no words appear before me in the aftermath
you’re back.
“hey, where’s romanoff?” tony asks you. you look at him. your eyes are hollow, you don’t feel anything other than blinding pain.
everyone else gathers around you. they’re talking but their voices are merely an echo.
steve says your name. you look at him with quivering lips. that’s when he knows. you’re back but she isn’t.
salt streams out my eyes and into my ears
a knock is heard around your room. you don’t look up from the bed. you hear shuffling until a head peeks over you. it’s tony. he says your name, pity dripping from it.
“you should eat something. here,” he puts a tray on your nightstand, “i made you your favorite.” you don’t answer. he simply kisses your hair and leaves.
every single thing i touch becomes sick with sadness
you become a shell of a person. you barely eat, barely sleep, you just walk around the compound like a ghost that’s haunting it.
cause it’s all over now, all out to sea
it’s not until a month passes that it hits you. everyone is back, but she’s not. the firm ground you once walked on has been broken under your feet and the warmth you once felt is gone. tony told you he tried to bring her back when he snapped but he couldn’t. it wasn’t posible. the deal wasn’t interchangeable. he’s healing better than you would’ve expected, even though his right arm is almost useless, but he manages. they all do. steve is captain america, he needs to be strong for the people. thor is rebuilding his home, making it better. bruce is happier, he doesn’t feel like a monster anymore. the one that isn’t doing great is clint, but still, he has his family, so he mourns in silence, he hides. you once found him crying in the garden of the rebuilt compound, you tried to console him but words failed you. what could you have said? you were no better than him. you were a wounded animal, veiling your pain, trying to lick your own wounds but they were so bitter. you were so bitter.
goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. you were bigger than the whole sky, you were more than just a short time. and i’ve got a lot to pine about, i’ve got a lot to live without, i’m never gonna meet what could’ve been, would’ve been, what should’ve been you
the funeral isn’t until two months after it happens. there’s no body, so it’s a closed casket. you’re thankful for that, even though you feel guilty for it. you don’t think you could handle seeing her again. not like that.
everyone is crying. tony only invited the avengers, no one else. this is a private ceremony, it’s intimate. there’s a lot to mourn, a lot to cry about.
you stand up to the podium and clear your throat.
“natasha was a good person.” you begin. everyone is looking at you. you look at clint. he nods. “but she was also so goddamn stupid sometimes, so stubborn.” your eyes well up. you can feel it, they all can, you’re about to break. “she was the love of my life…” you trail off. you look at all these people. these people that loved her. that knew her. but no one knew her like you did. no one loved her like you. you say your goodbye in the way that everyone expected, calm, collected, the right amount of sadness, and then, before you know it, it’s done.
it’s two days later when you go back alone. you sit on the ground and touch the gravestone.
“yelena says she really likes the compound.” you smile softly. “she says it’s very cool, very future-y.” you chuckle. you know natasha loved her sister and she would find peace in knowing that she’s alright, that she’s being taken care of. you purse your lips to stop them from quivering. “i’m so mad at you natasha.” you tell the piece of stone. “i’m so goddamn mad at you.” your face scrunches up and tears begin falling from your eyes. “now we’re never going to live in a pretty house in a nice neighborhood and cook dinner every night together and laugh because the only thing you know how to cook is a peanut butter sandwich.” you chuckle through your tears. “why’d you leave me natty? we could’ve found another way- i know what you would say- there was no other way detka. but we would’ve made one. i would’ve done anything for you. now, even though you’re gone-“ a sob escapes you as you say the last word. “even now, everything i do is still for you.” you sniffle. “i do it with the hope that you’re somewhere seeing me. i need you to be somewhere nat, i need you.” winds blows on your face and you feel the tears dry up on your cheeks. “how am i gonna do this without you, huh? i’m a mess, i can barely do normal tasks. i just- i wanted to grow old with you.” you sob with your face in your hands. a while passes and sobs continue to wrack through your body in the silence of the cemetery. “and i’m never gonna see your old self. i’m never gonna meet what should’ve been you.” you have nothing else to say, so you sit in silence, caressing the tombstone. two hours pass until you decide to get up and leave. once in the compound, you head to the kitchen to grab some food and have a silent dinner in your room.
did some bird flap it’s wings over in asia? did some force take you because i didn’t pray?
grief is a complicated thing. you have always been familiar with the stages, yet since they’re happening to you you don’t really realize it.
today is a difficult day. you woke up and turned around to hug her but were quickly hit by reality when she wasn’t there for you to touch. you spent your whole morning crying. now, it’s early afternoon and you’re having something to eat in the compound’s kitchen.
“hey kid, how are you?” tony asks as he enters all sweaty, probably coming from the gym.
“hi.” you say to him. you don’t answer his question.
“how are you?” he asks again, more pointedly this time. you shrug. he says your name, almost pleading. “please talk to me. yell at me if you need to but- say something.”
“i have nothing to say.” he says your name again, firmly.
“you lost someone. hell, you didn’t just lose someone, you lost natasha. but-“ he runs his hands through his hair. “we all lost her, we can understand.”
“sorry tony, but i don’t think you can.” you tell him dryly. you know his intentions are good but he can’t really stand in front of you and say i get it. he does not. no one does. tony sighs.
“you know what? maybe you’re right.” you frown. what is he saying? “though someone might.”
“who? yelena? clint?” he rolls his eyes.
“no. a therapist.”
every single thing to come has turned into ashes. cause it’s all over, it’s not meant to be, so i’ll say words i don’t believe
turns out, tony was serious when he mentioned the therapist. you’re in her office now, sitting down and looking anywhere but at her. she says your name. you hum in response. she says your name again.
“look at me.” you do and swallow hard. “you don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to.” you smile bitterly.
“there’s nothing to say. even if i did want to say something.” you clarify. dr. lopez nods.
“do you want to have something to say?”
“i don’t… no.” you shake your head. “it’s not worth it.”
“why not?”
“nothing will be able to express what i feel.” you shrug. “and really, it’s just grief. nothing too shocking.”
“you know, just because you know it’s grief doesn’t make it easier to feel it.” you purse your lips. the therapist straightens up in her chair, almost as if she just had an idea. “what color is grief?” she asks. you frown.
“what?”
“tell me, when i say grief, what color do you see?”
“um…” you look down. a color? it couldn’t just be a color. it had to be more. “i don’t think-“
“just try.” she tells you.
“um… i guess… i guess white.”
“why?”
“because it’s… it’s not just the color, it’s like a white room, empty and with no end.” dr. lopez smiles briefly. you narrow your eyes. “that’s… that’s how i feel?” you ask her.
“you tell me.”
“i-“ you take a deep breath and shake your head. the therapist tilts her head. “can’t.” you simply say, choked up.
“i’m going to tell you something about myself.”
“you can do that?”
“if it helps my patient then yes, i can.” you purse your lips and nod. “when i was eighteen, my best friend and i got into a car accident.” you look at her. “she died.” you swallow. “for a year i didn’t talk about it. didn’t even say her name. you know why?” you shake your head even though you have your suspicions. “because talking about it would make it real. and if it was real then i was going to feel a lot of pain, pain i wasn’t sure i could handle feeling.” you shake your head.
“no, i- i get where you’re going with this but i know i can’t handle that pain. i’ll die.”
“do you really think that?”
“if i don’t i’ll kill myself.” you tell her. she looks at you. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“you don’t need to apologize for grieving.” you look at her. then you look down, your hands are shaking. you look up again with scrunched up eyebrows.
“is that what this is?” you ask her, a tear falling from your eye. she cocks her head to the side, waiting for you to explain. “it doesn’t- it doesn’t feel like grief. it feels as if someone is constantly squeezing my heart.” tears are now falling freely down your cheeks. you try to wipe them away but they’re too many. “and the worst part is i don’t want to get over it. i want to keep feeling it, it’s all i have left of her.” dr lopez says your name and you look at her through blurry eyes.
“that’s actually really beautiful. grief is love. it’s all the love we can’t give them.”
“i don’t want it. it shouldn’t- it’s not fair.” you sob.
“it isn’t.” she tells you. “and that’s the thing about grief. you say it shouldn’t be like this but grief fights you and tells you well, it is. that’s why it’s so hard.” you blink, sniffle and shrug.
“i’m still never going to get over it.”
“you probably won’t.” she tells you. you look at her.
“aren’t you supposed to tell me that everything is going to be fine?”
“well, everything is going to be fine. that doesn’t mean that you’ll get over it.” you frown. she smiles softly. “a loss like this one, it’s more like you learn to live with it. you don’t necessarily get over it. but you do feel better, and you find hope.” hope. you found hope already. it was her. the doctor seems to read your mind because she gestures to you with her head. “why don’t you tell me about her?” you look at her and furrow your brows.
“i- she… she was….” you sigh.
“it’s okay, you know what? why don’t i ask you?”
“okay.”
“what was her favorite color?” you smile softly.
“yellow. she said it reminded her of sunflowers, her favorite.” you chuckle.
“what is it?” she asks.
“after i found out i kind of started giving her a sunflower every day… to remind her that- that they were her favorite thing and… and she was mine.” you purse your lips to stop them from quivering. you’re once again on the verge of crying. ugh.
“that’s really romantic.”
“yeah well, we weren’t together at the time i was just obsessed with her.” you laugh through your tears. “after we got together she would always make fun of me for it. but i knew she secretly loved it.” dr lopez smiles.
“and what did you like most about her?”
“oh i- i can’t choose. she was just- perfect. but i think her heart- yeah, her heart was just so good. i don’t think i’ve ever met someone who cared so much about others like her.” you say. then you grin. “she was also terrified of cockroaches. like, she was the most badass person ever but if she saw a cockroach she would lose it.” you laugh and so does the therapist. then, suddenly, you begin sobbing. heart-wrenching sobs escape you as you cover your face with your hands. “i’m so- so sorry.” you tell her. “i just- what i’m feeling i want to tell her. she would be the one to console me and now i need something else to make me feel better because she’s gone. i can’t believe that she- it should’ve been me.” dr lopez says your name firmly.
“she made her choice.”
“no! she was just a better fighter than me! i could’ve been the one to jump and she would still be here.”
“but would you want her to feel the pain you’re feeling now?” you look up at her, shocked. you had never thought of that.
“i- of course not. but i just- she deserved to live a long, beautiful life. she deserved it more than me.”
“i know you feel like that, but that’s not true.” she tells you. “what you truly deserved, both of you, was to live a long, beautiful life together. but because of circumstance, you can’t. but you can still live that life.”
“i don’t want to! i don’t want to live a life without her!”
“then, at least, live it for her.”
you leave the session feeling something strange in your chest. realization perhaps. an epiphany of some sorts. she would want you to live this life fully. even though she’s not here, you know she wouldn’t want to see you broken like you are now. and you think, maybe i’ll do this one last act of love for her.
that night, you have dinner with the rest of the team. wanda is there, and you realize that you haven’t asked her how she is.
“hey, wanda.” you call after her before she leaves. “could i talk to you for a second?”
“yes.” she tells you. you two walk over to the balcony and sit down.
“i never asked you, how are you?” she looks at you with a questioning gaze.
“i’m…” she trails off.
“i’m sorry about vision.” you tell her. she looks at you.
“i’m sorry about natasha.”
“thank you.” you say. for a bit you’re both silent. until you speak up. “i wish there was a way for us to tell them that we won, that it wasn’t for nothing.”
“they know.” she says. you swallow hard and look at her.
“you think so?”
“yeah.” she smiles softly.
“how do you… keep living life?” you ask her. she tilts her head at you. “i mean like… how do you keep going forward without him?”
“vis once told me: what is grief if not love persevering?” you sniffle. wanda looks at you and puts a hand on your shoulder. “he was right. it is.”
“where do you put that love?” you ask her, crying now.
“you keep it inside you, and you use it to never forget them.”
you end up the chat by hugging, where in the middle of it you tell her that you’re grateful to have her as a friend, and she says the same thing.
goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. you were bigger than the whole sky, you were more than just a short time. and i’ve got a lot to pine about, i’ve got a lot to live without, i’m never gonna meet what could’ve been, would’ve been, what should’ve been you
the first time you feel it you’re training with wanda and bucky. wanda makes him fall with his magic and you laugh. for the first time since she’s been gone you laugh an honest laugh. you’ve been going to therapy for a month now and it’s helping. it doesn’t replace her, nothing ever will. but it helps with the anxiety and the soul crushing pain.
you miss her, everyday you miss her more and more. they say that time heals, but as of now, time is making you need her more than ever. still, you laughed.
“that’s not fair, you punk!” bucky yells and wanda laughs.
“it’s called being strategic.” she tells him.
“it’s called cheating.” he tells her matter-of-factly. then he turns to you. “what do you think?”
“um…” you say. he raises his eyebrows. “i think it’s called being strategic.” you shrug.
“you two punks are siding with each other? fine! see if i care.” you and wanda look at each other and you both burst out laughing. shortly after, bucky joins in too. you’re laughing with them, you’re laughing with them and suddenly the world doesn’t seem so heavy on your shoulders. you are still in a lot of pain, you are still mourning, and honestly, you don’t think you will ever stop. but you’re laughing wholeheartedly, and that’s when you feel it. perhaps you will get better. perhaps, you just found hope.