The Mimic (HE/HIM VERSION)

172

As soon as the little boy disappeared from his sight, y/n looked down at the watch that he'd been given for time travel. He had to keep moving. If he dwelled on that bittersweet reaction, he'd break down. So, y/n closed his eyes, and pressed the button on his watch.

When y/n opened his eyes again, he found himself back in the compound. Back on the platform, and back in a circle with the rest of the team, just like how they'd stood when they left.

Almost everyone seemed shaken up over what they'd just been through, but they all seemed pretty clean. Except for y/n. He stuck out like a random splash of colour in a black-and-white movie. All covered in blood and soot. The stench of smoke followed him. It plagued every part of his mission suit, from his boots to the knives strapped around his waist. But, nobody seemed to make a comment on it.

Everyone had the stone that they were tasked on finding. All either held in their hands or in a briefcase of sorts. Yet nobody made a movement, nor did they say a word. They all scanned around the circle, making eye contact every now and again to check if either person was okay. It was a bittersweet feeling, standing in a circle together again. They had just finished the hardest part of their final mission. Now all they had to do was decide who was going to snap everyone back into existence.

However, as y/n scanned around the circle, a deep, deep frown appeared on his face. There was somebody missing. His eyebrows furrowed, scanning every person over and over again. He even turned around to check if they had already stepped off of the platform. But they hadn't.

His heart begun to pound as he made eye contact with Clint from across the circle. He had tears in his eyes. He looked destroyed. Y/n's chest tightened, a lump beginning to form in his throat as he tried to deny the assumption that he'd already made. He swallowed hard, his eyes staying fixed on Clint the whole time. He clenched his jaw tight to try and stop the tears from forming in his eyes, his bottom lip beginning to wobble. He didn't want his assumption to be true, but the only way that he could find out was if he spoke.

"Where's Nat?"

Y/n didn't even need Clint's answer. The look on his face was enough for it to feel as if his heart and mind had been put through a blender. He couldn't decide on whether to tense up or crumble to the ground. Hot and heavy tears blurred his vision as he stared at where Natasha should've been standing, unable to even lift his head and look at anyone else on the team.

It felt like his whole world had shut down.

Y/n couldn't even hear properly over the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. There was something about Vormir, a red man wearing a cloak, and a cliff. It was a soul for a soul. Clint had tried to sacrifice himself, but Nat didn't let him. She sacrificed herself. She jumped off of the cliff. All because of a stupid stone. There must've been another way. There must've.

Natasha was a big sister to y/n. She took care of him and protected him during his darkest times. Y/n could talk to Nat about anything. Anything at all. They'd laughed together, they'd cried together - hell, they'd even beaten the shit out of one another. And now she was gone. The only person left on the team that y/n fully trusted was gone - not dusted, gone - and there was no way that they were going to be able to bring her back.

Natasha was dead.

They weren't even able to have their final training session together.

The rest of the team crowded around Clint. Everyone except y/n. He couldn't move. He couldn't process any of it. He didn't understand why she had to be the one to die. He didn't understand why she wasn't the person to come back from Vormir.

He had never been close to Clint. He understood that the pair had been best friends, but y/n had never bonded with him. Hell, they'd barely had a conversation. It had been a fifty-fifty chance. A fifty-fifty chance between a person he considered family, and a stranger. The fact that the stranger was the one to come back filled him with a sick hatred. It was a hatred that he knew was wrong, and he would never vocalise it, but something inside of him wished that Clint would've been the one to jump.

Just the realisation of that hatred made him feel sick to his stomach. He shouldn't be thinking like that. Wishing death upon a person was serious and evil, but he couldn't help it. There was an alternate timeline where Natasha was the one to come back. Where they would've had their training session, and he would've told Nat everything about his trip back to the facility. But that wasn't this timeline. In this timeline she was dead, and y/n was alone.

No Sam. No Peter. No Shuri. No T'Challa. No Natasha. No Bucky.

Y/n begun to retrace his final moments with Natasha, still glued to the spot. To everyone else, he seemed completely spaced out, just staring blankly at the ground as tears continued to fall, but there was more going on. He was desperately trying to remember every single movement, every single word, every single smile from their last moments together. There must've been more to it. There was no way that nobody would've known about the soul stone. The pair had been picked for a reason. To get the soul stone, it always had to be two people...

That was when it clicked.

A deep frown appeared on y/n's face. He slowly lifted his head up to reveal a look of pure sorrow and betrayal, his breathing beginning to pick up. It wasn't a surprise that he'd been betrayed by this person again, but the fact that Natasha had to lose her life was where y/n drew the line.

"You knew." He snapped through gritted teeth, making direct eye contact with Tony.