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It was complete utter silence that filled the air. The sorrow clear on everyone’s faces and their pain radiating. No one wants to speak, in fear of saying the wrong thing. But one thing they all silently thought of, was how there seemed to be a hole in the atmosphere, like something was missing. It didn’t hurt less knowing what it is.
“Do we know if she had family?” Tony never heard a peep of her family, whether if it was from the dumped SHIELD files or Natasha herself. Even after all the years he’d known her. But he can’t imagine Natasha’s sacrifice being cast aside just because no one was close to her.
“Yeah. Us.” Tony pauses, not expecting that answer. But he knows he should’ve. Because that’s what they are, right? Even with all the disagreements, with all the fights and squabbles, it seems like all six of them always found a way back to each other. Either that, or fate liked fucking with them.
Steve doesn’t look at anyone of them, his eyes seeming to be in a daze. His chest feels hollow, has been since he saw Clint coming back from Vormir alone, a horrified look plastered on his face.
If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life. Now be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?
I would now.
Steve bows his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. Something in his chest twists, his fist clenching until his knuckles turn white.
It isn’t like he saw this rag-tag group of people with guilt complexes as anything less than a team, but it makes sense for Natasha to see them as a family. They all tolerate each other, have fights and disagreements but when it comes down to it—when everything else was falling apart around them—they all had each others’ back no matter what. Especially how Natasha had kept things together for the past five years. They aren’t perfect, but they are a family.
“What?” Thor stares at them, brows raised as if they were ludicrous.
“Huh?” Tony snaps out of his thoughts, his mouth in a firm line as Thor moves up to him.
“What are you doing, what are you doing,” Thor mumbles, his hands in fists.
“I’m just asking a question.” Tony speaks with a tone of nonchalance, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he truly allows the grief to settle over him. Tony understands what Thor feels, but he doesn’t want to start up a fight over something that’s too late to fix.
“Yeah you’re acting like she’s dead, why are we acting like she’s dead?” Bruce closes his eyes. He wants to believe this isn’t real. That they can save her. He wants to, so badly.
“We have the stones, right? As long as we have the stones, Cap, we can bring her back, isn’t that right, to stop this shit. We’re the Avengers, get it together,” Thor spits, his voice raising. Thor just doesn’t want to hear anything more. He’s done with losing people around him. It’s hard enough to lose his entire family, but to lose another sister in arms? It’s… too much.
“We can’t bring her back.” Clint can’t even see the people around him; the image of Natasha splayed across the stone ground—blood pooling around her head—replaying before his eyes. His voice is tired, and scratchy with pain. He loses Natasha just so she can make sure he sees his family again. It’s like losing Laura, Lila, Cooper and Nathaniel all over again.
Tell my family I love them.
You tell them yourself.
“Wh-What.”
“It can’t be undone. It can’t,” he repeats. This time, his voice is raspy, as if saying it outright pained him. And it did, more than he ever expected it to.
Let me go. He remembers how soft her voice was. So gentle, because she knew how hard it would be for him, but that hadn’t stopped her from sacrificing herself.
No. Please, no.
It’s okay.
Thor starts laughing, void of any emotion.
“Look, I’m sorry, no offence but you’re a very earthly being. We’re talking about space magic. ‘Can’t’ seem to be a little definitive, don’t you think.” Thor knows he’s being a little delusional at this point, knows that there’s no way to bring her back. But even then, the small part of him doesn’t want to accept this. He doesn’t want to lose another person in his family.
“Okay, look, I know I’m way outside my pay grade here but she still isn’t here, is she?” Clint can feel the frustration underneath his skin. Like fire that wants to ooze out of his pores. His chest hurts. His jaw ticks.
“No, that’s my point.”
“It can’t be undone. Or that’s at least what the red floating guy had to say. Maybe you wanna go talk to him, okay. Go grab your hammer, and you go fly and talk to him!” Clint snaps, eyes wide with raw emotion. Something inside of him breaks, and his eyes sting with tears.
“It’s supposed to be me.” Of course it was supposed to be him, Tony muses. It’s always anybody else, never the person who actually died. Tony knows none of them are mentally sound at this point, everyone of them having some sort of guilt complex or the other. He knows that if anyone from the team had taken Clint’s place, they would say the same thing; that it should’ve been them. He knows they would, because he wouldn’t hesitate to say the same thing.
If this was your last… birthday party, how would you celebrate it?
I’d do whatever I’d wanna do. With whoever I’d wanna do it with.
Tony thinks that’s the only moment she’s ever been real with him, ever bared the slightest show of her soul. They never had the best bond, but Tony knows Natasha would lay her life down for him, down for anyone in the team.
Boy, must be hard to shake off the double-agent thing, huh? Sticks in the DNA.
Are you incapable of letting go of your ego for one goddamn second?
Tony closes his eyes, trying to push aside the memories of Natasha in his head. His left hand shakes, the chronic pain coming back in full force.
My left arm is numb, is that normal?
… You alright?
Always.
“She sacrificed her life for that goddamn stone, she bet her life on it.” Tony grimaces, taking off his glasses when his eyes start to hurt. He can’t tell if it’s a headache or the physical pain that comes with grief. He doesn’t really want to find out.
Bruce grabs the bench and throws it across the lake in a fit of rage. He can feel the Hulk inside his head teetering over the edge, wanting to control a little more than half of his body. That hasn’t happened in a long time, but he gets it. He knows Hulk had a bond with Natasha. So he understands that Hulk is grieving as well, even as much as Bruce is.
Hey Big Guy, sun’s getting real low.
“She’s not coming back. We have to make it worth it. We have to.” Bruce’s voice is grim but filled to the brim with conviction. They can’t let their teammate’s sacrifice mean nothing. To have someone they know—someone they’ve been working with, been friends with for over a decade—lose their life so the rest of the team can live theirs is a jarring concept. There’s always loss in a war, but it doesn’t hurt less when it does happen.
I used to have nothing. Then I got this… this job, this family… I was better because of it.
Steve feels like a huge amount of weight is put on his shoulders, weighing down on him like a crushing force. She brought them all here, kept the team together when the world was falling apart for the last five years. Always making sure Earth was still being looked after. He can’t let this go to waste. He owes it to Natasha. They all do.
“We will.”
Because that’s what Nat would do.