Dear Agony

Chapter 7: Without You

Standing in the doorframe of the dark and silent apartment, Natasha felt as if her legs were about to give way under her. Over the course of a week she had barely survived falling from a 30 story building, had surgery twice, broke her leg, went into a coma for three days, and lost her husband. But just like after every mission, she was now home.

Turning on the blinding lights, Natasha quietly shut the door behind her and locked both of the locks on the door. These locks hadn't been used since someone else owned the apartment. She took small steps due to the brace on her leg, but also because she subconsciously didn't want to be here. She set the folded flag and Clint's ring on the counter of island in the kitchen, as she leaned up against the island, bearing her weight on it's surface. The granite felt like ice, and despite it being in the middle of June, the whole apartment was freezing.

On the counter by her hand was a pair of keys. She eyed the small silver objects reluctantly as she was forced to remember the seemingly normal life she lived a week ago. It was 5 o'clock in the morning when Fury called them in for a mission, and Natasha was the one to get up and answer the call. Clint had worked late the night before, so she let him sleep an extra twenty minutes while she packed what they would need in her car. She eventually had to practically drag him out of bed, like she usually had to do whenever they were called in for a mission early in the morning. But if she had known what was going to happen that day, she would have never woken him up.

When he was finally ready, he grabbed his car keys but Natasha told him she had already packed everything in the car. Clint made a tired yet relieved remark about how he thought for a minute he had lost his bow, and Natasha rolled her eyes at her husband's unorganized nature as she handed him a cup of coffee. Clint set his car keys down on the counter, and followed her outside, not knowing he would never return to their home. And now Natasha returned home only to face constant small yet painful reminders of what she lost.

Natasha violently pushed the keys off the counter, but the sound of them hitting the floor was followed by the rapid scrapes against the wood flooring as a large golden dog sprinted into the living room. Skidding to a halt, the dog's tail wagged rapidly as his hopeful eye looked around for his owners. Natasha lowered her head into her hands as Lucky barked, and finally rushed over to where she stood, happily trying to paw at her leg for attention. Natasha gruffly pushed the dog off her leg, as she walked into her room to change.

When she came back out, Lucky sat by the door, his eye focused on the doorknob, waiting for his other owner to return. His tail wagged rapidly as he sat there, but the dog's optimistic patience made Natasha feel almost sick, because she knew the hard truth. Walking over she took the dog's collar and lead him into her bedroom, closing the door. She didn't want to sleep in her own bed tonight, so instead she slept on the couch. Except to say that she actually slept was putting it lightly, because in reality she only stayed asleep until the nightmares began. They would always consist of what she saw on that last mission. Whether it be having to stare into her husband's lifeless face without being able to look away, or watching him die over and over again as she stood from afar, unable to do anything. The images were vivid and painful, but all too familiar. As the night grew longer, the more gory the images became. One dream even brought her back to her days in the KGB, where she saw herself shoot Clint in the head at point blank range.

She would jolt awake from these distorted memories, her hands and body shaking as she was covered in a cold sweat. Reaching from comfort, all she found were stiff couch pillows, when normally it would be Clint who would wrap his arms around her in support whenever she awoke with nightmares of her past. Finding no support in these inanimate objects, she pulled at her red hair as she held her knees close to her chest. Her hands trembled so much she could barely hold her knees close to her. She subconsciously bit at her lip so hard that she began to taste blood, but she mistook this blood as another hallucination in her nightmares. Natasha got no sleep on that first night by herself.