Chapter Text
On the quinjet, Sam and Bruce had shared photos of Laura and the kids, as well as the farm. There were animals too. She could see a lot of Clint in all of the kids, especially the girl, Lila. Sam shared that she was into archery and seemed to have her dad’s far-sightedness and ability to aim. Cooper, the oldest, was a studious boy, apparently his mother’s son. And Nathaniel was named after this world’s Natasha and Pietro and had turned out to be a hyperactive little boy, like his middle namesake.
They had called Laura before they left, asked to talk to her alone and in private first. She’d found an excuse to send Clint and the kids off the farm on an errand, then called them back on video.
She’d burst into tears when Natasha had finally moved into camera range. They’d told her the basics, but she still covered her mouth as she’d sobbed, then apologized for breaking down. It had taken a bit for her to pull herself together, but she refused to go off camera, not taking her eyes off Natasha.
“I can’t believe it,” Laura said, smiling through her tears. “You look just like her. But I can tell you’re not her.”
“No,” Natasha said. “I’m not. And I don’t think I can replace her.”
Laura laughed and rubbed at her red and swollen eyes.
“Oh, sweetie,” she chuckled. “You won’t replace her. But if you’re anything like her, we’re happy to meet you as her twin sister.”
Natasha struggled to keep herself from crying as well and did a good job, or so she thought. When Sam slipped an arm around her shoulders, she realized her face was wet.
“It’s a great idea, Laura,” Bruce said. “Cooper and Lila will probably guess it’s not true, but Nate would buy it, I think.”
“I’ve got to catch Clint before they get home!” Laura frantically grabbed her phone and began to dial. “He needs to meet you before we introduce you to the kids.” As the phone rang, she pressed a button on the computer she was using to video chat with the jet and the ‘mute’ icon popped up.
Sam used sign language to let Laura know their estimated time of arrival. She nodded and held up her finger to tell them to wait, to not log off the videochat yet.
“Hey honey,” Laura said. She took a deep breath, looking at Natasha. “I have a huge, like Hulk sized favor to ask.” She winked at Bruce and turned to pace away from the computer, her phone to her ear.
“How are you holding up?” Bruce asked Natasha while they let Clint and Laura talk. Natasha could hear the woman, Laura, explaining that there was a surprise coming, so the kids needed to stay at the park for a few hours. Natasha swiped at her eyes.
“It’s happening,” she said. “After everything…it’s…coming to an end, right?” Bruce smiled at her softly.
“Looks like it,” he replied. “But remember, we’ll be there to support you, okay? No matter what happens.”
Natasha tensed. It’s not like she didn’t know her fairytale ending could still implode.
“No matter what,” Bucky echoed from the pilot seat.
Sam squeezed her gently.
“Okay,” Laura said as soon as she unmuted. “The kids are staying behind at the park ostensibly to help Ms. Bonnevant with her groceries and some other errands. She lives down the road, so the kids will walk home from her house once everything is settled. It’ll give us a few hours.” She paused for a deep breath. “Clint is on his way back and will be here in about 15 minutes. I need to brief him.”
She smiled at Natasha, who nodded.
“Want one of us there to help break the news?” Sam asked and Laura seemed to release a little tension.
“Yes, please.” She grimaced, looking between them. “Bruce?”
Bruce shared a look with Sam before he nodded.
“Of course.”
“We are landing in just a few minutes,” Bucky said from the cockpit. “Bruce needs to head up to the farm and I’ll stay by the quinjet. Should get him to go to the farm first.”
Sam agreed and relayed the info to Laura as Bucky began slowing for descent.
*****
“Bruce!” Clint was all smiles as he hopped out of the SUV with the insulated bag hanging off his arm.
On the porch, Bruce and Laura stood up from where they had been sitting on the steps talking.
Bucky crouched at the base of the open ramp and relayed what he could see to Sam and Natasha inside.
“Well, they’re talkin’,” Bucky said quietly. “I think they’re tellin’ him, because he’s gone all secret agent still.” There was a pause and then Clint’s head swiveled to look at the quinjet. Dusk was hours from setting in, so Bucky could clearly see the frantic look on the archer’s face. “Aaaaand, he’s lookin’ this way.”
“You can do this,” Sam said, pulling his arm from her shoulders and then taking her hand to squeeze it.
She nodded, trying to wipe the fear from her face. He was right behind her as she stepped down the ramp. She passed Bucky, but her eyes were only for Clint, who had caught sight of her and was stumbling in his hurry.
“Nat?” Clint called out and then broke into a run.
Sam squeezed her hand and then let go. As she felt unmoored from him, she felt the pull from the man coming towards her and moved to meet him. He didn’t stop, but slammed into her, wrapping his arms around her.
She could feel him repeating his favorite nickname for her in Russian, so she replied with her usual Russian endearment for him and they both crumbled to their knees, sobbing.
“How?” He asked after what felt like forever to her. She was drained. It still wasn’t dark around them though.
“Let’s go to the house so we can get more comfortable and talk,” Laura said from nearby. Natasha didn’t want to look away from Clint, but she could tell the others were all nearby, hovering.
“Clint,” Sam spoke up. “Jack and Cas found her and guided her here.”
Clint knelt up with his hands on holding her face, so he could look at her intensely. His own cheeks were wet, but his smile wouldn’t diminish.
“Dean stayed behind to see if he can get in contact,” Sam continued.
“Clint,” Natasha sobbed, realizing that it was really happening. He was looking at her like she mattered. Like he’d already decided she was now part of his family. “I’m not her,” she told him and curled in on herself. She felt his arms go around her shoulders as he, in turn, curled around her in a protective, encompassing gesture.
“I don’t care, Nat.” His voice wobbled. “You’re here and I’m sorry for whatever you had to go through to get here, but you’re here! I don’t give a shit about the rest.”
“I was ready to go,” she said quietly as he helped her stand. Sam slipped in on her open side, with Laura on Clint’s open side. Bruce and Bucky fell behind them, completely the protective detail that brought them up the steps into the house. They paused at the door, Laura and Sam going ahead to the kitchen to make coffee and tea.
“I was too, after Laura and kids disappeared,” he said, leading her to the long wooden table they used for meals. “But you gave me hope. You brought me back, then died to bring them back to me.”
“I don’t want to…I can’t…replace her,” she said shakily. She could hear the others moving around the space, giving her a sense of privacy with Clint, while being close and supportive.
“She’s irreplaceable,” Clint said, shaking his head. “But I’m pretty damn sure you are too. Are you sure you won’t be missed on your world?”
She looked down at where their hands were clutched together on the tabletop and swallowed.
“No one left to miss me there,” she finally whispered. She was surprised, but not, as he gathered her in his arms again, this time, holding the back of her head gently.
“Then stay here,” he whispered into her hair. “Let us be your home.”
“You can take Nat’s room,” Laura said from where she’d come up with a mug of coffee for Clint. “Or one of the other spare rooms that the others usually use when they visit. The kids would be absolutely thrilled to have Auntie Nat’s twin sister move in.”
“Or you can have your own space at the bunker,” Sam said, setting a steaming tea in front of Natasha. “Dean can fix up whatever car you want from the garage.”
“Or,” Bruce said, “Coulson has room on the new base that he’d share with you if you offer to help evaluate the new SWORD agents.”
“And he wouldn’t make you go out and fight,” Bucky added.
Natasha looked around at them all and laughed as happier tears flowed.