Soulmates

Outside the air was crisp, the streets were crowded and a million cars lined the sidewalk. Several sirens could be heard in the distance as they rounded the corner of 59th hand in hand.

Natasha closed her eyes, breathing in deeply as they entered the park. Clint watched her closely, the corners of his mouth tugging up as she wrinkled her nose against the sunlight on her face and filled her lungs with a full blown smile on her face.

The hustle and bustle was just as dense inside the gates as it had been outside, with joggers, dog walkers, cyclists and families with children zooming by, but the two barely noticed the afternoon rush even as their senses registered every detail unconsciously.

“We’re a long way from Vormir,” Natasha quipped, glancing at him through the side of her gaze.

He grinned, his fingers slipping from hers only so he could drape his arm loosely around her shoulders, drawing her in close in familiar camaraderie.

They began a leisurely pace as they strolled forward, her eyes darting everywhere and taking it all in for the first time since they’d stepped out of his apartment.

“This is it,” she mused quietly. “We really did it.”

“Yeah.” Clint nodded. “Yeah, we did.”

“Now tell me the ugly parts.” Her voice was steady, her gaze unwavering and Clint’s eyes tilted towards hers as they continued their stroll.

“Well, for some there’s the waking up and finding your apartment rented to someone else that you keep hearing about on the news.”

She was silent, still watching his face.

“Then, there’s the ones who come back to find that their spouse has moved on over the past five years they were gone. The unemployment rate has risen substantially. Parents are having to explain the impossible to children who are incapable of understanding, when they really don’t understand it themselves.”

Natasha frowned, her eyes taking on the demeanor of someone who was lost in thought, but Clint knew he had her undivided attention as he spoke carefully.

“And then something amazing happened.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide as she contemplated. “What’s that?”

“People started coming together. Helping strangers as if they were family. Creating second chances for each other, taking the world back into their hands.”

She held onto him a little tighter.

He leaned his head down, pressing a kiss into her hairline. “What was it like for you? Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugged. “I did what I had to do. There was only one way, and I needed-“ She swallowed hard. “I needed to protect you.”

He nodded, his mouth set in a line, his other hand reaching for her hand that was on his waist. “Were you scared?” He whispered.

“I—I was scared of the plan not working. And scared for you,” she added quietly.

“Nat…”

“But the fall happened quickly. And then, nothing. Then I woke up in your arms and…. everything.”

He reached out to smooth her hair back, his thumb brushing against her temple.

She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. “Clint?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do I have a scar?”

“C’mere,” he said, sliding his arms from across her shoulders up to her head. “Let me see.”

She lowered her head as both his hands sifted through her hair. “No scar,” he murmured, his fingers gently massaging her scalp. “Does it hurt?”

She shook her head.

“The health stone did its job,” he said. “Do you feel okay otherwise?”

She turned to him, wrapping her arms fully around his waist and leaning her head against his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and back, tightly securing her against his body. “It’s okay, Tasha.” Most of the time, he knew it was sufficient to just embrace her silently when she reached for him, but now he kept repeating those words close to her ear.

“My other scars are still there,” she told him.

“You’re still you,” he murmured, his fingers lightly stroking the ends of her hair as he held her.

“Yeah,” she said absently.

She tilted her head to look up at him. “Did it hurt when you tore yourself in half?”

“Not as much as the alternative.”

Her eyes grew wider as she studied his face.

“Actually, that was the easy part,” he told her truthfully. “The hard part was the year I had to spend without you here, wondering every day if it was really possible to get you back. God, I just wanted to get you back, Tash.”

She smiled, although it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Guess I still owe you a debt.”

“No,” he said gruffly. “You don’t owe me a damned thing.”

She lowered her head into his chest again, settling back into his embrace as she took in the feel of the wind in her hair, his breath on her face and his heart beating against her cheek. This time he seemed to understand that she just needed him to hold her quietly and she sighed into him.

The park came alive around them. Squirrels scurried, children played, dogs barked, joggers ran past them, couples made out in hidden corners, teenagers played football, elderly folk strolled slowly, kicking the leaves on the concrete and Clint held Natasha quietly in his arms.

XXXXX

“Can we go get some coffee?” She asked after awhile. They had started moving again, slowly walking arm in arm towards 74th street.

“Absolutely,” he agreed. “Usual place?”

She nodded and they took their leave through the fifth avenue exit.

The tiny café was fairly crowded when they approached, but they still managed to find a table towards the back.

They ordered their usual drinks- Natasha’s black and Clint’s with skim milk and two sugars.

She asked him about what he was up to over the past year other than looking for a way to bring her back and he told her about the few adventures he’d had in as much detail as he could recall.

She laughed at him when he was being silly, gave him her two sense on what she would’ve done differently even though he swore he already knew.

At one point, he reached across the table to take her hand and she let him squeeze her fingers inside his. This was easy. This was familiar and safe.

She thoughtfully chewed on the crust of her sandwich, wiped the crumbs from her mouth with a napkin in her free hand. She could tell that a few people in the café had recognized them, but thankfully no one approached.

As the place thinned out, she leaned across the table, wanting to finally ask him something that had been weighing heavily on her mind.

“What about him?” She asked quietly, her face solemn. “Did anybody try to bring him back?”

His expression was grave as he answered, “of course we did.”

Her throat grew tight and she urged him with her eyes to elaborate.

“His body was beyond repair,” Clint explained with tears in his eyes. “Strange says the health stone would not have worked for him, even if we did duplicate it. Believe me, we all tried to come up with some way, any way…..”

She took in a shaky breath, a single tear spilling down her cheek. “I know,” she whispered. She squeezed his fingers tightly. “It’s just not fair.”

“No, it’s not,” Clint agreed.

She rested her chin in her hand, closed her eyes for a moment as she thought of their dear friend.

“Pepper’s rebuilding the compound,” he told her after awhile. “She’s putting everything back exactly as it was.”

She sniffled, wiping at her nose with the napkin. “How am I going to do this?” She wondered out loud, a few more tears escaping.

“With us,” he said gently.

She nodded, swallowing hard past the lump in her throat.

“Speaking of Pepper, she wants to come by the tower on Tuesday to see you. Said she’ll bring their daughter.”

“Okay.”

“She’s a cute kid. Gets along really well with Nate, even though she’s technically a year and a half older now, I guess.”

Natasha smiled softly at the idea of the Avenger’s children playing together.

“Come on,” Clint said, giving her hand a little tug. “Let’s head back to my place and do something dumb. Watch a funny movie or something.”

“Sounds good,” she agreed, straightening up as he motioned for the check.

“No way,” the chubby owner of the café said as he came over to their table. “Your money’s no good here, Mr. Hawkeye.”

He nodded to Natasha, offering a polite smile. “Ms. Widow.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said softly, her cheeks raising in a dazzling smile as an old habit took over.

Clint shook his head once the owner had left them. “I’ll never get used to that.”