Eleanor Rigby; W. Maximoff ²✓

twelve.

"Find anything about Clint?" Leigh asked sadly, but judging by Natasha's appearance, it was a particularly hard day.

Leigh's own appearance wasn't much better, she had started taking as many shifts at the hospital as possible. The brunette's hair went un-washed, and the dark bags under her eyes had seemingly gotten darker.

"Nothing good, if that's what you're asking," Natasha noted, cutting her peanut butter sandwich down the center.

Leigh pulled out a chair and sat down with a quiet sigh of relief, her feet were killing her, "What was it now?"

Natasha looked at Leigh reluctantly, she was aware of the fact that Leigh was nearly thirty, but she still wished to protect her from everything possible. "Do you really want to know? Because at this rate I feel like I should be protecting your image of him... I'm losing hope."

"That bad, huh?" the brunette pressed her lips together, blinking several times, "I'm not giving up on him, Nat. He never even thought about giving up on me."

"I know." Natasha leaned further back into her seat, almost crumpling in on herself.

A beat of silence hung in the air, "It hurts, you know? Clint was there the moment I called him, I mean when I met the two of you, I was seventeen, and broken as hell. Clint was...is more of a dad to me than mine ever was...and he's not gone. But he's kind of gone."

Leigh let out a long sigh, "I should go shower, and get out of these scrubs." 

The woman still however had yet to actually stand up from the chair, "I'd offer to cook us dinner, but you already seem sad enough." Leigh looked up to find Steve leaning against the shelf.

"Come by to do your laundry?" Natasha asked, and Steve nodded, "And to check in on the two of you."

"I'm fine." Natasha stated firmly, "You leave the house today?" Steve arched an eyebrow at the woman.

"Nothing out there I particularly want to see."

"I just got back from the hospital. I have no care to leave the house." Leigh stated, rubbing her forehead.

"I spotted a pod of whales coming over the bridge" Steve quipped, "Whales?" Leigh questioned, a bit confused.

"In the Hudson," Natasha added, skeptically. 

Steve shrugged, "Fewer ships, cleaner water. Just saying, there's still a world out there."

Leigh thought about noting the fact that there were also still plenty of sick people or hurt people. The brunette spent most of her time with them.

Natasha's eyes dropped to the desk for a moment, "If you're gonna tell me to look on the bright side, hit you in the head with a peanut butter sandwich."

Steve sighed quietly, his shoulders falling a bit, "Sorry." he moved to sit across from the two women, "Force of habit." 

Leigh closed her eyes for a couple of seconds, just a moment of stillness, Natasha slid the plate with her sandwich on it over toward Steve and Leigh sent her a slight glare, "I'm taking the sandwich. I just got off a ten-hour shift. Sorry, Steve."

The man nodded in understanding, and Leigh bite into the sandwich, "You know, I keep telling everybody they should move on and grow," he paused, "Some do. But not us."

Leigh shrugged, "Moving on is overrated."

"If I move on...who does this?" Natasha asked, "Maybe it doesn't need to be done." Steve answered.

Leigh could see the tears building up behind Natasha's eyes, and felt the sting of her own. The brunette so desperately wished she could move on...but she just couldn't. She couldn't.