𝕻𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖚𝖒 - [𝗦𝘁𝗲𝗽𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲]

𝐱𝐥𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 — farewell, natasha romanoff

━━━━━━━

 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 having one's body shrunken to the size of an atom was a strange thing; as though somebody has tried to grab you and force you into the tiniest little box, ready to be shipped around the world. In simpler terms; Emilia found it somewhat suffocating.

 But it lasted only a short while before she was soon back in the Avengers compound, full-sized and only slightly queasy. She wobbled on her feet, and Bruce — who had eagerly rid himself of muscles and that hideous shade of green before sliding back into the clothes Emilia had taken from him — did the very same, having to dart a hand out to clamp on Emilia's shoulder for some semblance of balance.

 Everybody, or so they thought, had returned on two feet with a stone — or an odd tube of sludge — clutched with greedy hands; Emilia could sense them all, their power resonating in light pulses that made her shudder, that made her skin crawl as though she'd become infested with bugs.

 There was a hesitant beat in which each quantum suit fled their bodies, revealing the flushed faces of Avengers, Guardians of the Galaxy, and... Emilia and Scott. There was a light glow on each of their features, be it from the layer of sweat that had poured amidst their missions, or from the mere thought of being home, ready to fix the mess they'd made.

 But Emilia scanned their faces properly; once more locking the door to her heart that would allow hope to trail on through. Bruce had returned with her, and his sweaty palm was still seeping warmth into her should; she was oddly thankful for the sensation.

 Her eyes were drawn to Tony first, the man who had helped carry her broken parts, never giving up in his attempt to weld them back together — ever the mechanic. There he was, throwing her a nod, looking more relieved than she'd ever seen him. Steve was beside him, then there was Scott, Thor and Rocket. Rhodey and Nebula were side by side... and then there was Clint.

 But the moment Emilia took in the state of him, he'd fallen to his knees with a heavy thud.

There was no need for Bruce to ask where Natasha Romanoff was, there was no need for Steve to repeat those words. It was all too heart-breakingly obvious — from the look of utter despair upon Clint Barton's face to the barren space by his side.

 Natasha was gone. Emilia knew it before Clint parted his trembling lips. His sodden hair had fallen around his face and clung to his skin just as he clung to the Stone he'd managed to swipe. He looked up at them, finding every set of eyes full of a weight unlike any other.

 No words came from his lips, they merely clamped together once more, shaking tremendously.

 Emilia could feel the tremors wracking Bruce's hand, the way his fingertips dug into her shoulder. She reached up, her own calloused digits smoothing over his own, as she scooped them up and held them tight.