Natasha
Natasha hangs up and swears viciously under her breath. She’s going to find Thanos and rip his fucking balls off, because fuck. She’s not equipped to take care of a kid! She’s fun Auntie Nat, not a mother! But Lila needs her. Clint and Laura’s daughter needs her, and Natasha refuses to abandon her, refuses to abandon any child, ever again. Never again. God, Lila must be terrified. She’d sounded distant on the phone, but Nat suspects that the shock will wear off soon, and she needs to be there when it happens, so that Lila has support to fall on. She stashes the phone in it’s pocket and starts to walk, away from the Wakandan city, away from the cleanup and the job Steve had undoubtably assigned her. She can’t bring herself to care about and of it, not when her brain is humming a chant of Lila, Lila, Lila, Lila, over and over, the anxiety burning a hole in her chest. Focus Tasha, she tells herself. Get to the jet. She’s almost there when she hears Steve call out to her.
“Nat! Where’re you going?”
“The jet, Steve, where do I look like I’m going?” Natasha snaps, too focused on getting to Lila to bother playing nice.
Steve shakes his head. “No, you’re supposed to go to the palace, we’re figuring out how best to divide up telling everyone about…y’know. Thanos.” She ignores him and walks up to the Quinjet, punching in the codes.
“Sorry, Steve, you’ll have to do this one without me.”
“Seriously, Nat? Look, I know you’re a spy, and this probably isn’t your thing, but we’re all the world has right now, you can’t just run off.” He’s staring to get his ‘dissapointed father’ voice, so she sighs and turns around.
“Lila called. Clint’s gone, Steve. They all are. She’s all alone, and she’s scared, and I’m all she has left, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to go be with her.” She waits as the words register, and his face pales.
“Fuck. All of them?”
Natasha nods. Steve pauses, then reaches out and squeezes her shoulder. His eyes are full of sympathy and pain.
“Go, of course you should go, Nat. We’ll get someone else to cover for you. Go be with her. We’ll meet up later, once we… once we figure out who’s left.”
Now Natasha squeezes his shoulder, because if she’s hurting, then she has no idea how he must feel. To lose Bucky again, after just getting him back… She can’t imagine how he feels. Yelena. She shoves the thought down. She can’t afford distractions, not now.
“I’m taking her to the compound. See you there?”
He nods, turns around, and walks away, back to the chaos she’s leaving behind. Natasha spares a moment to watch him limp across the field, and then she walks inside the Quinjet.
Once she’s safely in the air, autopilot en route to the Barton farm, she lets herself worry. She has no clue how to care for Lila. Yes, she knows how to literally care for her, food, water, etc, but that’s about it. Thankfully, Lila is a teenager, which seems suprising to say, but to her practical mind, it’s true. Lila can feed and wash herself, and she seems generally independent. Still, she’ll definitely need some sort of guidance, and probably therapy, too-. God, she is so not ready for this.
Natasha slides down to the floor and lets out a muffled sob. She squeezes her eyes shut and presses her forehead against her knees.
God, Clint. How did I let this happen? Why couldn’t I save him? Why couldn’t I save anyone? Clint is gone, Lila’s alone, how did I let this happen?
-And after the summer, Lila’ll need school, and school means more guidance, and homework help, and drama and issues and teenage angst and she can’t do this, she’s not prepared to be a traumatized teen’s emotional support, she can’t she can’tshecan’t-
God, Clint, and Bucky, and Wanda, and how many more? How many dead? Thanos said half the universe would die. We killed half the universe.
-and what if they don’t come back, what if none of them do, and they’re gone forever and you’re a shit guardian and what if she blames you-
She should blame you. You failed. The whole world should blame you. Fuck, Clint is gone.
Natasha doesn’t know long she sits there, silently crying on the floor of the jet. She makes no sound, barely even moves, but there are tears pouring down her face. Tears, made up of all her grief, fear, anger, sadness, worry, everything she’s been shoving down.
She cries for Clint, for Laura, and for the kids.
She cries for Steve, who got his Bucky back, only to have his crumble to dust.
She cries for Wanda and Vision, who should have been off in some remote town, who are dead.
She cries for Thor, who lost his father, his brother, his home.
She cries for the civilians they were supposed to protect.
She cries for the people they’ve lost.
She cries for herself.
Eventually, she stops crying and starts to reassemble herself. Lila needs her, and she’ll do no good to anyone like this.
Come on, Tahsa. One thing at a time. We’ll get them back, and everything will be fine. This is just for a little while. Deep breaths. Get to her, get your things, get to the compound. Everything else can wait until later. Compartmentalize, Tasha. Focus.
Slowly, her breathing evens out, and she opens her eyes to the cold interior of the jet. She shivers, and then raises the temperature.
One thing at a time.
Slowly, she stands up and walks back over to the pilot’s seat. Through the window, she can see nothing but water. She checks the time. It’s been two hours. Had she really been sitting there that long?
She checks the monitor. She still has about six hours of flight time. She glances at her hands, streaked with blood and dirt.
One thing at a time.
She uses the detox spray to try and wash the grime off her suit, but it’s probably ruined. Stupid alien guts. Her hands are still dirty.
One thing at a time.
She washes them in the tiny sink they have onboard. She watches the blood and dust swirl down the drain, and keeps scrubbing. The blood under her fingernails won’t come out.
Sighing, she combs a hand through the white-blonde of her hair. She misses the red already. Maybe she’ll grow it out again. He stomach growls.
One thing at a time.
Natasha grabs a protein bar, drinks some water, and waits.