Inescapable

Ch. 23

Everything felt hazy, like you were underwater. You wanted to push yourself out of it, but you were just so God damned tired. You could hear sounds around you but couldn't really distinguish them. Eventually you felt the haze slowly lift, and the lead in your body weighing you down disappear. You opened your tired eyes, vision still hazy, and saw a figure by the bed. "Tones..." The figure approached you, a comforting hand slipping into yours, as your vision continued to clear you were able to see who held your hand. Clint looked down on you, a mix of sadness and worry marred his features. Your heart dropped, thinking it had been Tony, and while you hoped you were able to keep your disappointment off your features, it was obvious from Clint's face that it showed.

You hadn't even noticed the tears falling from your face until Clint swiped them away with a hand soothingly. "Hey, hey. It's okay. You're safe Y/N." You hiccupped as you tried to sit up. "Take it slow..." Clint said as he supported your back, helping you sit up. You looked down to your abdomen, Clint following your gaze. Your hand naturally came to rest of your abdomen, as you had begun to do lately. You glanced up, searching Clint's face for the answer to the unspoken question. An answer you already knew, deep down. Clint didn't have to speak, the glint in his eyes of unshed emotion was enough of a confirmation. You wanted to sob out, to scream and cry, but just felt all the fight left in you drain.

Everything became heavy again, and you felt yourself falling back towards the bed. Clint supported you and helped you back down as he spoke up. "I'm so sorry Y/N..."

You stared at the ceiling silently, cursing yourself for all your stupid mistakes. Your voice comes out small, tired and weak when you speak again. "Is he – where..." You turned your face towards Clint, knowing he understood who you were asking for. He sighed, closing his eyes momentarily, and then his hand came to rest on your head. He started to stroke your hair, how a father would do to a child. It made you feel small and scared.

"Tony - He's..." You can see Clint struggle to find the right words. Each passing second, breaking your heart further. "He's not himself right now sweety. He just needs to come back to himself... that's all." Silent tears fall as you don't have the strength to say anything, nodding mindlessly and staring back up to the ceiling. Clint continues to stroke your hair, trying to comfort you. You feel horrible that he's trying to help, but it just doesn't work. Eventually the heavyness brings you back under, too tired to stay awake.

-.-

Clint watched as she slept, still stroking her hair when the next change of guard walked through the door. Natasha raised her eyebrow at him, confused by his current actions. "She woke up." He could see, from years of knowing her, a small twitch. An imperceptible frown. She sighed as she walked up across the bed from him.

"Bad?"

"Worse." Clint answered. Their single word conversation, conveying more between them than any onlooker could understand, a gift from years of practice and comrodery between each other. Letting Natasha know just how bad you truly were.

Natasha's nose flared slightly, and he knew her anger must be at an all-time high. "Progress?" He asked.

"Minimal."

Clint nodded, then removed his hand from Y/N's head. "Kitchen?"

"Yeah. Their waiting for you."

Clint nodded and then went to stand next to her, facing the door while she continued to look down at Y/N. He grabbed Natasha's hand giving her a small squeeze. She reciprocated, and Clint knew deep down how much this was affecting her. Then without another word he let go and went to the kitchen to fill in the others and grab some grub.

-.-

Tony hadn't left the lab since they returned. The smell of whiskey clung to his skin as did his dirty shirt. Sitting on the couch off to the side of his lab, he drunkenly lifted the bottle to his lips, upset to find it empty. Groaning he tossed it to the side, not reacting as it shattered against the floor, sending glass everywhere. Propping himself up, he looked at the bottles littered around him, looking for liquid in any of them. Unfortunately, they all came up empty. He begrudgingly groaned, lifting himself unsteadily off the couch. He didn't bother to ask J to assist him in precuring more, the AI had annoyingly cut him off like some stupid bartender. If he wanted to drink himself into a further stupor, he had to get shit himself.

He was surprisingly still rather coordinated in his highly inebriated state, as he walked down the empty hallway from the labs towards the living quarters. He could almost taste victory as he rounded the corner into the kitchen, but stopped short momentarily when all the Avengers were there, gathered around the kitchen island. Making a non-committal groan, he continued to drag himself towards the liquor cabinet. He was stopped short by a hand on his chest. He narrowed his eyes up towards the offending person whose limb just impeded him from his goal. "Rogers." Tony hissed out, venom in just that one word.

"Tony. This has to stop." Captain Perfect says, irritating Tony further. Tony glared at him as he answered, "Sometimes I just want to punch in those perfect fucking teeth." Tony swayed a bit and Steve steadied him. Tony pushed Steve off him. He didn't want his help, or any of their help. He didn't want it. Didn't deserve it. He wanted to wallow in his misery.

Sidestepping Steve, he continued towards his goal. "She woke up." Clint said and it made Tony stop in his tracks. For three days you'd been under, three days Tony had binged on alcohol and nothing else. A part of him wanted to be there with you, waiting for you to wake up. But another part couldn't, wouldn't allow himself to. "She asked about you..." Clint's voice pulled him back to the present.

"And?" Tony snapped, continuing his trek to the alcohol. Internally Tony wanted to slap himself for the comment, this wasn't your fault. He wasn't angry at you. He was angry at himself. He'd lost a part of himself that day. Everything that was good, the things that made him a "hero". Those things vanished when he killed Rumlow, they vanished when he tainted his soul. The last light in him vanished when he saw what was done to you, because of his failure to protect you. It vanished with his unborn child.

It was now Wanda who stood in his way. He growled at her as she began to speak. "You are not a monster Tony."

"Get out of my head!" He screamed out at her, fumbling and swaying back a little when he did.

But the little witch continued, "she needs you, Tony. Now, more than ever. And if you push us away, push her away, it'll only end up hurting you both."

"Well, I don't need anyone!" he side-stepped her, finally reaching the cabinet and pulling out a large bottle of whiskey. "I just need this!" He screamed as he turned around. He stopped short when he saw her. She stood at the edge of the hall, slightly supported by Widow, her face broken in pain with tears streaming down her cheeks.

He whispered her name, unwillingly, stumbling in his spot. He watched in delayed horror as she pushed Widows support away and stumbled by herself down the hall. He didn't notice when he let the bottle slip from his fingers, shattering on the floor sending whiskey and glass everywhere, or when his body involuntarily moved on its own to follow her. The sound of the glass shattering made him pause, his drunken stupor making his reactions too slow. It took him another moment before stumbling forward again after her, screaming out her name. He stumbled past Natasha's cold glare after Y/N, not sure what he was doing. His inebriated state clouding all judgement.

-.-

You heard Tony screaming your name after you. You don't know how you found the strength to run so quickly, you attributed it to your arc reactor heart. A part of him in me. It hurt to see him that way, talk so carelessly about you that way. You wanted to hold him, fix him, but you felt you'd lose yourself and your own grief in the process. For the first time in your life, you wanted to be selfish. So, when you ran outside, the thought popped into your head, and you prayed it would work, not wanting to face reality right now. Not wanting to face Tony.

You looked up to the sky and screamed with all your might, "Heimdall!" Nothing. Tears licked your face as you begged into the sky again. "Heimdall!!" You could hear Tony screaming your name, the door to the outside opening. You whispered once more. "Heimdall. Please..."

You heard Tony scream your name once more, turning, fearful to face him again, you caught his horror-struck face just as the lights appeared. And then he was gone. You were gone.

You land on your knees, the breath all but removed from your lungs. When you finally catch your breath and look up, a pair of gold eyes are looking down on you. "My lady..."