The Five Years (Romanogers)

Chapter 13: Healer

(Steve's POV)

"Nat! Come on. You gotta stay awake. No no Nat. Come on fight it! Your strong! I need you!" I started the car and speed off. I tried as best I could to pay attention to the road but it was hard because I kept looking at Nat to make sure she was okay. I gently held her hand as I drove down the rocky road.

We finally reached the lake house and I swiftly grabbed Nat and went inside. It's been awhile but I don't have time to reminisce. I put Nat in the couch and rush into the kitchen for the first aid kit. I jog back over to her with the first aid kit and a glass of water. I put the water on the coffee table and the first aid kit on the floor. I look at her wound. I take her leg and start to disinfect it, just in case. Then I clean the blood that dripped down her leg. I then got the stitches and started to stitch her up. It's not perfect but I'm normally not the person who does this. In fact it was Nat who always did this when Dr. Cho wasn't around.

As I continued to stitch her up I saw her shoulders move.
Thank god!
I quickly finished.
Not bad.
"N-Nat" I cleared my voice as I talked.
She twitched. I picked her up and went up stairs to the bedroom. I laid her on her bed. She was in her boots so I carefully took them off and tucked her in. She mumbled something I couldn't hear but then she nestled into her bed sighing in comfort. I smiled. She moved then grabbed my hand. She squeezed it once and dropped.

I sat down on the chair next to her bed and listened to some music in my new smart phone. Finally figured that little thing out. Then one of the songs from the Trouble Man soundtrack Sam told me to listen to when I meet him played. I bend my head down in dismay.
Damn it! Why couldn't I save him... all of them... why Steve. You're just a kid from Brooklyn, no good! Bucky was right I wasn't cut out for this, any of this. You can't protect those that you love. You could've.
I felt anger boil up in myself. I need to punch something. I clenched my fists and walked out of the room so I could take a breath of fresh air.

PUNCH! Stupid!
PUNCH! Bucky
PUNCH! Sam!
PUNCH! Wanda!
PUNCH! EVERYONE!
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After my 'breath of fresh air' I sit down at the small grey chair the the corner of the bedroom. I walked in to see Nat move.
"Nat?" I gasped calmly. She jolted up.
"Steve? Where the hell am I?" She says looking around the room. Before I could reply she takes a deep breath and lays back down.
"Oh..." she put her hand on her cut leg.
"Ah.. sorry it's not the best... you know I'm not the best at that." I scratch my head and look to the floor.
"It's getting a LOT better." She smirked I looked up at her confused on why she is smirking.
"Hm?"
"Don't you remember the first time?" She looked up still smirking. I shook my head no. She sat back up.
"Pft okay... well you didn't exactly get the wound. You got everything else but the wound." She laughed.
I scratched the back of my head in embarrassment.
"Oh haha Nat, last time I remembered... you aren't that good at roller skating." I said back. Her eyes widened then went back to typical sassy Nat.
"Wanna bet on that Rogers?" She challenged me.
"Ah... I would but your leg is in no condition, plus we are about 3 hours away from a roller rink."
"Pft... chicken." She whispered.
"Wow I'm hurt Nat." I sarcastically said sitting on the bed next to her.
"Better be."

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(Natasha's POV)
We went into the living room with our pasta to eat. I was slightly limping due to the cut in my leg. At first Steve tried to help me but I insisted on him not. I could handle myself

Steve took a deep breath. I looked over confused.
"Nat.... are you okay?" He looked me in the eyes.
"Well the pain is going down I took some ibuprofen."
"You know that's not what I mean."
"No I really don't Rogers..."
"What is wrong? Why are we here?"
"Well I just needed an excuse to come back here. I just really love the memories of us and Cl-Clint." I stopped. My tears were threatening to spill. I mentally slapped myself.
Your stronger than this Natalia.

Steve sighed and I looked over at the fireplace mantel with a picture of him, Clint, and I the day we finally finished the house. We looked so proud... so happy.

Drip
One tear.

"Natasha... is this why? You miss Clint. That's what you wanted to come here. You wanted to see if maybe we could find him. You want to be near him."
I choked.
"Wow you really are smart." I said solemnly, twirling my pasta.
"Natasha you can express your feelings. It's okay."

"NO! I can't Steve! I'm trained not to express my emotions. Not to feel anything, I'm not allowed. I won't allow myself. I'm stronger than this! I'm not some damsel who is crying over that stupid Clint... the one that saved me! I'm not crying over the one who believed in me for so long. Who was there when I needed him the most. To comfort me, to-to make sure I was okay when no one else thought this sad, pathetic, stupid, monster could ever be 'normal'! The one person who showed me the good in people. That let me see the light in people. The person who eventually led me to meet my best friends, since all my other 'friends' were killed by MYSELF! He always helped me! And I couldn't do the thing he needed me to do. I couldn't save his family! Steve! They were the only people keeping him from going insane! I couldn't do it! Now he's gone. I don't know where?! HELL HE COULD BE DEAD FOR ALL I KNOW! Th-that voice mail... the PAIN in his voice. The fact that his life was gone! The fact that I could've saved them! But I couldn't! I- I wish I could turn myself in! I wish I was snapped! So that at least ONE of them could stay! If there was one then he could've been okay! I'm broken. I deserve no place in this goddamn world. I should've died a long time ago."
I screamed.

Steve sat there shocked. I can't do this anymore! Steve thinks I'm a psycho, I need to go. I can't do this anymore. I need to leave. Forever. It's too much for me. I was stupid to come here.
ты ничего не заслуживаешь, Наташа! Клинт ушел из-за тебя!
(You deserve nothing, Natasha! Clint is gone because of you!)

Before I could make my move to leave Steve, as always, knew what I was going to do. He gently, yet with force, grabbed my wrist and made me look him dead in the eyes.

(Third Person POV)

As they sat there for a moment, one small moment, eyes locking into the others. Both eyes glossy, green and blue. For one moment, peace. Almost a certainty of peace. An odd moment for either one of them. It felt right, yet in both their broke souls, very wrong.
Slowly, yet confidently, their heads moved slowly towards each other.

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