Romanogers - Oneshots

He's gone (1)

One of two parts.

The Avengers are sitting in the lounge at the tower. It feels strange to call them that, Natasha thinks. It's their official name of course, but for her they are friends. They are family.

There are snacks on the coffee table and a movie is playing extremely quietly in the background, though people stopped playing attention about five minutes after the start. Almost perfect. Almost.

She keeps looking round, looking in the corner of her eye to meet his gaze and exchange a smile, and then has to remind herself he's not there. He's out on a mission with Tony. He'll be back soon, she reminds herself. No situation feels complete until Steve participates, for Natasha at any rate.

There's a creak as the door opens. They all turn to look as Tony walks in the door, still laughing. A natural smile gracing her features, she prepares to beckon him over to sit next to her.

But something's wrong. Natasha feels her insides go slightly cold. Something's not right.
Tony walks a few steps. He's staring at the floor as if he wishes it would swallow him up. There's silence. His hands keep tapping at his sides, or fumbling with each other as his eyes don't stray from the scintillating pattern of the floorboards. Natasha's heart drops. She gets up out of her seat and walks a few steps, the team behind her.

She breaks the silence, trying to keep her voice light. "Where's Steve, Tony?"
He looks up then, but doesn't reply, just looks at her. His eyes look wet. But that doesn't make any sense. She thinks. Tony never cries.
Her brain is struggling to function. She's trying to push down the information that is seeping out of every pore in her surroundings. What Tony is trying to tell her. No no no no no. Please God no.

She can feel her throat getting increasingly tight, her lashes start beading with tears. But she refuses to believe what everything is telling her right now. It can't be true.

Her voice sounds strange when she speaks, and a tear rolls down her cheek. "Tony, where. Is. Steve."

The other Avengers are now staring at the floor. Sam's face is screwed up, his eyes shut tightly, fists balled at his sides. Wanda has her arms wrapped around herself, tears running down her cheeks.

Natasha stands alone.

"Steve...Steve is..." Tony struggles to speak. "Steve...I'm so sorry Nat."
"No. Please no." She shakes her head in denial, but can feel the wave about to descend. About to drown her.
She balls her fists. It can't be true. The universe has done many things to Natasha, but this joke is just too cruel to play.
"Steve's dead..." He finally gets it out, devastation washing over his face.

The room starts spinning. She stumbles, and someone runs over to catch her and she collapses into their arms. Wanda half-leads-half-drags her over to a chair and she falls into it. The room is still spinning. She breathes in and out, breath coming ragged and each one a small gasp. Wanda clutches onto her hand. She's saying something to Natasha, but she can't hear her, she can't hear anything, just a rushing sound, because Steve is dead.

Natasha lets out a noise so raw and tortured as this realisation crashes into her like a tsunami, it frightens the others. It's the cry of a dying animal. Everything hurts. She swears she can feel every cell in her body burning in agony. She wraps her arms around her shoulders and rocks forward so her forehead is touching her knees. She continues like this, an agonised sobbing that's hard to listen to. Wanda is still by her side and rubs her back, whispering in her ear, inaudible however to Natasha. Tony comes over awkwardly, tears silently rolling down his cheeks.
"Nat...I'm so, so, sorry. I know you two were close."

This triggers another cry of pain from the woman in the chair. Her entire body shakes with misery. The others look away as the fiery Black Widow shatters into a million pieces before their very eyes.

Natasha's palms push into her eyes, as if that will stem the flow of torturous images flashing in her mind. He's there, playing on a loop, soft smiles and encouraging nods and comforting embraces. And he's gone. Gone. Gone forever. She's never going to see him again. She'll never hear his voice again. She'll never laugh with him again. Because he's gone. A framed photo on the coffee table makes her want to scream. She's seen it almost every day since joining the Avengers, but now she wants to throw it across the room and see it smash into a million, tiny shards of glass.

In the photo, the Avengers are on the roof of the tower. It's a windy day, their hair whips around their faces. Natasha remembers that day. They were told to act natural for the team photo. People struck silly poses, chatted, simply smiled at the camera. Steve had whispered a joke in her ear before it was taken, and her head is thrown slightly back as she laughs, an expression of pure joy gracing her face. She clutches Steve's arm. He is looking at her. Looking at her with a soft smile, like she's the only girl in the room. Looking at her like she's everything.

Her hands rub over her face as she leans back in the high-backed dining chair before falling into her lap. The tears don't stop. They roll down her cheeks and all the way down her neck when she doesn't dab at them, like crystal beads as she sobs, silently now.

At one point the tears stop. Her eyes are red, raw and sore. There are streaks all down her face and neck. A little snot gathers around her nose. Natasha feels exhausted. But she doesn't sleep. She can't. Too many images play whenever she closes her eyes. She feels dehydrated, like there's no water left in her body. But she doesn't drink. She can't. It hurts to move. Her joints are stiff from sitting in the same position for too long. But she doesn't move. She can't. It hurts too much. It hurts to breathe, to think. God, just being alive hurts. Knowing that he's not out there somewhere, on his way home, is killing her, she's sure of it.

At some point she feels herself being lifted into the air. Tony carries her to her room and unlocks it, setting her on the bed. He doesn't change her, but dabs at her face with a wet flannel as she stares into the distance, emotionless, empty. He feels slightly afraid of her in this moment, though he would never admit it. The Natasha he knows is gone. The green eyes Tony has known for for about ten years, deep, sharp, hyperaware of their surroundings, are now changed. Somehow all the colour has been sucked out, they are now a watery grey. They are a vacuum, hollow.

There's nothing inside anymore, he thinks. I've broken her. Irreparable. She stares into the distance, almost unblinking, no life in her eyes, no flickers, no recognition, as she scrutinises the ceiling.

Eventually she falls asleep and he puts her under the covers before he leaves. She's already frowning, tossing and turning as he steps into the hallway. None of them are going to be okay for a very long time.

I don't really know what to say. Ouch, maybe?