Natasha POV
"Ms. Romanoff, do you want to join us for dinner?" Steve asked while knocking on my door.
"No!" I yelled into the pillow.
"Are you sure?"
"Go. Away."
A good while passed and I didn't move from the bed.
"Natasha, open the door," Coulson said after knocking sharply.
"Go away Coulson."
"Wow, three words."
I didn't reply. Coulson unlocked my door and I felt him sit on the edge of the bed.
"Are you doing alright?" He asked, fingers snaking into my hair.
He must have seen Clint do that. I pretended for a while that it was Clint who was playing with my hair.
"You can't stay in here forever," Coulson said, breaking the illusion.
"Yes. I can."
"Natasha, please come eat."
"No."
"Clint wouldn't-"
"Guilt tripping," I interrupted quietly.
"What?"
"It's not gonna work."
"Natasha. I'm trying to help you."
"Don't want it."
Coulson played with my hair some more, not saying anything. For a while I could pretend it was Clint again.
"I'll bring you something to eat," Coulson said, standing up.
"Don't."
"You've got to eat."
"No I don't."
"Clint wouldn't want you to do that to yourself!"
"Clint should be here!" I yelled, pushing Coulson away.
Coulson sighed and pulled me against him.
"Yeah. He should be. But he isn't and we've got to move on Natasha."
"Leave me alone," I mumbled.
"No, please stop hurting yourself."
"I want Clint," I mumbled.
Coulson sighed again and ran his fingers through my hair.
"I do too. C'mon and eat."
I nodded and Coulson pulled me to my feet.
"It's goin to be okay."
"No it's not. He's gone."
"I know."
I leaned against Coulson as we walked down to the kitchen. All conversation stopped and I bit my lip.
"Hey Coulson, Natasha," Tony said after a while.
I ignored them and got a piece of toast and a glass of orange juice. I walked back up to my room and closed the door in Tony's face. I sat on Clint's bed again and munched on the toast.
"You can't hide in here," Coulson said, walking in and closing the door softly.
"Yes I can."
Coulson sat down next to me.
"Please leave me alone," I whispered.
"Please, let me help."
I shook my head and put the orange juice on the beside table.
"Why? Why won't you let me help?" Coulson asked.
"I didn't even get to say goodbye to him," I said, fighting back tears.
"None of us did. It's not an excuse!"
"Stop yelling at me!"
"What do you want me to do! Clint wouldn't want this for you! Understand!"
"Go away Coulson!"
"Fine!"
Coulson slammed the door after him. I laid back down and began crying. I kept crying even as the door was being opened again.
"I'm sorry. That was mean," Coulson sighed, sinking down beside me again.
"I miss him."
"I do too, but Natasha, people die."
"He's dead because of me and-"
"Natasha."
I paused and looked at Coulson.
"It's going to be okay. It's not your fault. Just, trust me okay?"
"Coulson, did they ever find Clint's body?"
Coulson hesitated and shook his head.
"So he could be alive?" I asked.
"Don't kid yourself."
"But Coulson-"
"Natasha, you know better than any of us not to torture yourself with that."
I nodded and Coulson hugged me again.
"Clint's in a better place."
"I hope so."
