run." He speeds up and in a flash, he's gone. Steve leans against Bucky, sighing. "I can't believe they went through something like this. I understand how hard it is to lose a friend in such a way."
When Natasha walks into her room, the entire Tower is silent. Most of the Avengers are out and about, and Steve and Bucky are asleep on the couch. Clint is already in bed, tired as he is, after she cleaned his wounds. Now it's time for her to do the same.
She steps into her hot bath, and watches the water slowly turn red. It brings her to distant memories that she doesn't want to remember.
She does remember you, however. She remembers the smile on your face, the crinkles by your eyes every time you laughed, and the way it felt to be the person who made you laugh. She remembers her name on your tongue, softly rolling of it, and she remembers your soft hands on her body, and she remembers your lips, and the sheer happiness she felt whenever she was with you.
But she also remembers that warm summer night in Budapest, when their mission had gone wrong. The men were shooting at them, screaming that they would never get away. Natasha was hurt. Badly. She pleaded for you to leave her behind, to get yourself to safety, but you refused.
"I am not going to give up on you now, Natasha," you had snapped, covering the wound in her side. "You're going to stay with me, and-"
And then you'd fallen. Just as quick, you got up, but the men were too close now, and so you shielded Natasha's body with your own. "I love you," you had whispered, "I love you so much."
Then there a soft gurgle, and Natasha felt something warm sliding down her leg, and she looked up in horror. You were staring at her, wide-eyed, face full of fear, and then your arms gave out and you fell right on top of her. She cried out your name, and kicked against the hands that pulled her up. "Calm down!" Clint had called. "Breathe, Natasha," he had said, pulling her behind a broken wall. The men had still been shooting and screaming, and Natasha had choked back a sob.
They had killed you. So Natasha had done the only thing that felt right at the time. She blew up the entire building. The only regret she had was that your body was still in there as well.
Natasha swallows, letting her head lull to the side and against the cold wall. Her hands are trembling now.
"I love you, Natasha," she remembers you whispering the night before, in bed.
"I love you too, Y/N," she now whispers back into the empty bathroom. But you can't hear her. And you never will.