Inhumane [Clintasha]

I'll Carry The Guilt For As Long As I Need

Her breath came out in swirling spirals, flowing with the wind before blowing away.

She wished she could follow.

Despite her less than appropriate clothing for Russia's harsh winters, Natasha failed to notice the ever growing cold that had begun to sink into her bones. All that she could think about was Clint.

Clint.

Or, at least, what was left of him.
Which was a wife and three kids. A whole family. Devastated at the loss of him.

And it was all her fault.

That was what she told herself, anyway.

Even though the psychiatrists, the best S.H.I.E.L.D. could offer, told her otherwise.

Even though his wife, still recovering from Nathaniel's birth, told her otherwise.

Even though his kids, in their own child-like ways, told her otherwise.

We love you Aunty Nat, they had said.

Please stay, Laura had said.

You couldn't have known, the shrinks had said.

Well, I damn well should have! she had wanted to scream at them.

But she didn't. Which was why she was here, in Russia, in the first place. To punish herself. Or distance herself from everyone. Or to take a break from everything that reminded her of him.

The lies she had told were starting to get mixed up in her head.

After a few minutes, or maybe it was a few hours, it was hard to tell with no way to keep time, the path started to become recognizable.

Good, she thought. I'm almost there.

Now that she was so close, so close, she no longer needed to think about where to place her feet. They knew the way.

The old H.Y.D.R.A. base's remains had all but vanished since the last time they had been there. Which didn't surprise her, considering that they had been there to blow it up in the first place. Which they had succeeded in doing, thank you very much.

Hey, he had said, after it was all over. We could bury it here.

The high winds had been blowing him around all day, which made his hair look so tousled it seemed as if he had just rolled out of bed, which he had, but that was beside the point.

Bury what? she had asked, not bothering to let her frustration show now that the job was done. It had been a long day, and she didn't have the energy to put up with his crap. She had been this close to slapping him.

The necklace, he replied, with a duh undertone lacing his words, while a hint of mischief lingered in his eyes.

Why? she had asked, confused as to why he would want to do that. He had given it to her, why would he want to throw it away?

'Cause you hate it. You said so yourself. I distinctly remember, he had said. 'Course, I also remember Stark saying he would design some pizza arrows for me, but he denies it, as evidenced by the lack of pizza arrows in my quiver, he had rambled on. I could really go for some pizza, too.

Natasha had rolled her eyes several times by that point, but followed after him anyway.

It didn't take long for them to find a spot. It was underneath the exact place where the bomb had gone off.

It will be easier to find if we ever come back, he had said.

It will also be easier to bury, because there's a three-foot hole here. But that's obviously not why you chose this spot, she had replied.

He had stuck his tongue out at her, and had proceeded to cover the necklace with dirt.

It had taken longer than either of them had anticipated, and they almost didn't make it to their extraction point, but neither had cared at the time. It had been slightly fun.

Slightly, she had told his wide-eyed grin.

However, now, Natasha was never more grateful for it. Maybe Clint had made her bury it there for a reason, maybe he had known what would happen to him. But that didn't matter now.

Now, he was dead.

Now, she was alive.

It should have been the other way around, she thought.

A sudden gust of wind threw her out of her thoughts. She realized, with a start, that she had already begun to dig. Her fingers were so numb that she lost feeling in them, but that didn't matter now.

The ice cold metal was like fire in her hands. Her hands, which were now shaking, quickly clasped the jewelry around her neck.

As she stood up, she finally surveyed her surroundings. The closely knit forest was clustered with snow covered trees. Snowflakes flew every which way, stinging her eyes and burrowing in her hair.

Now that her mission was done, she started the trek back to her safe house.

Her legs guided her, her eyes unseeing, her mind stuck on memories of Clint. Like the broken TV in his crappy apartment, they kept replaying, over and over and over and over again.

The only thing she could feel now was the necklace.

It felt like a burden against her skin, but a lingering feeling of safeness remained. Perhaps it was just guilt in disguise, but she put up with it all the same.

Guilt made her human.

Even if it was just a lie, pretending to be human was the only thing that kept her from tearing the necklace right off of her person.

The jewelry now housed her darkest, most inhumane secret.

So, it stayed.

For now.

~~~