natasha romanoff one-shots (gxg)

𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 (𝟑/𝟑)

a/n: okay next + (hopefully) last part

i'm going to be very honest right now: i had zero clue what to write for this. it took me a while to figure it out, and i'm still not 100% happy. also, i don't think most of this is accurate for nat, but in a way, it also kind of is? (idk lol)

still, i hope you'll enjoy this :)

Grief is a complex emotion.

People think they know everything about it until they actually experience it — and suddenly, they realize they didn't know anything at all.

When Natasha returns to the compound, soul stone in hand, she doesn't say anything for a good five minutes. No matter how many people start talking to her, asking her what happened and where you are — she stays silent. Then, as if someone flipped a switch, she starts snapping at everyone who even dares to say your name.

It takes some arguing for her to hand over the stone, but then she basically throws it at Tony, who catches it with ease, before storming off to your room. Her brain still hasn't fully processed the events that happened, still hasn't realized that you're gone. In search for your comfort, your presence, she busts into your room, taking in every inch, every corner of it. The bed, still looking as unmade as it was when you got out of it this morning, your pillow still dented. The pictures everywhere. The books, some with bookmarks in them, others left open carelessly. Shoes, jackets, the ring on your nightstand.

"Don't want to lose it on Vormir."

The way you said it with such earnestness, as if your biggest concern was losing that damn ring. Natasha would've bought you a thousand new rings, one prettier than the other. Hell, she never even cared about the ring — it's a symbol, something replaceable. You are not replaceable. But you decided to leave the ring behind when going to Vormir, and so you lost something entirely different than a stupid piece of jewelry.

Natasha shakes her head, feeling her eyes glaze over again. She drops onto the floor, the sobs cutting through the unbearable silence of your room. A space that used to be the safest on earth, the one she'd always rush to. It was her own slice of peace, reserved for you and her alone.

And now that you're gone, she doesn't want this space anymore. All it does is remind her of what she's lost, and the fact that it's her fault. There's no one to blame but her, at least in Natasha's mind. Her brain is too ridden by grief to think clearly, and the only thing she's sure of is that you dying is her fault alone. She should've tried harder to stop you, to get to the cliff first. She should've jumped.

It should've been her.

A small, way too quiet part of her that you shaped and molded with your words and presence is telling her otherwise, but she can't hear it over the loud noises in her head. She continues to blame herself as she gets up and leaves the room, closing the door behind her with a gentleness that seems almost ridiculous. Your room is empty, no one is in there — there's no need to close the door quietly.

"We'll only blame ourselves" — you said it yourself, mere days before the mission. You knew that if something went wrong, no one would blame you. As long as you tried to bring everyone back, people would be content. They'd know that the Avengers did more than sit around and wallow in their own misery, that they at least put some energy into bringing back their friends and family and loved ones.

And you also knew that — no matter how hard you tried or how well you did —, any kind of failure or loss would be something you'd blame yourselves for. That's exactly what Natasha is doing now, and it's the one thing you never wanted her to do.