You saw Natasha's shadow before you actually saw her. The screen before her was bright and cast her features, as well as most of the conference room, in a blueish-white glow. She looked distant, alien, as she stared deeply at the display in front of her. You could only imagine what she was studying so intensely.
"Nat..." You leaned against the door frame and watched her. She replied without taking her eyes off the screen.
"What?" The quiet was filled with the clacking of keys on a keyboard. You sighed and pressed your head against the door frame. Natasha raised a hand and flicked it to the side. A new beam of blue light shown in the room as a new display opened. It was a map with some areas in select continents glowing a soft green.
"It's three in the morning."
Your words seemed to have little impact on Natasha as she stood up in a flash and made strides towards the map. Her brow was furrowed as her eyes darted from one part of the map to the other. One of her hands was curled, pressed to her lips as she thought. Part of you wondered what was going on inside of that head of hers; the other feared it.
"Nat."
"Y/N, I'm busy right now. What do you need?" Her eyes were tired when they met your gaze. You couldn't remember the last time she had gone to bed with you at a reasonable time; let alone gone to bed. Instead of replying, you stayed quiet. Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and watched you. "What?"
"It's been three years of quiet. The world can wait a night," you begged."
"I'm reading Okeye's report and waiting for Carol to get back to me." Natasha's gaze was cold, almost unfamiliar. You couldn't remember the last time she smiled.
"They'll be there tomorrow, please." Natasha remained unmoving. "Natasha, I need yo-"
"And will some new threat that we aren't prepared for! I'm not going to let that happen again, Y/N." You cringed at the hostility in her tone. It was as if each word were laced with a small flame and seared your heart. Natasha must have felt the heat too because she took a step towards you. Before Natasha could speak up, you pushed yourself out of the room and down the hall.
"I'm going to bed," you muttered as you left her alone in the conference room.
Your feet padded against the cold wood floor until you reached the room you shared with Natasha. Although, recently, it felt that you didn't share anything with her anymore.
You collapsed on your bed and buried yourself under the covers. The warmth did little to stop the shiver that gripped you. Your body shook with a vengeance and you closed your eyes in the hopes that, if you ignored it, the feeling would go away. But the loneliness still lingered and chilled you to the bone.
The Avengers compound had been lonely ever since Thanos. It had been three years now since Tony retired to some mountainside farm; since half of the universe fell quiet. Even Steve stopped coming around. When he did visit, it was an effort to get you and Natasha out of the bubble you had both created.
"Look for the bright side," Steve would say. The phrase had become his mantra. The sound of each word echoed in your mind every time you looked at Natasha. It was painful, watching her work herself to nothing.
Her stubbornness made it pointless to worry. Natasha would do whatever she wanted. Without the Avengers, it was like she was floating. You were made to watch her drift idlely by and away. You missed her; holding her; having the warmth of her body beside yours. It was hard to sleep without her, but, by now, you had learned to manage.
It was warm when you woke up. Fleeting rays of sunlight poked through the swaying curtains and you wondered if the heat had kicked on. Even within the three years, Winter came sooner and hit stronger. With half as many people driving cars that meant there was half as fewer chemicals being thrown at the ozone. It peeved you to admit it, but Steve could be right.
A low, questioning hum by your side stole you away from your thoughts. Leaning up on the back of your elbows, you looked down to see Natasha. Her hair, the roots now returned to their natural red, was fanned out on a pillow. The woman's long lashes kissed the tops of her cheeks and you couldn't help but melt back down into the bed.
There were still bags under her eyes from the stress and lack of sleep Natasha had amassed in the past three years. Her long locks of hair were tangled, bunched up in places that she had missed with a brush or hadn't cared to look after at all. She still looked beautiful and you were happy. At least, in that moment, she was resting.
It took all you had not to reach out and trace the curve of her jaw or the bridge of her nose. You couldn't remember the last time Natasha had welcomed your softest of touches. She had dived headfirst into busy work and you hadn't seen her surface. Until now, that is.
Your thought must have been loud as Natasha, eye still closed, shifts against the mattress. Your breath catches in your throat so that not even your exhale could wake her. But you know all too well that Natasha is alert. You would be surprised if she wasn't awake before you. Years of training could not be washed away so easily.
"Are you awake?" The question comes out as a whisper, barely audible above the shifting blankets around you as you settle back in bed.
"Would you accept my apology if I said 'yes'?" Natasha's are still closed as she replies and you don't fight the small smile as it spreads along your lips.
"It would be hard to apologize when you're asleep though, wouldn't it be?" You teased and Natasha finally opened her eyes. Even the color of her irises looked dull as if Natasha's exhaustion had stolen their pigment.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. You lifted your hand and brushed strands of tangled hair from her face.
"I'm sorry too." Natasha shook her head and frowned.
"No, you didn't do anything to-"
"Exactly," you interrupted, "I should have stayed with you. Understood you." Natasha shifted, sitting up in your bed just enough to peer down at you. Half of a smile danced along her plush lips and for a moment you saw that 'brightside' Steve talked about.
"You're the only one that ever understood me," she replied and leaned down. She kissed you gently, a simple brushing of lips that made your world tremble with hope. Natasha's hand cupped your jaw and you melted into her touch. She threw her leg over your lap so she was straddling you. When she pulled away from the kiss, you smiled up at her.
"Then maybe we should try to understand pancakes?" You asked with a quirked brow.
"Waffles," Natasha countered and you laughed. You both would get through this. There was still some life, some hope that no one could steal.
