”Still no change?”
Natasha would’ve never admitted it but Steve actually managed to sneak up on her even though she managed to hide her minute flinch. From the corner of her eye, she saw Steve standing a bit to her left, his hands in his pockets, and a frown on his face. The frown made him look annoyed but she knew it was to hide his sorrow.
”No,” she replied, shifting her focus back into the room behind the one-way mirror.
Steve sighed. ”That’s not good.”
Natasha pursed her lips together in a tight line and said nothing.
On the other side of the mirror, Clint was sitting cross-legged on his bed, a soft grin on his face as he listened intently. It was a familiar look on him and it made Natasha’s heart ache. She’d seen too little of it lately, what with everything going on in the aftermath of the Battle of New York.
Steve reached out his hand and gently gripped her shoulder. ”You know what must be done, right? We can’t leave him like this.”
”Why not?” She asked out of spite. She knew why but it didn’t make her any less angry.
”Because it would be cruel,” Steve said softly.
She knew that, of course she did. Strike Team Delta had been a tight-knit unit for over a decade and during that time they’d gone from a handler and assets to friends and lovers. Throughout her life, Natasha had learned to trust a handful of people and love even less. It was tearing her apart to see her family hurt, and there was nothing she could do.
Clint’s bright laughter bounced around in the room behind the mirror and for a split moment, Natasha couldn’t breathe. His throaty chuckles had always made her feel like something light bubbled inside of her but now she just felt numb.
”It’s going to wreck him,” she whispered and glanced at Steve, not bothering to hide the tears in her eyes. ”I can’t—” She snapped her mouth shut and clenched her jaw to stop herself from saying more.
I can’t do this, not to him. He’s lost so much already.
She heard a soft tap on the door before it opened slightly and Tony stepped in. ”JARVIS said it’s not wearing off,” he said quietly, tapping away with his phone without looking at her. ”Bruce’s almost—”
”Are you recording this?” Natasha snarled, tearing her eyes away from Clint who had laid down on his side and had his hand stretched out like he was reaching out for something.
Or someone.
”Natasha—” Steve started but Tony silenced him with a hand on his arm.
”As you well know, JARVIS has been living in the Helicarrier since before the Battle,” Tony said, tapped his phone a couple of times before pocketing it. ”He’s running interference so that SHIELD can neither see nor record anything.” He glanced briefly at Clint and then looked at her again, his gaze serious and intense. ”If you think he’d want a…memento of the experience, let me know. Otherwise, JARVIS will purge the system when we’re done.”
She averted her eyes and blinked, then nodded without saying anything.
Tony reached out with his hand, hesitated, and then awkwardly patted her arm a couple of times before retreating to lean against Steve.
She turned to watch Clint again. He looked happy and relaxed, his eyes half-mast. It felt like an intrusion, watching him like this but she couldn’t help it. He was vulnerable now even if he didn’t know it himself.
”Could you give me a moment?” She asked, barely managing to keep her voice steady. Via the reflection on the one-way mirror, he saw how the men glanced at each other, then Steve said ”Of course,” and they left the room hand in hand.
”Let me know if you need anything,” Tony said from the door. ”Or ask JARVIS.”
”Yeah,” she said.
When she heard the door close, she let out a shuddering breath and stopped holding back her tears. Clint had fallen asleep, a small smile tugging at his lips.
”Doctor Banner wished to let you know that he’s ready and waiting for your instructions,” JARVIS said in a hushed tone.
”Thank you. Tell him…” She closed his eyes and swallowed. ”Five minutes.”
”Of course, Agent Romanov,” JARVIS murmured.
Her vision blurry with tears, she started singing the old Russian lullaby she’d sung when they’d stood guarding Phil after his disastrous mission in Moldova and when Clint had been bleeding to death in Budapest. He wasn’t sure to whom she was singing it this time.
”I’m sorry, Yastreb,” she whispered.
I’m so sorry I have to do this. I’m sorry I have to rip out your heart again.
Please forgive me.