AN:Written for the Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2019. Inspired by canarysarrow's video Clintasha-Hesitate on youtube. Beta'd by ohstars. All remaining mistakes are my own.

Timeline my own guesses, quotes based off New King James Version of 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 and John 15:13; title from The Princess Bride.

I once read the definition of true love. It said, "Love suffers long."

Late 2004

Clint Barton was a marksman and sniper- the best there was and that was before he started bragging. He was one of the best at extraction and protection SHIELD had to offer.

Fury called him in to debrief.

"Natalia Romanova," Agent Coulson said, dropping a folder in front of him, "aka the Black Widow. One of the most effective spies and assassins SHIELD has ever seen."

"All due respect, sirs, I'm a marksman, not a spy," Clint said, looking over the dossier. "Why would you choose me for this assignment?"

Fury replied, "Six months ago Ms. Romanova was the bodyguard of a scientist working on 'improving' the dispersion of mustard gas, hired by one of the most well-funded underground organisations in Europe. Six different agencies attempted to kidnap the scientist and use her work- that we know of. Ms. Romanova infiltrated 4 of those groups and destroyed them from within. She single-handedly stopped 2 others as they attacked- including one of our own strike teams. And the others weren't your average street thugs I'm talking about. They were mercenaries from some of the most terrifying agencies and organisations around. She is extraordinarily dangerous and extremely competent at subterfuge."

Coulson dropped another folder in front of him.

"Three months ago, a counter agency hired Romanova to kill that same scientist. She was dead in 2 days. She'll take any job from anyone, regardless of their agenda. Someone like that is a danger to SHIELD and to the world. Your job is to eradicate that danger."

"You asked why we chose you," Fury explained, "Because no one else has been able to even get close to her. So, we'll send someone who doesn't need to get close to eliminate a threat."

He spent 4 months tailing Romanova. In that time, he learned that she was everything SHIELD claimed she was and more. She was ruthless. Competent. Used people's perceptions of her to her advantage. She was petite and beautiful and used both of those facts as weapons and covers. He understood why he'd been warned not to underestimate her. He saw her switch sides so many times it would make Jack Sparrow dizzy. And she was one of the most terrifying people he'd ever seen.

A few times he suspected she was onto him, and one night, when she left a note to back off in his hotel room wrapped around an efficiently thrown knife, he was sure of it.

But he had a job to finish, and it didn't include being scared off by his target.

Finally, he got a lead that she had a job in South America taking out the accountant of a terrorist group operating out of the jungle. And now, after months of recon, he had the Black Widow in his sights.

Love is kind

Early 2005

Laura, saint that she was, was the first to get her to speak after he brought her home. She came in the room unannounced, and rather than flinch at the weapon pointed at her head, she offered her breakfast.

Natalia was wary, obviously unused to living anywhere around people who wouldn't turn on her for the right price.

"I made eggs, bacon, pancakes and hash browns. Would you like toast or biscuits?"

Natalia kept her gun held high for a minute more, assessing, before she deemed the question sincere.

"Toast." She lowered the gun but didn't put it away. "Please," she added as an afterthought.

The three of them sat around the table awkwardly, Laura casting questioning looks toward Clint, but trusting him nonetheless when he brought notorious beautiful assassins to their secret home.

Natalia stared at them as they began eating, before a change came over her and she took command of her space as he'd watched her do only from afar. Clint had observed her long enough to know she had just immersed herself in her own cover, pulling confidence and charm around herself like the mask he knew it to be.

"So, Laura. How long have you and Clint been together?" she asked casually.

"Got married a year and a half ago," Clint grunted at her.

"Newlyweds. Sweet," she continued with a grin. "How did you two meet?"

"I'd rather you answer that question first," challenged Laura, meeting Natalia's eyes. Not a threat, just a reminder.

Clint smirked at his wife, then met their guest's eyes when she looked up. She assessed Laura once more, then continued eating, her eyes lowered and her body language penitent, letting Laura lead the small talk and answering each casual question so convincingly he almost believed some of what she said was true.

She continued the meek act all through breakfast, interrogating Laura so subtly Clint almost didn't notice. When he realised how thoroughly she was trying to play his wife, he nonchalantly picked up a pen from the desk behind them and threw it right past her to flip on the switch for the fan, effectively reminding her who exactly she was trying to con.

The narrowed-eyed look she gave him let him know she understood the message loud and clear.

"You can stay here until that leg is healed up," he offered, "then I'll present your case to SHIELD."

"If they don't accept me… will you finish the job?" she asked. Not scared- resigned, and both Clint and Laura knew, ready to fight back if it came to that.

He stared at her, meeting her eyes as she awaited his answer.

"They will," he replied firmly, giving his wife reassurance whilst pointedly not answering the Black Widow's question.

Love does not envy

2008

Natasha rose through the ranks far quicker than Clint ever had, and Fury, who only ever tolerated Hill and Coulson, took a special shine to Natasha and she to him. To say they trusted one another might be pushing it, but there was a mutual respect for abilities.

"I really think this one's got what it takes," Coulson confides to Clint one day as they both watched the monitor as she charmed her way past three guards and took down 4 more on one of her SHIELD trial runs through a "secure" building in Switzerland.

"So do I," Clint responds, a sense of pride running through him as he watched his now-teammate wrap her thighs around another guards neck, directing his body to the retinal scanner to open the vault.

"The only question is, can we trust her?" Agent Rumlow enquires.

"In this business?" he raises an eyebrow at him. "I think the real question is are we an agency worth fighting for? Sir," Clint amended as he addressed Coulson.

They watched as Natasha walked casually out of the building with a limp and a wig, disguising the terrifying woman who single-handedly obliterated each of the building's "security measures" and (therefore the security company's reassurances) as an old grandmother with a disability in her advanced age.

"Agent Romanoff," Coulson congratulated when she made it back to base. "Yet another successful mission. It seems Agent Barton was right to put his faith in you. You have earned this agency's trust," he continued as Director Fury came in. She shook their hands a little while later, her brand-new position meaning she reported to Fury directly.

"Oh, and Agent Coulson. I got something for you as thank you from the bank manager," she said with a teasing smile, holding it up.

"Slight foxing around the edges. But it's near mint," she explained as she handed him a Captain America trading card. He took it reverently, holding it by the edges between his fingers. He lost his composure for just a moment, then straightened up.

"Thank you. Natasha," he said sincerely as Clint walked up to her.

She gave him a nod and a small smile, one Clint recognised as her real smile, before he led her away, happy she had started making friends.

"Come on. The Director just gave us a new mission. We have to pack; we'll be gone for a few weeks."

"What's the mission?" she asked.

"Trouble in Budapest."

Love does not boast, it is not proud

Early 2005

"I wondered if you were ever coming closer," she told him as she lay hurt on the ground while he cuffed her and carefully shackled her legs. He still hadn't decided what to do with her. He had a job to finish, but today made him question that job.

She didn't waver when she realised he had bested her, didn't beg or cry. There was no fear in her eyes. Or anger. Just acceptance.

"Hmm," he mused at her. "This is usually when the bad guys like to wax poetic about their cause, how they won ideologically, or how I should let them go and they would fulfil my wildest dreams." He may have done this far too many times.

"The bad guys. Is that what I am? I never thought about it before. How would I know?" She asked, looking at all the bodies around them. All he thought at that moment was how young she looked.

"Well… I guess that depends on who you ask," he responded, also looking at the deceased around them and feeling nothing particular over the deaths of those mercenaries.

"So, I guess you're bringing me into your SHIELD then," she stated, looking down at her bound hands and feet.

"My orders were to eliminate the threat you pose to SHIELD," he explains after a couple of moments' thought. "So, here are your options: I finish the job right here, right now. Or you cease being a threat."

She quirked an eyebrow. "You really believe anything I say to you will convince you I'm not a threat?"

"Yes," he responded easily. "Come work for us."

"At SHIELD? Why would I want to do that?" she said with a grunt as her injured leg spasmed.

"Because I think you want to know which side you're fighting for."

"And you're telling me you're the "good guys?""

"I'm saying I don't have to ask myself that question," he quipped back.

She looked away for a just a hint of a moment, and he knew he had her.

"You really think they'll just let me in?" she asked.

"I'll convince them. But you have to want it."

She looked around again. At the bodies from both sides, carelessly left. More people would be coming soon. And they wouldn't be as nice with their offers. If SHIELD got there before he had a chance to approach them, it would all be over.

He reached out his hand. She took it with her cuffed one, and he lifted her up carefully.

"Come on," he said. "I got somewhere we can go while they figure out who's who. And find out that my mission was a bust."

"Was it?" she asked as she hobbled away from her past.

"We'll see," he offered, keeping her steady by grabbing her hand. "Don't worry, I won't let you go," he told her they walked off together. "It'll be okay."

Love does not behave rudely

2009

A mission went south, requiring Natasha to play a whimpering hostage briefly and then getting shot by a stray bullet as she held off all the other goons while Clint got the actual hostages to safety.

Clint was now putting pressure on her wound.

"Hey Tasha, you got a little shot there," Clint quipped, holding her lifeblood in as they waited for backup.

"I was curious to see what it was like to be you," she responded, eyes barely staying open as she tried to remain conscious.

"Haha," he teased her, worried about how bad the wound looked this time. "Well, how do you feel now you're like me?"

"Uglier."

He snorted at that, relieved and pretty sure she was going to be fine. He lifted her upper body into his lap, using both hands to continue applying pressure.

"So," she started with a slight slur, "Lilac? Like the flower? I don't think you should name little Natasha Lilac. Ends in a C. Confusing," she continued determinedly, putting her hand over his in her own gesture of reassurance.

"Nice try. Lila. After Laura's aunt. She believed in us even when no one else did."

"So little Natasha is just going to go by Lila forever?"

"We'll name the next one Natasha. Promise," he chuckled at her attempts to roll her eyes.

"Laura doesn't want to be outnumbered. She said this is the last one. You're trying to cheat, Barton."

"Nah. I want a little tie-breaker. I think three is just right," he responded conversationally, not really caring what he was saying as long as Natasha didn't say she felt any worse- he and Laura hadn't actually talked about any more after this one. "Besides, what kind of kid would little Natasha be if she just did what she was supposed to, hmm?"

Natasha huffed out a breathy laugh.

"How much longer?" she asked him.

"Exfil in 2 hours," he said. "Go ahead and sleep, I won't let up. But if I think you get worse, I'm pinching you," he warned.

"No blackmail photos of me being a damsel in distress now," she said, snuggling into his lap as she purposefully closed her eyes.

"You? A damsel? The thought hadn't crossed my mind."

"Good."

"It has now."

"Clint!" she warned as he cackled, staying steady until their ride came, even when his arms grew tired, and he felt he might never pick up a bow again.

Love is not self-seeking

2006

He walked beside her down the corridor. He sat with her at mealtimes. He invited her over to his quarters after training. He volunteered to be her sparring partner every time everyone but Morse or Rumlow refused to fight her.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked him every day as more agents turned against him for trusting her. Let it never be said a professional super spy agency wasn't full of high school drama.

"I think everyone deserves a second chance."

"That philosophy will be the death of you someday."

"Well… Not today."

"You don't have to be my friend."

"Course not, Tali. But Laura keeps telling me I need more friends than just her."

She looked at him, then continued walking down the corridor.

"The more informal version of my name is Natasha. English does diminutives differently."

"Natasha Romanova. Okay. Tasha."

The corner of her mouth turns up, just a bit, at the name no one had ever bothered calling her before, before the emotions get too intense for her.

"I think Agent Morse has a crush on you."

"Bobbi? That's ridiculous."

"See, I lied the first time. She definitely has a crush on you."

"How do you know?"

"She told me."

"Well… that could get awkward."

"You could always tell her you have a girlfriend."

"I don't have a girlfriend."

"Hmm. Maybe we should set her up with someone else," she nodded to herself, beginning to go through a list of viable candidates in her head.

"You can't just play matchmaker with agents like we're your toy dolls, you know."

"We're also going to find you more friends," she called as she started walking away.

"Aren't you my friend?"

"Only out of pity."

"I don't pity you."

"I meant me. I feel bad you don't have any friends."

"I have 2! How many friends am I supposed to have?!" he called after her.

"At least 6! Don't worry, I'll find you some and set up a playdate."

Which is how he found himself sitting on the floor of a conference room with Coulson and Natasha for 4 hours, learning all about Norse mythology and a WWII soldier who had died 60 years ago.

Love is not easily angered

Early 2005

The time he actually caught Natalia Romanova, she and a few mercenaries had been hired to take out an accountant terrorist organisation who was well-protected by the organisation he helped to fund. Since his assignment of "eliminating the threat" posed by Black Widow coincided with also stopping said man, who was of interest to SHIELD, Clint was double tasked to bring in said accountant alive while removing all threats surrounding him.

What should have been a simple extraction ended up in a firefight down a mostly- deserted street. There was a young boy who had been playing on the street who didn't run when his friends did who was crouched down low to the ground as he wailed helplessly. Clint tried to take out all threats to the child he could, but he couldn't get close enough to him to get him out of the way of danger. The accountant he was sent for was a coward and a bad shot, panicking and endangering both sides as he picked up a gun he didn't know how to handle. Clint rolled his eyes as he tried even harder to reach both his target and the kid.

Finally, Clint gave up on the guns and pulled out his bow. He eliminated most threats to his mission except for Natalia, who had herself eliminated the rest of her target's guards. He watched as the man turned his gun toward her, and he saw her look toward the boy still wailing between them, her look calculating and her weapon drawn. Clint didn't even think, letting an arrow fly toward her as she dove at the kid, twisting at the last second.

She rolled and stood up in front of the boy as the accountant Clint had been sent for clumsily shot everywhere, before she took aim and fired back at him. His body hit the ground instantly. She watched as a woman ran out and grabbed the screeching boy, fleeing down the street with her child. Then, when it was just the two of them, she turned toward Clint, stumbling a little with the arrow sticking out of her thigh.

Clint glanced at the man he'd been sent to extract, keeping his own handgun pointed at her.

"You lived last time. Probably make it this time as well," he said conversationally. She stared at him before reaching down and breaking the arrow in half, tossing part not in her.

Clint approached with both hands up, looking toward her leg.

"That needs immediate treatment. I know a lot about arrow wounds, if you let me get closer."

"I've killed a lot more for a lot less," she warned, gun at the ready.

"Yeah, but you stood in front of the kid. You're not what they think you are. I don't think you're even what you think you are."

"You were sent to kill me."

"You're not dead yet. And I've seen you fight. Trust me, if I were going to kill ya, hand to hand combat against you would not be my first choice."

She let him get near her, her gun at her side but never any less threatening.

"I'm Clint, by the way," he said as he pulled the rest of the arrow free.

She hissed as she grabbed his shoulder by reflex and squeezed, determined not to show any more weakness by doing something so vulnerable as sitting down.

"Natalia," she finally relented when he used his own shirt to dress the wound, very noticeably helping her rather than using his victory to his advantage.

Love keeps no records of wrongs

2009

"Great," Natasha groaned when she woke up, "now that's three I owe you," she lamented to Clint, who was by her bedside.

"I'm not keeping some sort of count, Tash," he said, holding her head up as he held a straw to her lips.

"I am. I got red in my ledger, and I got to wipe it out."

"Not with me."

"You're a sentimentalist."

"No, I'm a Methodist," he said.

"Clint," she warned.

"Natasha," he said back to her.

She grabbed his chin, turning him to face her.

"I wasn't a person, before. I was a monster. I was… a creature forged by the Red Room. I did… the most horrible things."

"But that's not who you are, Tasha. That's never what I saw."

"I know. But I took so much from this world. I have to make amends, Clint. I have to."

He took in a deep breath, putting their foreheads together.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

"Well," she smiled at him. "I learned from the best."

"Drink some more water. Need to get you back on your feet so you can finish setting Coulson up with that cellist you met."

"That, and I have to help Laura keep you away from having anything to do with decorating little Lila's room."

"What's wrong with that purple?"

"She's not even born yet, Clint. She hasn't done anything horrible enough to deserve that!"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at her playfully as he brought over the disgusting meal that had been prepared for her.

"For what it's worth, Natasha- I know all the stuff you've done. You're still my best friend."

She looked up at him, feelings and painkillers making her eyes water.

"Well, I'm your only friend besides Coulson. You don't know any better."

He laughed softly, letting her take the out.

"That's probably it."

Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth

2013

"Hey Clint, how long after Loki did it take for the nightmares to go away?" Natasha asked while they were at the shooting range. She emptied another clip, then turned and fired at the holographic droid coming at her.

"Never said they did. What's this about, Tasha?" Clint asked as he nocked another arrow, taking aim at the Kraken Tony had devised.

"Bruce. He feels… responsible. Every time. And he shouldn't," she defended casually. Too casually.

"Hmm. You can't just talk someone out of guilt, Tasha," Clint said, fighting hand to… tentacle.

"We'll see," she said, shooting an oddly Arnold Schwarzenegger-shaped hologram. They worked in tandem, helping each other take out their respective artificial opponents, reading each other's next move without too much effort. Soon, there were pieces of imitation metal limbs and phony Kraken guts all around them.

"What exactly are we seein'?" he asked as they turned the simulation off.

"Bruce thinks the Other Guy is just rage," she replied, coolly enough he knew she was still nervous about when she had first met the Hulk in the Helicarrier. "Tony thinks he's a hero. I think if there was some kind of balance, Bruce might feel safer around us."

"You lookin' for the man beneath the monster?" he inquires with a scoff.

"You did," she challenged.

"You weren't a monster, Nat," he reminded yet again, a very old argument between them.

"Well, you and I see things differently. But I don't think the Other Guy is either. Not how Banner believes. If he was, he wouldn't have fought with us. Or saved Tony. Or come from Bruce."

"You want to tame the Hulk?" he clarifies, as they walk into the training room where other agents are sparring. "Just to spare Banner's feelings?"

She thinks for a minute how to answer him, both of them facing each other as they prepared to face off with each other.

"You and I both know what it feels like to lose control of your mind. To know not even your body belongs to you. I want Bruce to feel… like he can always come back when he goes away."

"You know, Tony's working on something that can defeat the Hulk," Clint informs as he dodges her punch.

"Tony will probably be one of the reasons the Hulk would need to be defeated," she responds, sweeping his feet out from under him.

"Very true. So, what were you thinking to change the Beast back into a Beauty?" he grunts, pinning her arms down and dodging her head-butt, before she gets enough leverage to roll them, using her arm to cut off his air.

She smiles slyly at him, letting him up as he taps out. "Why, a song of course."

It takes far too many sessions for Clint's comfort and every Avenger at the ready again and again and again for Hulk to take orders from Steve during training and for Natasha to get close enough to him for a chat, but eventually, the monster with a child's temper tantrum becomes a veritable and reliable part of their team. Clint smiles proudly at Natasha as she runs her fingers through a peacefully sleeping-Bruce's hair.

Love bears all things

2005

"You really think she can come to our side?" Coulson asked as Barton gave his report on what was transpiring with the Black Widow mission.

"I do, sir."

"This goes wrong, it's on you, Barton," Fury warned.

"Understood."

"Then I'm willing to take a chance," he continued.

"You won't regret it, Sir."

"Let's hope not."

"Just be careful, Agent Barton," Coulson warned. "You don't know who she really is, or what she is truly capable of."

"All due respect sir, neither does she. I don't think she has anything to fight for. She just knows how to fight," he argued, his months of recon his own reassurance.

"And you intend to show her?" Fury asked in his this could become dangerous very quickly voice.

"I intend to give her the chance to show herself. I've proven I can neutralize her if needed, but I think given the opportunity, she can be one of the greatest agents we've ever seen."

Director Fury and Agent Coulson exchange a look.

"And you will be willing to stop her, if it comes to that?"

He takes a moment to consider, before realising he didn't need to.

"I'll do whatever it takes, Sir."

"Friendship is weakness in this business," Fury reminded him, not for the first time.

"All due respect sir, it's also a strength," he looked at Coulson, who had given an angry circus freak a second chance and a chance at a life when everyone else would have killed him or discarded him.

"Go ahead and bring her in," Fury relented at Coulson's silent acquiescence. "We'll see if she has what it takes to be a member of SHIELD."

Love believes all things

2013

"Do you love Clint?" Steve asked, curious as he watched her absently caress her arrow necklace- the only sentiment he'd ever noticed her openly wear.

"Clint? He's my best friend," she smiled softly, the caress now a purposeful reminder.

"You mean as far as friends can be in this business?" Steve jabbed lightly.

"No," she responded with a reflexive smile.

"You ever tell him?"

"Not with words," she responded.

"Don't like the mushy stuff?"

"Words are my job. Even actions… No, I've never told him. But he knows. He's always known."

"How can you be sure?"

She looks at him then, searching.

"Did you love Peggy? Did Bucky know he was your best friend? Big on talking through stuff then, were you Rogers?" she teases, already knowing the answer.

"Point." He sighed. "Bucky… he was everything when I had nothing. Stayed by my side through thick and thin, always running into whatever fight I asked him to. And Peggy- she saw me when no one else did. She really saw me. And I saw her." He turned pensive, reflecting on times long passed.

Natasha thought for a moment, then pulled him out of his own head. "Clint saw me when I didn't see myself. He didn't ask me for anything. Just gave and gave and gave until I would have destroyed him. Until I realised I didn't want to. It's not… Clint's never asked anything I couldn't give him or for me to be anyone but myself. Whoever I happened to be at that moment. We understand each other deeper than anyone else. What is that called?" she prompted.

"A best friend," he finally agreed with a nod and a wistful smile.

Love hopes all things

2018

"What do you want, Tash?"

"I want to stop you before you go too far."

"I've lost them, Natasha. There is no too far."

"All of them?" she asked, horror and compassion in her eyes.

"The kids. Laura. My entire family, gone in a snap. And I let it happen."

"No, you can't do that, Clint. We tried to stop it. All of us. He would have won either way, there was nothing we could do."

"I didn't try. Didn't even know what was happening. Just knew I didn't want to be arrested."

"They would have kept them away from you sooner. You did the right thing."

Clint looked down, anger and grief in every bone in his body.

"The right thing lost me everything."

Natasha grabs him, at a loss for words, and holds him tightly until he cries himself to sleep. He's gone when she wakes up the next day.

Love endures all things

2007

"You really don't want me to do that." Natasha said, backing away from Clint's outstretched arms.

"It's just a baby, Natasha. You won't break him," Clint reassured with a cackle, holding his new-born son out to her again.

"You can't know that," said one of the most competent spies, grifters, fighters, and women in the world.

Laura joined in on the laughter after seeing the terror on the face of the woman who had single-handedly destroyed whole organisations with her various abilities.

Clint finally backed her into a corner, fighting dirty and using his baby as a shield against any countermeasures she could have taken. He reached out and grabbed her arm. When all he did was pull her to a chair, she relaxed slightly, until she realised he was now grabbing her other arm, and placing both under the body of the tiny, fragile creature Laura had just finished creating.

"I know that Cooper needs to know his Auntie Nat."

Natasha looked down at the tiny person and thought she could now claim a firm belief in love at first sight.

She smiled unabashedly and moved gently, trying not to disturb the baby's sleep.

Clint kissed her forehead as he fell in love with his son again and again and again.

"You did good, Clint," Tasha said when Clint gave the baby back to Laura.

"Yeah, I did," said the proud father. Then he looked up at her after sharing a look with his wife.

"Umm, we were wondering if you'd consider being godmother?" he asked.

Natasha blinked, taken aback.

"You know, if something ever happened to both of us…"

She cleared her throat, then looked at the baby in Laura's arms.

"Yes," she said immediately at the sight of Clint's son. "Absolutely."

Clint and Laura smiled, before Clint held a box out to her.

"What's this?"

"I'll be gone on paternity for the next couple of months. A long-term mission, officially. This is… so you don't forget, when you're on your own solo missions."

"Forget what?" she asked as she lifted the lid to the box.

"That I'll still have your back. Always."

She pulled out the necklace, tracing the arrow with reverence, before she looked at her adopted family.

"Thank you," she whispered sincerely, letting Clint close enough to work the clasp on the necklace.

Laura and Clint smiled at her, then looked down at their fidgeting son. She closed the door behind her, once more caressing her necklace with a smile on her face.

Love never fails

2018

"We're going to fix this, Clint. I'm going to get your family back. Whatever it takes."

She coordinated with the remaining Avengers.

Set up a mission base.

Helped set up a census.

Leaders of whatever ragtag governments all contacted her for guidance and help.

Her pride and heart were hurt when they lost to Thanos. She had to make it right. For all those billions of people who were gone forever.

For those teammates she had fought beside, had cried with, and had survived with.

And for 4 special people she didn't know she could live without. And one who blamed himself for surviving.

Steve said they had to move on. She tried to convince herself the world needed the work she was doing. It was important, she knew that, but she also knew without it, she'd never be able to give Clint hope again. Give herself hope again. She was going to work through all the tears and sleepless nights. She was going to hold the world together with her fingertips if that's what it took. She would find a way, if there was one.

She had heard what Clint was up to.

The man who had saved her and had seen more than the weapon. Or the spy. Or the assassin. Or the seductress. Who had called her his friend and meant it.

She finally figured out how to repay him. To wipe out the red in her ledger once and for all.

She was going to save him if it was the last thing she did.

And, "Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down his life for his friends."

"If that's the case, Nat was one of the most loving people I ever knew," Steve finished his eulogy, bringing Clint out of his revery.

Rocket had designed a memorial for her, asking Groot to lend a hand in building it, with a painting set on top.

One by one, her family passed by and paid their final respects to Natasha Romanoff.

His own kids each took big handfuls of flowers up, and Laura had to hold Nathaniel, who sobbed uncontrollably.

Finally, when it was just him and Nat, as it had been so often, he stood frozen in front of the portrait Steve had painted of her, tears coming unreservedly. He held up his offering, unsure if he wanted to leave it or keep it as a memento- a necklace he'd given her so very long ago, to remind her she would always have him. Always.

Except when he failed her.

He may have still been struggling with the guilt thing. He knew how to fall. That was one of the first things he was taught. He knew how to fall and yet he was the one left standing that last time.

"She was a good agent," he heard behind him, from a voice that… shouldn't exist.

"A great one, in fact," it continued, "and, as it turned out, a great person as well."

"She was the best. She was always the best," said Clint, his voice cracking as his eyes filled with tears once more.

"You were right about her," the voice responded. "From the beginning. She finally found something worth fighting for. She finally figured out who she was under all those covers."

"Yeah," he muttered on a croak.

"So it would be a disservice to take that away from her. To say that it wasn't her fight or her right to make the decision she did. I'd hate to think you would rob her of her last honor, Hawkeye."

Clint cried for another minute, his vulnerability never a shame before his best friend. He took another moment to hate himself for surviving, then replayed their last conversation in his head, the last words he'd ever get from the idiot who thought he was worth saving. Then he barked a laugh through his tears, knowing she would say he was the idiot of the two of them. And he would know she was right, as usual. Then he raised a hand to her painted cheek, wishing for things he couldn't change, before he wiped his face and turned around.

"Thought you were supposed to be dead," Clint accused Phil.

"I was. Just came back to say goodbye to an old friend," he said, looking past Clint to a woman he took a chance on long ago and had never, ever regretted it.

"Yeah. I know the feeling," Clint responded, turning and saying one last goodbye. He got up and walked to past Coulson to the family who was still waiting for him in the distance, inclining his head in invitation to follow.

He turned around and said one last goodbye. He had left the necklace on the memorial. He would always have Tasha. He didn't need a reminder.