Chapter Text
Natasha hummed as the familiar warmth registered of Maria’s arms snaking around her midsection, her front pressing against Natasha’s back as she washed the dishes in the sink. She could forever bask in the warmth of her wife. The feeling of the woman’s sharp jaw resting on the exposed skin between her neck and shoulder and the feeling of her fingers tracing smooth and soft patterns against the skin of her hips, all of it causing Natasha to lean further back against her. Soaking in the nice feeling Maria brought to her.
The small and little moments like this were what made Natasha feel happy. These little moments were huge for her, finally having something, something she had stripped away from her when she was a child. It didn’t take long for Maria Hill to show her just how much she had missed. Made her crave it.
She rinsed off the last plate and set it off to the side to dry, finally free of the task at hand and able to turn into Maria’s arms to face her. Natasha couldn’t help but smile at the relaxed yet playfulness evident in the depths of icey blue eyes.
“How can I help you, handsome?” Natasha asked playfully, draping her arms over Maria’s shoulders. The question earned her a chuckle from the blue eyed woman, the corner of her eyes crinkling slightly.
Maria raised one of her eyebrows, a playful smirk spreading over her lips. “Handsome?” she questioned. Natasha could only laugh, letting her head fall to rest on Maria’s chest. The gentle swell of the blue eyed woman inhaling put Natasha into a further state of relaxation. She could stay like this all day and night, preferably for the rest of her life.
“Very handsome,” Natasha husked, tilting her head up toward Maria’s chin and letting her eyes flicker open to meet Maria’s. “In fact, the most handsome woman I will ever lay eyes on.”
The response caused the brunette to laugh, her chest shaking and shoulders rising and falling with laughter. It was the most pure and beautiful laugh, natural and unforced; music to Natasha’s ears. She could only breathe in the moment as Maria’s grip tightened on her waist, pulling her closer as she began to gently sway back and forth.
Natasha finally pulled her head back to stare into the gentleness of Maria’s eyes. “What are we doing? Slow dancing?” she asked, her smile growing with each word she said.
Maria hummed, leaning forward to rest her forehead gently against Natasha’s. “Turn every light off and open the refrigerator door,” Maria whispered as she closed her eyes.
Natasha snorted, “I may be a fan of Taylor Swift, but I know how that song ends. So, no. Not doing the slow dancing in the refrigerator’s light.” Maria laughed lightly and shook her head at her, but she continued to sway and gaze lovingly down into Natasha’s eyes. The woman was capable of communicating all of her love for Natasha just through her eyes.
“Oh come on, you know you want to,” Maria countered.
Natasha only shook her head, her smile widening as Maria pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Nope, because you’re not leaving with my scarf. I would like to stay slow dancing in the kitchen under the kitchen lights. Our own version, not Taylor’s tragic heartbreak.”
She leaned into the comfort of Maria, breathing in everything that was her. She couldn’t imagine doing anything else with her time. They would stay there, swaying back and forth, embraced together in the middle of the kitchen for the majority of that night. The only music playing was the chatter of the tv show Maria had put on the living room tv prior. But both of them knew they could do this in practical silence. The only music necessary would be the other’s heartbeat and breathing.
Natasha was content with the life she was now blessed with. Maria was that life. Her heart belonged with her. No one else would ever catch a glimpse of that heart, as it was now in possession of one Maria Hill.
---
In the darkness of their bedroom, Maria had her arms wrapped around Natasha from behind. She nuzzled her nose into the side of her wife’s neck, the soft skin aiding her sleep. It wasn’t uncommon for them to sleep like this, both of them finding themselves nightmare-less within the company of the other. But it also provided comfort for if one were to wake up from a nightmare, to have the other right there.
They had gone to bed rather late for them, tired eyes and restless smiles covering their faces. But they were both equally satisfied and happy, only needing their space to be occupied by the other to ease them into a comfortable sleep. They were each other’s sleeping medication.
Natasha took in a deep breath, her body and mind deep in sleep. Maria was in the same state, her grip relaxed and soft, but strong enough to hold Natasha in place.
The gentleness and peace had an abrupt disruption, Maria’s phone beeping from her bedside table. Natasha grumbled irritably, turning into Maria and burying her face into the woman’s chest. Maria only groaned, her barely conscious mind trying to convince her to ignore it.
“Please don’t go in,” Natasha begged, sleep had made her voice appear more raspier than usual. “Stay in bed with me, where it’s nice and warm.”
Maria had to pull away from Natasha to stretch her arm out and grab the annoying device. “I’m sorry, Love. As tempting as that sounds, I do have to work- ”
She was immediately interrupted by Natasha’s phone beeping. The redhead let out a loud and guttural groan as she pulled the pillow from beneath her head and smothered her face with it. Maria could only laugh and shake her head at the woman.
She finally shut her ringer off and answered the call from Fury with a calm and stiff, “Sir?”
It only took a couple of words for her to be up and on her feet, rushing around blindly for her work suit, while also preparing Natasha’s. She knew her wife would take her sweet time to get up, something about her and ‘whoever disrupts my sleep gets to wait an hour before I even contemplate responding.’ Which only caused Fury to page her earlier than when needed.
But of course, never as early as needed with agent Barton. An agent who needed a constant three hours prior to his attendance requirement. Natasha was the least of their worries.
She quickly walked over to Natasha’s side of the bed, leaning down and pulling the pillow from where it lay over her face. She smiled softly and kissed the redhead’s forehead. “I’ll see you at work, baby. I love you.”
She received a very muffled, “I love you too.” Annoyance and tiredness drenching Natasha’s tone. Maria sighed, wishing she could stay back and hold Natasha for just a bit longer. She’d have to wait until when they’d get back.
---
When she arrived at her post, she eyed everyone working around her already. She had stopped previously in Fury’s office, only to find the man gone. As expected, he stood in the middle of the chaos that consumed the workers in the control center.
She stepped down into the room and walked toward the man. “Sir,” she interrupted his monologue to one of the workers, gaining his attention as his eye swept over her appearance.
“On time as always. Am I going to expect an agent Romanoff to be in shortly as well?” He smirked at his own joke.
Maria narrowed her eyes at him. “What is the objective, sir?”
“So, I am going to have to wait a little while longer, huh?” Fury couldn’t help but chuckle at himself, earning himself a glare from Maria. “Right, anyways. We’ve found our main target. Mark Otile.” On the screen behind Fury, a picture of an older white man appeared. Maria took note of the nasty scar covering the right side of his face, from his eyebrow to his bottom lip. He was scraggly looking. Maria could only internally cringe from the sight of him. “He is located on a ship in the middle of the pacific.”
A red dot appeared on the map over on the screen next to the one displaying Mark Otile’s face. Maria blinked, “Are you hinting at an extraction, sir?”
The man signaled for the control worker to pull up a new screen, the mission plan appearing before her eyes. He turned back to her with a serious expression. “That ship is heavily guarded. I am sending my best on this mission. Get in, extract the target dead or alive, get out. The man knows far too much for his own good, and I need rid of his knowledge.”
She stiffened slightly, “So, would keeping him alive be preferable?” She picked up on the sense that Fury wasn’t telling her something. Usually targets with a lot of information were preferred alive, if they have that much information on you, surely they have others information, too. But the words, ‘dead or alive’ meant much worse for the agents forgoing the mission.
“Whatever keeps my people alive, I do not care,” Fury confirmed her beliefs, causing her to tighten her muscles.
She nodded, “Will I be overseeing this mission through?”
“You will be on ground level, Commander. I need my best down there, you are one of them,” he corrected, flipping the assigned agents’ pictures to the screen. Maria stared intently at the pictures. There was one of her, one of Natasha, then there was Bobbi Morse ‘Agent Mockingbird’, and then one of Clint Barton. A small and silent team. She could definitely work with them, as they all knew how to slip into the shadows and remain unseen. A simple stealth in-and-out with her guidance on ground level.
“When do we depart, sir?”
“0300. You have an hour to prepare. Good luck, Commander.” His tone of seriousness was enough to let her know just how difficult this mission might prove to be. She nodded when dismissed and walked back up to her quarters to read more information given on this mission.
The elevator ride up to her floor was filled in relative silence. Her mind mulled over every possibility that could occur on this mission. She established backup plans for her backup plans, just in case. She had to hide her surprise when the elevator jerked and the doors slid open to reveal the hall leading to her office. She swallowed nervously and began her walk to her office, easing the door open and letting it shut tightly behind her.
Maria slumped down into her office chair, her screen opening up to the plans and objective of the mission. She desperately wanted to go home.
It was a knock on her door that turned her attention away from her screen, looking up at who entered to meet forest green eyes.
“I heard this’ll be a tough one, huh?” The softness in Natasha’s voice brought comfort to the Commander. She was leaned up against the doorframe, adorning her Black Widow suit, her lips slightly curved to reveal a gentle smile. Just Natasha’s presence put the Commander at ease.
A small sigh escaped through her lips, her voice heavy as she spoke. “Have you read the plans?” When the redhead nodded, Maria let her eyes shut. “I get to lead it on ground level.”
A soft noise came from Natasha. “I read that. How are you feeling about that?”
“Pressure,” Maria shrugged, her lips cast into a slight frown as her eyes switched to the floor.
“Pressure?” Natasha questioned.
Maria sighed again and pushed herself up from her chair to stand. When her eyes met Natasha’s, she could only hope the redhead couldn’t read the fear in her eyes. She walked toward her, the look of pity that crossed Natasha’s face showed her feelings were quite obvious. She stopped directly in front of the redhead and let her head drop onto her shoulder, embracing the feeling of arms wrapping around her tightly. “I haven’t been on ground level in a while, haven’t been needed down there,” Maria paused, attempting to gather her thoughts into words so Natasha could understand.
“Yet, when I do, it’s always the hardest ones. The ones where it’s inevitable someone dies under my watch.” Maria shook her head against Natasha’s shoulder, causing the woman to tighten her grip on her. “I don’t want to lose anyone tonight. I can’t. There’s so much pressure.”
She felt Natasha stiffen slightly, but her grip on her never loosened. “We all know you’re the best. We are all aware that everything you do is in the best interest of us. We know you will do everything in your power to keep us alive,” Natasha brought her index finger to Maria’s chin, forcing the woman to look up and meet her eyes. “Everything will be alright. Relax, you’re a little tense.” When Maria chuckled, Natasha finally smiled again. “I love you.”
Maria returned her smile, letting herself loosen and relax as she whispered, “I love you,” back.
As departure time had crept up on them, Maria and Natasha dismissed themselves from the former’s office. They were no longer Maria and Natasha, but more so Deputy Director Hill and the Black Widow. They walked with distance between them, yet closer than usual, but not too close to raise alarms from other agents.
The Deputy Director took her first few steps onto the ramp of the quinjet before she stopped to take in a deep breath to ease herself. The Black Widow only spared her a glance as she continued her walk up into the quinjet to meet with Agent Mockingbird and Agent Barton.
She finally followed, nodding in greeting to the other agents as she went to approach the pilot. Upon confirming the coordinates given and departure time, she eased back toward her team. Her eyes fell onto Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff arguing while Agent Mockingbird watched with an evil grin.
God, did she really have pressure on her shoulders.
---
The flight was not long, leaving her to finally address her team. “Agents,” she called for their attention, earning three sets of eyes on her. “I’m going to need the best from you today. This mission might be long, painful, and excruciating. I need you entirely focused. Pay attention to the people around you, to your surroundings, and to yourself. I need all weapons checked more than twice, I’m not going to deal with any deaths based on your own errors. Please,” her voice turned to a pleading tone, “Please walk out on your own two legs. That is an order.”
Agent Mockingbird raised her hand as she stared blankly at Commander Hill, who nodded to signal to ask the question. “Um, did we read the same mission description? I don’t recall reading anything about ‘long, painful, and excruciating’ in mine.” Hill narrowed her eyes at her in a glare, the agent only smiling in response.
The Commander cleared her throat, “Any other questions?” When no one moved or said anything, she proceeded on. “Alright. Be ready to drop in five. Know where you’re dropping, comms on and stay alert. Come back alive, Agents.”
---
Hill landed onto the ship with a soft roll to deafen the blow, having cut away her parachute so it’d fall into the water instead of onto the boat. Her area was rather dark, giving her a better advantage to hide in the shadows. She knew of the guards posts all over the ship, it just left her to take them out without alerting someone to her area.
Her task was to sweep the Stern, clear the floor then get inside. She would then meet up with Agent Mockingbird and Agent Romanoff to extract the target, while Agent Barton would be stationed above to watch their backs on the way out.
Everything was eerily quiet as she stalked her way around her assigned area. She felt alone, left with nothing but her thoughts reminding her about the dangers ahead. She slowed, crouching behind a wall and listened, hoping to pick up on something that could help her out. Instead, she was met with utter silence. Nothing but her and her own anxieties.
“Status,” she requested into her ear piece, eyes surveilling her surroundings as it was too quiet. She felt she was thinking too loud.
“On target, all clear on the east side,” Agent Romanoff’s voice rang in her ear, putting Hill slightly at ease. Of course the Black Widow would be the first to clear her side.
The next voice belonged to Agent Mockingbird. “Almost cleared, working my way through the west side.”
And of course, Agent Barton filled in from his post. “On target, everything is rather peaceful up here. Just finished setting up the bird’s nest.”
“Too many words, Barton,” Agent Romanoff mumbled into the comms, “Focus.”
Hill had to bite back her laugh as her ears finally picked up movement a couple of feet away from her. She looked around her area, nothing but railings and walls around her. She needed something for distraction. With only the limited sources around her, she reached her arm out to loosen a screw holding the metal bar to the side railing next to the wall she used as coverage. Her eyes brightened as the screw came loose and fell into the palm of her hand, the railing slumping as it was only being held up on one end.
Her eyes flickered over to the side of the boat not far from her. Metal. Flicking her knife out from its holster on her thigh, she threw the screw, holding her breath as it made a clanging sound against the side.
She could hear footsteps approaching, urgency and caution in two different sets.
“Did you hear that?” Younger, probably late twenties male. His footsteps were far more cautious.
The urgent steps were heavy. “Yes, and it better just be the boat settling.” Older, more early forties, male. His voice was far deeper than the younger one’s.
Just as they stepped out right past Hill, she took into action. She swiped her leg out against the one closest to her, immediately popping up after and kicking him in the face. She then turned sharply and swung at the remaining guard. Unluckily for her, he was prepared. He caught her arm before it hit him and pulled her toward him, throwing her off balance. She had to hold back her grunts as he proceeded to try and bash her face in.
But this is what she was trained for.
She let all of her weight transfer on to him. He shifted trying to adjust, leaving her an opening as she jabbed the knife deep into his stomach. She dug both her feet into the flooring beneath her and shoved him back, causing the man to stumble until his waist met the side of the boat. She sped forward to retrieve her knife, ending it as she spun to kick him off, satisfied with the sound of his body landing in the water.
She let out a relieved sigh as she checked the guard lying on the floor. She decided then to not make any mistakes on this mission and dragged him over to the side, lifted him up, and shoved him down into the water below.
She looked down to where they had been posted. A door, lit up with two chairs stationed on the sides of it, a table in between them covered in cards. She couldn’t help but chuckle as she recognized the game of poker they had been in the middle of playing.
She leaned against the wall beside the door, speaking into the comms quietly. “On target, the south side is all clear. Head for target point.” Her order received several acknowledgments, leaving her to now have to get inside.
“Took you long enough. Thought I’d have to sit out here and continue counting the stars,” Agent Romanoff quipped.
Hill registered Agent Mockingbird’s laugh filter into the comms. “How many did you count, Romanoff?”
“I gathered that there are more than five, Mockingbird.”
She struggled with the giant metal door, clenching her jaw as she had to pry it open. The room she was met with was completely dark. She stalked forward, waiting for her eyes to adjust as she listened intently to her surroundings. She stepped into the opening only to recognize her mistake immediately.
A hand gripped her shoulder and tugged, pulling her from her original spot. Her hands immediately gripped the wrist of the perpetrator, twisting and snapping the arm. A scream of pain urged her to pin them to the floor, unholstering her gun and pressing it against their head. Once they had stopped squirming, she looked up. Two guns were trained on her already.
She liked her odds.
“Gentlemen,” she addressed, pushing herself off of the victim below her and pulling him up to stand in front of her. “I’d recommend putting those guns down.”
Two men. Both tall: one roughly six’ four and the other six’ one. The tallest one laughed, “Not going to happen, lady.”
“It’s technically three of us, against one of you. What are you going to do?” The shorter one spoke up, feeding off of the taller one's confidence.
Maria only smirked, her other hand slipping from her shield's shoulder to her knife. With quick and precise movement, she threw the knife, directly hitting the shorter one’s face and used the distraction to shoot the taller one and the man in her hold. She stepped over his body and approached the one writhing on the floor, trying to pry the knife from his eye socket. She decided to end his suffering rather quickly, pulling the knife from his eye and then slicing his throat. The sound of him choking on his own blood was practical music to her ears.
“I just heard shots,” Agent Barton spoke through the comms.
“What? I didn’t hear anything,” Agent Mockingbird responded.
Hill sighed, “Silencer. Ran into a minor problem, it’s now dealt with. Carry on.”
It was Agent Romanoff’s voice that spoke up next. “You alright, Commander?”
Hill bit her lip, moving cautiously and strategically into the hall and down the corridor. “Fine.”
“Aw, does Romanoff actually have a heart?” Agent Barton joked, his laughter filling Hill’s ears building her irritability.
“Focus, Barton,” she retaliated, eyes scanning the walls for anything and everything. She needed to find a way down into the innards of the ship.
Upon finding the stairwell, she stalked down them quietly, gun in both hands as she focused on listening. With nothing appearing, she stepped out into the corridor of the bottom floor. Her target was only within a couple feets range.
“On the move, only a few feet from target,” Hill alerted.
“Engage in two?” Agent Mockingbird asked.
Hill stopped herself in front of the steel door at the end of the corridor. “Engage in two. Romanoff, you clear?”
She awaited for the redhead's voice, her breathing heavy from the previous action. Each inhale and exhale were elongated, her mind focused on the task at hand. There was nothing but deafening silence, sweat dripping down her forehead and into her eyes. She knew her hair was drenched, she knew her nose was bleeding and that her bottom lip had been split. She knew her left eye was already swelling, but she pushed it all to the side, waiting with bated breath for the sound of Agent Romanoff’s voice.
“All clear. Engage in one.”
Hill couldn’t help but feel as if the mission had gone too easily. The guards were pretty weak on her side, only having to deal with five of them. The minute ended rather quickly, her arms rushing and pushing to open the door. She stepped in and immediately trained her gun on Mark Otile’s face. With one glance around, she found Agent Mockingbird and Agent Romanoff already within, their guns too, drawn, and aimed at his ugly scarred face.
The man could only smile, a restless and uneasy feeling causing Hill’s stomach to drop. “For trained assassins, I thought it was rule to always check your surroundings before entering a room?” Just after he said those words, the cold metal belonging to the barrel of a gun, pressed roughly against the back of her head.
She felt a warm breath on the side of her neck, “You move, if they move, I shoot you. You understand that? Now drop the gun.” She let out a shaky breath as both agents realized what was happening, her gun dropping to the floor with a thud.
Mark Otile stood from his seat. “Now, if any of you are to try and kill me or even so much as flinch at me,” he pointed his finger at her, directing her agents focus onto her, “He shoots her brains out. I’ve gathered she’s the order of this operation, sounds like she’s quite needed.”
Hill swallowed nervously, her eyes locking with Agent Romanoff’s. The fear and pain that began to swim in them made her gut twist. She felt helpless.
All she needed was a distraction, something for the man behind her to become focused on. She blinked at Agent Mockingbird, raising her eyebrows, then lowering them into a glare. The agent immediately picked up on it.
“There are three of us, highly skilled and well trained ‘assassins’, against two of you. Well, maybe one of you. I don’t even think you could hurt a fly, let alone catch one,” she retorted, trying to taunt the man.
The man chuckled. “By the look on this pretty one’s face,” he reached out and grabbed at Agent Romanoff’s chin, the redhead reclining into herself. Hill felt her stomach sink as Agent Romanoff’s eyes squeezed shut tightly, discomfort written all over her face. “I don’t think you’re willing to risk that one over there.”
Hill immediately began to seethe in anger, the thought of Natasha falling back into her memories of the Red Room made her act. She turned fast on her feet, dislodging the gun from the man’s hand as he pulled the trigger and fired a shot. Using all of her strength, she jammed the gun into his face, pulling it from his grip and shooting him twice. She jerked at the sound of another gun firing, turning around quickly to Natasha standing over Mark Otile’s body. His forehead now containing a bullet hole.
She sighed in relief, finally able to end this mission. “Mission complete, evacuation set immediately- ”
“Commander…”
Hill looked up to find both agents staring at her with horrified expressions. It took her a second to realize they weren’t looking into her eyes, but were glued to her abdomen. She slowly lowered her gaze down to her stomach, her eyes registering the dark blue material of her suit pooling darker as it began to soak with liquid. She brought her empty hand to press against the spot, wincing when the pain finally began to scorch its way through her veins.
She looked back up, her eyes locking with Natasha’s. She could see the genuine fear and horror swimming in the pretty green shades. She appeared paler.
Maria’s legs began to shake as she struggled to hold herself up, both Natasha and Agent Mockingbird rushing to her side to aid her softly to the ground. Her breathing began to pick up in a panic, her hands clutching tightly to Natasha. She could see the redhead talking urgently into the comm in her ear, but it fell onto deaf ears as Maria could only hear the sound of her own heartbeat. She couldn’t hear anything.
She felt herself being lifted from the ground, her body falling limp in their hold, but she was struggling to retain anything. Everything had begun to blur together. Her mind was panicking, her body aching, she didn’t even know where Bobbi had gone.
Before she knew it, her eyes opened to register the open sky filled with stars. Had Natasha carried her all the way out of the ship? Had that much time passed by? What time was it? They needed to evacuate.
“Hill, look at me- ” she blinked up, recognizing Bobbi talking to her. “We need you to stay awake, okay? Emergency Evac is on its way, it’ll be here in one minute. You have to hold on for sixty seconds, you think you can do that?”
That was when Maria realized she was on the floor of the ship, her wife’s hands pressed harshly against her abdomen. She groaned with the pressure applied. With sudden panic and her vision ebbing, her hands flew to her own neck, searching. When she found the chain located around her neck, beneath her suit. She yanked on it. She barely recognized the snap of the chain breaking, but knew it was a better option than using up her energy to pull it over her head. She had lost too much blood. She was losing too much blood. She never even knew she would be capable of losing this much blood.
Natasha’s hands and arms were covered, her eyes and cheeks glistening with tears. The chain now lay limply in Maria’s hand as she outstretched it toward Natasha. The redhead looked up from her hands, eyes meeting Maria’s for a brief second before letting them rest on the necklace being offered to her.
Natasha’s hand was bloody, but Maria could have sworn she felt the softness of the skin of her hand, the warmth that wasn’t from her own blood, as Natasha took the necklace from her grasp. She let her hand fall back to the floor, exhaustion taking over. She knew she wouldn’t be awake for too much longer. Bright lights blinded her, a smile gracing her lips as she recognized the quinjet approaching.
Natasha shook her head. “No, do not give these to me. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to do this to me.”
“I’m sorry. But keep those, I’m not going to need them anymore,” Maria’s voice was hoarse, blood beginning to leak from between her lips. There was blood staining the cold steel dog tags in Natasha’s bloodied hand. “Keep ‘em safe for me?”
“No, Maria, these belong to you. That’s your job, not mine. You kept them throughout your tour in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Iran. You’d only give these up if you were dying,” Natasha’s voice broke as more tears began to fall from her eyes, the loose strands of hair that had escaped her braid, whipped around as the quinjet lowered to pick them up. “Please, Masha. Just hold on a second, you’re not dying on me!”
“I love you,” Maria croaked, her features stiffening.
Natasha shook her head, the tears had become unstoppable as her body was now shaking with sobs. “I love you, too… Just- come home to me. I’ll turn off all of the lights and we can slow dance in just the lighting of the refrigerator door,” her voice shook as she begged and Maria could only chuckle as her energy began to deplete quicker. “Please.” Hands were now grabbing her and pulling her away, but she paid no attention to them. Her eyes stayed locked on Natasha’s, trying to convey her final goodbye to her wife.
The redhead stood, the bloody chain from Maria’s army dog tags dangling from her right hand, blood dripping to the floor, as her left suppressed her sobs. Bobbi was seen trying to comfort the Black Widow as Maria felt her chest rise and fall for the last time.
---
No one ever pictures these days to be sunny, more likely to be thunderstorming or pouring rain. But it was clear skies and a bright sun. It was also perceived in the movies to be cold, yet it was rather hot. Natasha had to ignore the sweat that caused her black top to cling to her back. Her hand was clutching onto cold metal, ignoring the way it began to cut into her palm. Taps was playing rather loudly, but it fell deaf onto her ears. She heard nothing. Her eyes were far more focused on the casket being lowered beneath the ground.
Clint stood behind her, she could feel his sympathetic eyes on the back of her neck. She ignored him. She also felt Fury’s hand resting on her shoulder from where he stood right beside her. She remembered refusing to look him in the eye after they had finally returned. He would try gauging words out of her, but she was too busy staring at the red that had stained her skin.
She remembered the last look in those blue eyes that she had fallen so deeply in love with… the longing. But here she stood, watching the body- that had once held her while she slept, danced with her in the kitchen, laughed at her horrible jokes and teasing -be lowered six feet into the dirt. The person she had shared everything with. The person who finally got her to live, to love, to be human. The person who turned her from marble to skin and bone. The person who made her whole.
The person who owned her heart.
That person was gone. Her entire world, now beneath her feet in the ground. Someone she’d never see again, except for her picture in the memorial hall. Except for in the picture frames hanging from the walls of their shared apartment. The pictures within her gallery. Their wedding picture on her side of the bed. The clothes that were still in her dresser and closet. The boots that still occupied the space by the door. The water bottle she always forgot to bring to work, but always remembered to fill up before she left.
She was gone. And with her, was Natasha’s heart.
---
“That gas, the counteragent, it was synthesized in secret by an older widow from Melina’s generation. I was on the mission to retrieve it, and she exposed me and I killed the widow that freed me,” Yelena spoke with heaviness in her tone, wincing slightly when Natasha pressed the cloth against her wounded arm.
Natasha’s eyes stayed locked on the blonde’s arm, carefully trying to clean the wound. “Did you have a choice?”
“What you experienced was psychological conditioning. I’m talking about chemically altering brain functions. They’re two completely different things,” Yelena flinched, trying to pull her arm from Natasha’s grip, only to be unsuccessful as Natasha’s grip tightened. “You’re fully conscious, but you don’t know which part is you. I’m still not sure.”
Natasha opened one of the packets of sanitizing wipes, taking the wipe and lightly rubbing against the cut. She tuned the kids playing out, focusing on her baby sister that sat in front of her, bleeding. “Is that all there is left?”
Yelena hummed, “It’s the only thing that can stop Dreykov and his network of widows.” Her tone grew sharp as Natasha pressed sharply against the cut, causing both of them to pause and stare at each other. The redhead leaned forward to lightly blow on the cut, ignoring the glare from her sister.
A cool and soft breeze brushed over them, pulling at their loose hairs that had escaped their braids. Natasha had to stop the bag on the table from blowing away by setting the bottle of alcohol onto it.
“He takes more every day. Children who don’t have anyone to protect them. Just like us, when we were small. Maybe one in twenty survives the training, becomes a widow. The rest, he kills. To him, we are just things,” Yelena’s voice held disgust and her accent grew heavier with her anger. “Weapons with no face that he can just throw away. Because there is always more. And no one’s even looking for him, thanks to you and Alexei.”
Natasha’s eyes shot up from where they were once focused on Yelena’s arm. She set the wipe onto the table and moved to grab the gauze and wrap. “Alexei?”
Yelena let out a dry chuckle as Natasha began to set the gauze over the cut. “Dad,” she said dryly.
Natasha glanced over Yelena’s shoulder at the sound of people talking over in the distance. She began wrapping the gauze around the wound until she felt there was enough there to hold out for a while. She tapped the blonde’s shoulder lightly before getting up and returning to her original seat across from her sister.
“Did you ever look for your parents? Your real ones?” Yelena questioned, moving her shoulder back and forth slightly as she talked.
Natasha snorted, leaning forward and grabbing her abandoned beer bottle. “Well, my mom abandoned me in the street like garbage. What about you?” She raised the bottle to her lips, the dull taste of beer slipping through her lips and down her throat.
“They destroyed my birth certificate, so I reinvented it,” Yelena said, earning a questioning look from Natasha. “My parents still live in Ohio. My sister moved out west.”
The redhead couldn’t help but chuckle. “Is that right?” She smirked as she took another sip from the bottle, her eyes never leaving Yelena’s.
“You’re a science teacher. You’re working part-time, though, especially after you had your son. Your husband, he renovates houses,” Yelena smiled into her own beer bottle, the one she finally decided to start drinking from.
Natasha couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head. “That is not my story.”
Yelena cocked her head to the side. “Then what is your story?” she asked.
Natasha readjusted in her seat, contemplating if that story was really worth telling. She sighed, “I am not only the Black Widow, but also a widowed spouse.” Yelena’s face dropped from surprise. “Funnily enough, I was married to a higher up. Someone who was… quite literally the second in command,” Natasha chuckled as nostalgia overtook her.
Yelena took a drink from her bottle before leaning forward, “Tell me about him.”
Natasha grinned, “We snuck around. Our boss, his name was Fury, he was the only one who ever found out about us prior to their death.”
“How did he find out?”
“Oh, he walked in on us,” Natasha snorted.
Yelena’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Okay, gross. That is disgusting. I didn’t need to hear about that.”
“You asked!” Natasha defended herself, a bright smile, one that hadn’t graced her features in a long time, appeared. Yelena only shook her head.
“Tell me more,” she requested.
Natasha leaned forward, setting her bottle back down onto the table. “Alright, I guess I better start out completely honest. ‘Him’ was in fact a ‘her’. I married the second in command to Director Fury, the Deputy Director known as Maria Hill.” Yelena’s eyes widened with the new information, but urged Natasha to keep going. “She wouldn’t indulge in my flirting at all in the beginning. She was this stone cold wall that couldn’t be pierced. She was the first person to not fall victim to my seductions.”
“Okay, so you’re a lesbian. That’s a new one. But it’s also new that someone could turn you down? So how exactly did you end up together?” The blonde questioned.
“She finally relented after a year of me pining after her,” Natasha grinned, her eyes shining. “We dated all the way up to the alien invasion in New York. Right after that fight, she proposed and we got married with our boss as our witness. More like eloped, but still.”
Yelena scowled, “I want a dog.”
---
“Whatever it takes,” she whispered, from where she sat. They both stared at the gaping cliff, the one where they knew someone was going to have to jump from. Her body shivered from the fear of possibly having to watch Clint fall.
The blonde man turned back to face her, “Whatever it takes.”
Their eyes met as Natasha pushed herself to stand, walking towards him slowly. “If we don’t get the stone, billions of people are going to stay dead,” she spoke calmly. The air around her was filled with dread, yet she felt a yearning feeling start to grow within her chest.
Clint chuckled and smiled at her, “Then I guess we both know who it has to be.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, stopping in front of him, “Guess we do.”
Clint reached forward and grasped her hand squeezing it tightly. They both leaned forward, their foreheads resting together as they embraced the last moment they would have with each other. As they both tried to communicate their goodbyes, Natasha squeezed his hand tighter, biting her lip as she pulled back to look into his eyes.
He narrowed his eyes on her. “I’m starting to think we don’t mean the same person,” he said, the smile on his face slowly fading as he gazed into Natasha’s eyes. The green irises were welling up with tears, a smile overcoming her.
She licked her lips, her grip on his hand never fading. “For the last five years, I’ve been trying to do one thing- get to right here. This is all it’s been about. Bringing everybody back.”
“Do not get all decent on me- ” his voice came out angry, his eyes boring into hers.
“I’m trying to save your life, idiot.”
“And I don’t want you to,” his voice was shallow, his emotions rising. “Nat. You know what I’ve done. What I am now. Your life’s not worth ten of mine- ”
“I don’t judge people by their worst mistakes,” she cut him off.
“Maybe you should,” he sighed. Their grip on each other’s hands were growing tighter, not willing to let go of each other.
Natasha glared at him. “You didn’t.” It caused him to pause. “Clint, you have a wife, kids! I don’t have any of that, anymore. You need to come out alive, I need to go and see her. Please.” He looked down, finally giving in to her.
He gave her his best smile,” You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” She laughed through her tears, nodding in confirmation. She relaxed and pulled away from him slightly, only to grunt as her back hit the ground beneath her.
“Tell my family I love them,” he looked away from her, “And say hi to Yelena for me.”
He took off running causing Natasha to shoot back up onto her feet and chase after him. Lunging forward and bringing him to the ground, she electrocuted him. “Tell them yourself. Take care of Yelena for me, and make sure you tell her I’m sorry,” her voice cracked at the end, but took that time to sprint for the ledge. She was so close, until an explosion caused her to go flying and land harshly back onto the ground.
Clint dropped his bow, taking the knock down as his victory and jumping. Natasha was too far ahead of him, though. As always.
She dropped the set for the hook and jumped, latching it onto Clint’s suit and waiting for herself to plummet to the ground. Instead she felt a jolt in her shoulder. Clint had grabbed her arm and was now refusing to let go, tears rolling down his face as Natasha stared back up at him.
“Damn you,” he cried, shaking his head at her in tears. They both hung there, dangling from the edge of the cliff in silence.
“Let me go,” she urged, a ghost of a smile growing on her face.
He shook his head, “No, please no.” Tears began to roll down his cheeks as his fingers began to slip.
She truly smiled this time. “It’s okay. Let me go,” he shook his head, “Let me go be with her, please.”
“Let me go.”
Clint began to protest, “Natasha no- '' but it was too late. With all of her force, she kicked off, causing Clint to lose grip and watch her slip and fall. He watched her as she fell, a smile of contentment flashing over her face. Happiness finally ebbing its way back into her features.
He hoped she would find her.
He hoped she would finally find her happiness again. He was going to head back to his, only because of her.
---
Blue eyes, soft lips, dark hair, strong arms. Natasha let herself sink into her wife, let her hold her as her body convulsed from sobs.
“God, I missed you,” Natasha sobbed into the taller woman’s neck. Her arms were slung over Maria’s shoulders, hands pressing against the pulse point of the woman’s neck. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
Maria hummed, resting her chin down onto the top of Natasha’s head. “I missed you too… you missed out on the boring parts of being dead.”
Natasha stiffened, pulling away from her. “Boring? Is that really how you would refer to that?” She stared at Maria with an accusing glare.
“How else would I refer to it? Anywhere without you is boring. I was stuck here, by myself, until you arrived. Which,” Maria cleared her throat and smiled, “Very dramatic way to go out. Nice touch.”
Natasha gasped, “Dramatic?! I saved billions of people!”
Maria smiled.
“That you did, my love. That you did.”