Random x reader PLATONIC book *REQUESTS OPEN*

*Request for vikisisk220015* Clint and Natasha

"How long do you guess Stephen?"

"To be honest......" Stephen exhaled deeply rubbing the back of his neck. "Four months, maybe even less."

"What can we do?" asked Wanda. "I know that—removing it won't do much but—there has to be something to at least help her."

"There is. I can—connect you all to a former coworker of mine. Next to me, she's the best neurosurgeon in New York. I trust her with my own life. It won't be easy for her, especially with how fast this tumor is spreading so she's going to need everyone's support. Everyone's."

"She's already gotten it." Said Steve. "From the first day Nat and Clint brought her into our lives, she's always had it. Anything she needs, we'll give it to her. Whatever she needs help with, we'll help her. We're not gonna abandon her when she's given us so much hope and life to the team. Whatever it takes—we're gonna be there for her."

*My POV*

Life always finds a way of kicking you when your down. Just when you think you're on top of the world or feel like life is good, karma comes in and sweeps the leg.

Discovering that I had Stage 4 brain tumor and had maybe months to live it—it really made me think of just how much I had in my life. The people I've met, the friends I've made the—family that gave me a second chance (yeah I knew I was adopted but they still loved me as much as I loved them).

Still it—it didn't make what I had to experience any better, nor was it a cake walk. First I had to be pulled out of school and was basically homeschooled by Bruce and Tony (on the one upside, they never gave me any homework. Just tests and quizzes). It was best decided that I stopped my Mystic Arts training as just using my muscles started to become a problem.

Hell sometimes even just getting out of bed is hard because some days my body and muscles would ache so much, I had to be carried everywhere or (like a baby) be hand-fed by someone because I couldn't even lift my arm to grab a spoon or fork. And don't even get me started on the chemotherapy.

Sure Dr. Christine Palmer was nice and she helped me and my family out as much as she could, but the whole process was still scary to go through. Going into that large, tunnel-like machine, hearing the loud noises that came out of it, and of course the hair loss. The hair-loss in particular was difficult for me to swallow.

Not that I'm vain or anything but—my hair's always been special to me. When I was little, mom and I would braid each other's hair as she would tell me about my Aunt Yelena and their brief time together when they were kids, and then when Wanda came on the team, she taught me a little rhyme her and her mother used to say to each other as they would braid each other's hair.

Even dad, Bucky, Sam, and Steve would help style my hair for school or an upcoming event like when I was doing a school talent show or in a play. And when I was forced to lose it, it felt like all the memories I shared were now forever lost and were never going to come back.

It was bedtime and both my parents were tucking me in for the night. Dad handed me my evening pill for the pain while mom was tucking me under the covers.

"There we go, how's that? Comfy enough for you?"

"It's great mom." I said emotionlessly.

"Anything else we can do for you?" asked dad.

"I'm good, thanks." They were both silent for a moment until dad asked again.

"Wanna tell us what's going through your mind sweetheart?" A hidden tear fell at the corner of my eyes and I said to them.

"I'm scared guys. I—no I'm terrified. Every night when I shut my eyes I fear this is it, this is gonna be my last night on Earth."

"Oh sweetie." Mom softly cooed as both she and dad sat on each side of me.