~Marvel One-Shots~

Not The Same (Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff)

 WARNING!! THIS CHAPTER MAY HINT TO SPOILERS IN INFINITY WAR AND MAYBE EVEN AVENGERS FOUR! READ AHEAD AT YOUR OWN RISK! (also includes my own spin on how I think things should have turned out)

"Clint, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm fixing the sink, obviously." Clint ran a greasy hand through his dirty blonde hair and stood up. Natasha shot him a confused look.

"Shouldn't we . . . Call Stark for that or something?"

"What? Are you judging my plumbing skills?" he joked.

"Oh of course not. Plumbing's just . . . not your thing," she teased, slapping him playfully on the shoulder. 

"Besides, we couldn't call Stark. It's Pepper's birthday, we shouldn't bother him," Clint went on. 

Then Nat remembered their friend's birthday. Ever since Tony had announced their engagement, Pepper was all Tony seemed to be concerned with. Which was fine, because Nat and about a few other million people knew how Tony used  to be. Pepper had finally managed to tame the beast, and Natasha was happy for them. However they still had managed to come down to Clint's home for weekend to visit, as the whole team had. 

She wasn't sure she felt all lovey dovey about anybody though. Ever since being a spy, Nat had learned to be cautious. Perhaps she had built her own wall over the years, and the only one that ever seemed to break that wall was Banner. However, that had crashed and burned. And ever since that, Natasha hadn't really felt anything for anyone. 

"You alright?" called Clint. 

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." But truthfully, she wasn't entirely sure. She turned away from Clint to stare out his house's window onto the farm. 

"You sure?" Clint called behind her. "You were staring at the wall for a good minute, which I know means your thinking."

Natasha shrugged off her annoyance. "No seriously Clint, I'm fine." 

"Nat, I've known you long enough to know - or at least get a hint - as to when you're lying. What's wrong?"

She ran a finger through her hair which she had dyed back to a gingery-red color. She shuddered as she recalled recent and awful memories, memories from Thanos, ones that she was determined to forget. Memories of her friends turning to nothing . . . all at the snap of a finger. 

After she refused to answer for a while, she heard Clint get up and walk away, his boots creaking on the wood, without saying another word. She had stayed silent long enough for him to get the hint and go, because anyone who knew her knew that when she didn't want to talk, she didn't have to talk.

She must have been staring outside for long time, because she swore she saw the sun start to set across the horizon. Sighing, she walked back to her bedroom, in which she was surprised to find that her door was shut. She opened it with caution, cracking it open only slightly. 

To her surprise, she saw Steve sitting on the bed, looking out the window facing away from her. 

"What the hell Steve? What are you doing in here?"

Steve instantly turned around, looking innocent and at a loss for words. It was odd how his face looked . . . Nat saw pain, sorrow, regret . . .

She immediately softened her gaze and opened the door all the way. Steve turned away from her and back to the window. "Sorry . . ." he mumbled ever so slightly. "I just . . . I don't have a window in my room and your window faces the sunset so-"

"It's okay," she jumped in, pursing her lips for no reason.  She walked in and sat next to Steve, leaving little space between them. "What's on your mind?" she asked gently, looking up to his face. He refused to match her gaze.