Chasing Cars

Part One

It was a day she always knew would eventually come, and yet it didn't happen like she had ever expected it to.

A call from Steve startled her awake in the middle of the night.

"Steve wha-"

"There's been an accident, Natasha." He interjected firmly.

She sat up slowly, the annoyed look in her eyes and face vanished. She slowly pushed a strand of red hair out of her gaze unable to find words. Her silence, she assumed, would suffice as an indication that she was ready for Steve to continue.

"Barton's in surgery. He was in an automobile wreck earlier this evening, while driving home from SHIELD's Airfield."

Steve spoke slowly, but to Natasha every word sped by her, each devastating revelation hitting her with the speed of a jet. Steve ran his mouth, and while hit voice was calm, he was unable to soften the blows.

"He was on country back roads. The roads were icy, and there was another flipped car. EMS didn't arrive fast enough, and he's in critical condition. He was helicoptered to the nearest hospital when he was finally found."

"Who else knows?" She managed to ask.

"I mean, I just got here but apparently he's been in the OR for hours now and-"

"Steve, who else knows about Clint?" She asked.

Her words were perceived by Rogers in a tone as cold as ice. Exhaling slowly, the overwhelmed and yet evasive soldier finally spoke, defeatedly.

"Fury didn't want me to tell you. No one else knows."

Outraged, Natasha yelled,

"You didn't think to call his family first? Laura must-"

"Natasha."

She couldn't remember a time where Steve's voice sounded so heavy, and cold. The shock of the severity of his tone silenced her.

"Natasha..." His voice softened and trailed, almost like an exhausted exhale. One last breath of defeat.

She lowered her gaze, and gripped the phone tightly as Steve finally said through a broken voice, almost unable to muster the words,

"They don't think he's going to make it."

-

By the time the five of them were sitting in those hard plastic chairs in the midst of long white halls, the bustling stream of the hospital corridors was silenced. The light brown coat Laura had been wearing was draped over Lila's form as she laid on her mother's lap asleep. A lowered head and unkempt brown hair concealed the face of Cooper. Laura sat between the two, her gaze lowered towards Lila as she stroked her hair weakly.

Cradled in Laura's other arm, swaddled in a blue blanket, was young Nathaniel Barton. Still too young to understand the pain his siblings, mother, and namesake felt - Natasha both envied and pitied him. He may never have to live remembering the pain of tonight, the long hours they had waited, the look in his siblings' and mother's eyes when she told them. He felt no pain now, but Natasha knew he may end up living his whole life without knowing his father.

Laura's eyes had dried by now. They were still brimmed pink, and gleaned with fatigue and pain, but she put on a small, even if hopeless, smile for her children. Natasha could not bring herself to do the same. When she stole a glance at Cooper's slumped form, she soon realized, her solemn attitude was contagious.

The halls were dark, for it was the wee hours of the morning now. Laura's attention never faltered, even if she looked exhausted, the woman never dozed off. Natasha couldn't blame her, even if she was tired enough to sleep in such a cold and uncomfortable setting, she would never be at ease enough to sleep. For like Laura, they could not sleep knowing time could be missed, and then just like that, it could be over.