Away at War/Battle MemeWe all know war can be a hard time for everyone but those left behind? It can be torture. Hoping you get a letter or a call, staying glued to the television and cringing at those news stories. Guess what happens to you now? Your loved one has gone off to fight a war (battle, fight, in that ilk of things) and some time has
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He went on with life. It was, really, the only choice he had. No one noticed or they didn't care, and that was fine. He didn't want to talk to anyone about it anyway.
The second call came in the late evening one day. Without hesitation he headed towards headquarters, anxious to see her, but the ring suddenly felt too heavy in his pocket. Maybe he should have left it at home.
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She'd shoved everyone out of the room as soon as she knew he was there so that they could be alone. And then she just stood there, suddenly very aware that she looked like shit.
A hand came up to push her hair out of the way, the red curls long and unruly before she just rushed into his arms like a signal had just been let off and it was okay to move.
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"That's it. No more solo missions," he murmured, holding her tight.
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The fact that they'd ever even made it as long as they had before she'd disappeared was a miracle. Why would she have ever wanted to forget it? "They won't be able to send me anywhere without you or Barton."
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He pressed his nose into her hair and breathed in a deep sigh of relief. He tried not to care about people so much. He especially tried not to care about people in the same line of fire as him, because in the end it would end in heart break and he knew that. But the in-between moments made it worth it.
After a moment of comfortable silence, he gave her a gentle squeeze.
"Look. Natasha. I wanted to ask you something, before all ... This happened.
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She pulled back slightly as he started to speak again, and Natasha gave a shake of her head. "Tony..."
Her stomach twisted slightly, but she stayed in his arms as she looked up at him. Her lips curled in a smirk and she raised an eyebrow to try and pretend anything Tony had held onto this long wasn't serious. "If it's about the threesome again, I'm going to need some time to get my energy back."
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"No. I promise it's not about the threesome. But just so we're clear, I think Pepper is technically interested so like. Don't take it off the table."
He grinned a little, then shrugged, then cleared his throat as nerves set him.
"Uh. Actually. It's a little more ... Permanent than a threesome. And I mean, I don't know, you don't have to say yes or anything. Really. But I just thought ... hell, why not, right?"
He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a blue ring box.
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"You and redheads. It's a good thing she decided not to see me as someone who was taking you away completely. I promise to keep it in the back of my mind."
Her eyebrows drew together again as she saw a rarity: a nervous Tony Stark. Natasha had started to believe such a creature didn't exist.
And then her lips parted as she saw the box and trembling fingers reached for it. She tentatively pushed it open and Natasha sucked in a breath. "Tony, I--What do you mean I don't have to say yes? Do you not want me to say yes? Because I would, you know. Say yes. If this offer is on the table."
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No one had expected for him to appear months later, bleeding, battered, and on the edge of consciousness. He'd gone directly to intensive care, hooked up to every wire and tube and machine that they could find just to keep him hanging on. No one knew why he couldn't Hulk out and repair any damage, but it seemed to take everything he had to just keep making it through another day. Every now and then he would be coherent enough to mutter Natasha's name - and he didn't seemed interested in going anywhere until he saw her.
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"Hi." he croaked quietly, squeezing her hand gently. "What took you so long?"
Even that seemed to exhaust him, though, and he closed his eye again, breathing shakily. She'd been the one face he had wanted to see the most while he was gone - the one he wanted to swoop in and save him. He knew that was too much to have asked of her, though. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to survive, himself. He was just glad to see her.
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She really did want to be the white knight. She wanted to be his saviour, but everything had worked against her. She got to her feet briefly to press a kiss to his forehead and gave a shake of her head.
But the apology was bitten back because it wouldn't do either of them any good. She just wanted him to get better. She needed him to get better. "Next time I'm picking the restaurant."
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"I was--" He coughed, suddenly, and seemed like he couldn't stop, wracked with pain. It went on for a moment before he got his breath back. "I wasn't ever very good at picking restaurants."
He smiled crookedly at her, trying to open both eyes, to look more reassuring. His left eye is almost damaged too badly to see, though, and he closes it again. He doesn't begrudge her for not finding him, he never could. He's glad it happened to him instead of her. "I'm sorry, Natasha."
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She shifted a hand to carefully touch his cheek and then his hair. There had to be a way. He had to be able to get through this. Didn't they understand that she couldn't be without him?
"I'm definitely in charge of picking the restaurants. You can pick the movies." She had stilled as he coughed, eyebrows pulling together with obvious concern that she could no longer hide.
And that smile and Natasha exhaled slowly before she returned it with a crooked smile of her own. God, she really did love his smile. "Don't apologise. You know I hate when you do that. I'd rather you just got better so we can get to the make-up sex. You're in months of debt, you know."
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He knows that it's not good. he's not entirely sure what they did to him while he was gone - he's missing bits and pieces, the other guy's memories and his both a blur, but he knows he won't just get better soon. Funnily enough, he wishes he could. It's been a long time since Bruce wanted to survive.
"I'll do my best, Natasha." He meant it. He just didn't know if it would be enough.
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