When Natasha opens her eyes, she doesn’t remember what happened for a second. For a blissful moment, she stands alone in a bright field covered in light snow. Here and there, bursts of color as grass and spring blossoms fight bravely for their time in the sun. Vaguely, she remembers similar late winter afternoons from her childhood. Clearer, a brief interlude of happiness and belong in New York. Family.
The breath leaves her lungs as she remembers. Thanos. Vormir. The Stone. Clint. The others. Her family. She closes her eyes, grief like no other coursing through her as she remembers; her fight on the cliff, Clint’s face, the desperate grasp of her fingers… his face right before she closed her eyes one last time. She falls to her knees, pain and sorrow making everything blurry, but most of all fear. She’s alone. She’s all alone. She’d never considered what would happen after, but this… this is not it. This wasn’t supposed to be how it ended.
“Miss Romanova, an honor to meet you,” that voice. Her head snaps up.
“Viz,” she breathes. He floats, a little above ground, probably why she hadn’t heard him approach. His face is the same impassive mask as always, but his eyes are war. There’s a barely there smile on his lips as he looks down at her; something he had learned from them. “I’m… dead, right?”
“I’m afraid so,” he says. His expression turns sad, more human than he was ever capable of being, and offers her a hand as he settles onto the ground. Natasha accepts it, surprised at the warmth, and gets to her feet. “You sacrificed yourself so the others may have a shot. They are grateful.”
She doesn’t want to think about that. Doesn’t want to think about the pain her teammates, her family, must be feeling right now. They’d already lost so much. “where are we?” she asks instead.
“I’m not sure,” he says thoughtfully as he looks around. “This… place. It’s one of your memories, i believe. something you’ve shared. The Infinity Stones are… special, in their own way. They must be earned, though the Soul Stone demands the highest price, the others do the same. I suppose you can call this the in-between.”
“In between?” She asks, her eyes closed. It’s been a long time since she’s been able to just stand and feel the sun on her skin. Though, she’s not sure that’s really the sun or just one of her memories.
“Yes, in-between. A chance to rest, say your final goodbyes; take a breath before the plunge, as it were.” She opens her eyes to catch his smile. “Wait, if the occasion demands it.”
“Wait?” She asks, eyebrows furrowed. “Wait for what?” She’s dead, after all. There is no more to wait for.
“The impossible,” Viz says with that same serene smile. She’s about to ask what the hell he’s talking about when she hears it. Snow, crunching under feet. She whirls around, and for the first time she was a little girl, her emotions overrule her control. She feels her tears burn tracks down her cheeks; hands pressed against her mouth.
No. Not him, a part of her thinks. Not yet.
Of course, him, the other part of her answers sadly. She had known, after all. It’s why she had loved him so fiercely. It was always going to be him.
He looks better than he has been in nearly a decade. His hair the same rich chocolate it had been when that first call to assemble came. Less lines around his mouth and eyes. He stands taller, now; the weight he always seemed to carry around now gone. Even from a distance, his eyes are bright and his smile unmistakable.
“Miss Rushmore,” he calls out, voice jovial. The giggle escapes her mouth unbidden; tears still falling down her eyes. He’s running, she realizes, right at her. She doesn’t think twice before doing the same. Then, he’s there. Arms wrapped right around her; his warmth unmistakable. “Didn’t think I’d let you start the party without me, did you?”
“The others?” she whispers, arms tight around his neck.
“Safe,” he presses a kiss on her forehead, arms tightening. “Thanks to you. It’s all thanks to you. Thank you. Nat, thank you for them. Thank you for my children.”
And this, right here. This is it. The read all wiped off her ledger. She left better memories now, she thinks. Tony is saying so. No more red staining everything. Something else. Yellow, maybe, she thinks as she feels the soft sunlight. Hope. Green, perhaps, as she looks down at the little tufts of grass. Growth. Rest, after a long hard storm.
“And you,” she tells him and feels the tears on her neck where he’s buried his head. “You did it, Tony. They are safe because of you. They will know. Your children will know how much loved them. Harley, Peter… They’ll tell her, and she’ll know too. She’ll feel it every day.”
They stay there for a long time, arms tight around one another. But that’s okay, now. Viz had said so. They could take as long as they need. Tony doesn’t let go, and she has no intention of doing anything of the sort either. They haven’t taken a breath for years, it feels like. Both of them had given everything for their team, their family, and they wouldn’t regret it for a second.
Still, it had been tiring. It had taken its toll. Now, there was this. She was finished, her sins wiped clean; she had had a purpose, far more beautiful than she ever thought, and that was enough.
and this too, she reminded herself. This brother who had loved her so infinitely even in the worst of times. Now he was safe, too, and she will keep him that way.
Figures, even after, she’ll look after him. She knew the type of trouble Tony Stark could find.