Worst Case Scenario

by Liss Webster

The silence is eerie. Natasha can hear herself breathing, quick and shallow. Maybe sound is deadened by falling ash or debris that fills the streets. Maybe there's no one left to make any. She swipes a rough hand across her face, and blood red smears across the dirt. Her breathing slows a little, steadies.

(Natasha's worst case scenarios have their own worst case scenarios; ever since Loki, she's been waiting for this.)

The sky is pure white. There is no sun. She can feel her heart in her ears.

And there: noise; a scraping, something moving. She staggers one step, then two, leaning against the shell of a car. Behind it, she sees Captain America, on his knees, dragging his shield slowly towards him. His stripes bleed red into red.

"Steve," Natasha says, and the sound is deadened by the falling ash or debris, and she says again, "Steve."

They only have one shot at this. That's all that's left. ("That's plan Z," Tony had said, waving nonchalantly at the schematics, "or, as I prefer to call it, plan alien-armageddon-shit-argh-we're-all-going-to-die. " "We're kinda hoping it won't be needed," Bruce had added drily. They're both dead now, of course.) One shot, and it has to be Natasha and it has to be Steve, because they're all that's left.

Steve looks like shit. He's sitting on his heels, shield in hand, but it's not the blood that matters or the broken arm (that will mend, in time; they don't have time), but the way his head droops and his eyes are dark. Not even Loki can prepare someone for this devastation. Not even the Nazis. Not even Hydra.

The thing is, they've only got one shot at this, and it has to be Natasha and it has to be Steve. She drops to her knees in the falling ash and debris, and grabs Steve's shoulder.

"We need to complete the plan," she says. She says, "Steve. We need to finish this." Her voice is the only sound, and Steve looks up. Natasha moves her hands, clasps Steve's face between them, so he has to look at her. He has to listen to her. "Plan Z," she says. "Remember?"

"Alien armageddon," says Steve. His voice is rough. "We're all going to die," and Natasha smiles, they both smile, remembering the others and the lab and what they were fighting for. She leans forward, pressing a kiss against his forehead, holding them together in this moment, the sound of their ragged breathing the only thing left in the world.

She pulls him to his feet. They're standing. They have a plan. It will work.

It has to work.

FIN

Written for the Avengers Kissing Meme.