Insatiable Habits

The Final Farewell

Of course, throughout the night Natasha had numerous terrors. Nightmares about you falling to the pit of Vormir, dreams of the good times you shared - which she ultimately couldn't handle now you're gone. Wanda woke at every shuffle from Natasha, right by her side to comfort her. Though, Natasha was someone who was wholly observant. Unlike yourself, being unable to see past your own suffering to help another, Natasha could see that Wanda was also in pain. She longed for you too. They found refuge in one another's company and although both parties felt entirely guilty of their shared time together out-with you, they knew that you'd prefer it this way.

Natasha dreaded waking upon the morning's arrival. She dragged herself out from below the blankets and made her way to the sink, grabbing herself and Wanda a glass of water. Before she had returned to her makeshift bed, Tony had entered the room, Steve following just behind. Natasha couldn't think of anything worse at this moment in time other than conversing with those bar Wanda.
Neither of the boys said a word until Natasha had turned to face them.
"We're gonna hold off putting the gauntlet together."
Tony spoke with a sympathetic ring in his tone.
Natasha offered no response. Her expression remaining blank.
"Y/N deserves a funeral. We'll do that before we do anything else." Steve spoke as he made his way over to Natasha, Tony following. He pulled her into a tight embrace, allowing her to melt into his arms. She nodded, granting them permission to hold the event.
"We have it sorted. Tony's place. Can go ahead tonight if you're okay."
Initially, Natasha decided that it was far too soon. She needed time to work through your death, though she realised quickly that in this job - time was not a luxury many had the pleasure of experiencing. She nodded reluctantly, before going to leave the room.
"6pm. I can drive you, Nat."
Steve's eyes held pure condolence. Perhaps he understood Natasha best. Partially, he knew how this felt. 

Wanda helped Natasha dress. She fetched the outfit from her room and wiped the stray tears with the back of her hand fixing Natasha's makeup every time it had smudged. They readied themselves together, in Wanda's room - without question - as it was pre-assumed that your shared room with Natasha was still out of bounds. 6pm was rolling round quickly, Wanda warned Natasha of the time just as Steve knocked gently on the door.
"I'll be downstairs." he called in before retreating.
Wanda took her hand, ready to leave.
"I just need to do something."
Natasha stood hunched as Wanda nodded.
"I'll see you downstairs, okay."
Skeptical yet accepting, Wanda rose to exit the room before making her way to Steve. Once Wanda had left, Natasha examined herself in the floor length mirror - picking apart her appearance. This time, there was no one there to stop her. Of course, when you were around, you could tell when Natasha was having a moment of self consciousness and would always rush to her assurance. You'd kiss up her shoulders and neck, wrapping yourself round her before telling her all the things you loved about the way she looked.

Natasha didn't have you here to affirm her this time. Instead, she had to dismiss her own self reproach and trust that she looked presentable. She left the room quietly, gently shutting the door behind her before making her way to your room. An excruciating pit formed in her stomach as she approached the mahogany door. Every memory of you and her flooding back as she continued to force them down. She couldn't ruin her makeup yet another time. The way in which she gently nudged the door open reminded her of that night you had arrived home injured from Budapest. She remembered the way you had wrapped yourself round her, allowing her to strip you and clean you up. You were so comfortable. She remembered you asking her to stay, and how badly she wanted to take you to bed and hold you. But love is for children she thought. She swept her impulses aside and left you alone. Natasha regretted it every day. As she stepped inside, every memory of you on top of her, under her, inside her, washed over her like a great wave. Every kiss, cuddle, peck on the cheek. The tears, the arguments and the love.

It hurt her like nothing had before.

There it was on the bed, laid across the sheets as if it were on display. Your jumper. The jumper Natasha wore on the plane journey to Edinburgh. Your scent was practically leaking off the garment. She lifted it, her hands trembling at the sensation of the all-too-familiar fabric. Natasha held the item to her face, basking in the aroma wondering when she'd ever smell it again. Perhaps this really was the end. She let the jumper slip from her grasp back onto the surface of the unmade bed. She realised that when the fragrance would finally wear off, there would be none of it left. The room around her harboured countless reflections of you strung across the very walls the space had been compiled of. She had to say goodbye. She'd never move on from you - she knew that. But she had to bid you a farewell.

She'll think about you every day. She'll tell Clint's children what a wonderful auntie you would've made. She'll hang onto your jumper, the rings. She'll get closer to Bucky, stay close to Wanda and help them through. She'll visit Edinburgh and go to the old bar you'd kissed that stupid bartender in. She'd take the train there, visit the very tracks you saved her on. She'll try overcome her fear of turbulence and remind herself of how you laughed at her upon noticing it. She'll tell Pepper you changed your gauze that night, even though you didn't. She'll let Steve feed her his cheesy reassurances without sighing or complaining. She'll hug Tony the same way you did and remind him to get his sleep. She'll remember you forever, you'll be her final dying thought.

She'll wait for you.

Natasha inhaled deeply before backing into the door, stepping out as she held it open with her hand. Letting it shut slowly, she uttered her final valediction.

"Goodbye, my love."