The Eternal Avenger

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Carol

(Claray's POV):

The ride from Wakanda back to New York after the battle was mostly in silence. Natasha wouldn't let me out of her sight, almost as though she was afraid that I was going to disappear as well. When I sat beside her, she squeezed my hand so hard that it almost hurt, and every time I glanced at her, I could see tears threatening the corner of her eyes. She'd look away when she caught me looking at her, wiping her eyes hastily, replacing any expression on her face with her normal one full of determination. I felt empty. I watched Wanda turn to dust in front of my eyes, and even with all of my gifts, I was powerless to help her. The purple dickhead brought Vision back to life just to kill him again, right in front of the love of his life. There was cruelty, and then there was - whatever that was. Used to feeling Wanda's presence as an underlying constant inside of my mind, there was now nothing but emptiness.

Saying goodbye to Ayo and Okoye had been difficult. Wakanda was in turmoil, with both T'Challa and Shuri gone. As I said goodbye to the warrior women, however, I caught the smallest moment of tenderness between the two. Okoye had reached down and lightly pressed her fingers to Ayo's before removing her hand. The other woman had allowed the shimmer of a smile, before that was replaced by a look of determination and resolve that rivaled Natasha's. These strong women were going to be the death of me.

Tony was gone. Peter was gone. Doctor Strange was gone. We had no idea whether or not some or all of them had survived, or where they had gone. Rocket the racoon was working on fixing a tracking signal on a ship called the Benatar, whatever that was. The racoon was strangely detached after watching his tree friend turn to dust as well.

We arrived back to the tower, filing out of the jet and into the main building without a single word spoken. As we stood around the kitchen area, I became gut-wrenchingly aware of how many places were left empty of the people who usually filmed them. Clint was retired, but who knew if he was alive or not? Sam, Bucky, Wanda and Vision were gone. Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Rhodes, and I looked around the room before Steve uttered a single word. "Tomorrow."

(Natasha's POV):

I grabbed Claray's hand and led her towards the elevators. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to think. I didn't want to do anything but close my eyes and rewind the past few hours - not the way Thanos had rewound time, apparently, but for real so I could bring my family back. The hybrid beside me gripped my fingers as tightly as I held on to hers. I could feel the sadness emanating off of her. I missed Wanda too, but I knew that nothing I could do or say would make the ache both of us were feeling go away. I pulled Claray into the room, closing and locking the door behind her. She looked at me, and the emotions she was feeling joined mine and washed over us both. Loss. Sadness. Anger. Mourning. Helplessness. The last one was the hardest to deal with. She reached forward, cupping my face in her gentle hands, and I nuzzled my cheek against her fingers slightly. She pulled me close into her chest, and I inhaled deeply. Very few things felt safe to me right now, but this was one of them. I pulled away from the embrace just long enough to reattach our hands, pulling her towards my bed, climbing in and then feeling the dip in the mattress as she joined me. She wrapped her arm around my waist, pulling me tight against her chest, squeezing. The loud sob I'd been holding for hours finally released itself uncontrollably, and the tears followed soon after. Claray held me while I shook uncontrollably, wrapping the blanket around us both, whispering and kissing the back of my neck soothingly. I don't know how long I cried, but I exhausted myself even further, drifting off to sleep feeling the safety of the hybrid all around me.

(Claray's POV)

I didn't get any sleep. Natasha had finally - finally - showed her vulnerable side, and I was furious. Not at her, that could never happen. I was furious at the series of events that led us here. Led us to the point where the love of my life - the woman who was stronger than almost anyone I had ever met - broke down completely. I wanted to tear the world apart, looking for the monster who would dare do this to her. For Natasha, feeling helpless and unable to do anything to help people she cared about, let alone the world as a whole, was worse than dying. She was the person who would always choose to make the sacrifice. During one of our many conversations in the shop, she talked to me briefly about her past. The files were out to the public now, anyway, and I could have looked them up if I was curious. But the way she talked about her past - the things she had done, the way she had been raised to be a perfect killing machine rather than a person - she believed she still had sins to make up for. That somehow doing good in the world would account for what she believed to be the evil she had done previously. Her guilt over situations far outside of her own control did more than any actions she could have taken to prove to me her worthiness. She told me about the night the team sat around trying to lift Thor's hammer right before the Ultron attack. She said that she had no need of knowing the answer to that question. I always wondered if it was really because she could have lifted it, but didn't want to show up the boys. I smirked to myself, thinking of Natasha wielding Mjolnir. The Russian squirmed slightly in my arms, and I wrapped her up even tighter, pulling her flush against my chest. The nightmares this woman suffered from were unbelievable, and I wanted to take them all away. Damn soulmate couldn't even let me do that, she had to be immune. Stubborn as always, my Natasha.