Natasha somersaulted over a piece of rubble, shooting at the oncoming horde of Outriders while staying on Clint's tail as he ran through the battlefield.

"You good back there?" He shouted to her.

"Fine!"

There was nothing more natural to Natasha than fighting as she covered for Clint and it was with a pure rush of adrenaline and euphoria that she surged forward with the deadly grace that exemplified her name: The Black Widow.

"Cap, what do you want me to do with this damn thing?"

"Get those stones as far away as possible!"

"No!" Bruce's voice interrupted the communication system, so loud that Nat winced as she stabbed a disfigured thing in the throat. "We need to get them back where they came from!"

"No way to get them back. Thanos destroyed the quantum tunnel," Tony pointed out.

"Hold on!" Scott ordered through the comms. "That wasn't our only time machine."

The sound of a cheerful and way out of place horn pierced the air and gave the assassins a small window of distraction to open up a clear path.

"I'm guessing we follow the noise?" Nat asked.

"Let's hope it's close."

"Anyone see an ugly, brown van up there?"

A large blur of limbs and sharp teeth suddenly tackled Natasha to the ground and she held her arms up to avoid getting mauled directly in the face, her shoulder blades digging into the rocks beneath her.

"Nat!"

"I got it!" Clint hesitated a few yards away. "Go!"

She twisted and hooked her leg around the Outrider's torso, using all her upper body strength to reverse their positions and in one fluid motion, pulled a blade from her left hip and slit the monster's throat. Black blood gushed from the wound and she grimaced when a few drops hit her cheek. She shoved the corpse away and scrambled to her feet. Clint had disappeared in the dust and without him, Nat felt a bit lost as couldn't see anyone she knew around her, but it was a feeling for naught. The battlefield had always been a second home to her. Sighing, she drew out her batons and gripped them tightly as more of the monsters caught sight of her and began to charge her way. It was barely seconds past when she electro-shocked the last of the group before dismembering it for good measure, blew the hair out of her eyes and traded her batons in for a handgun.

"Still got it," she said with a little grin.

"Can't argue with that."

She turned to see Pietro with an impressed look on his face, black goo staining the front of his suit like ketchup stains. Bucky stood beside him and, ever the watchful soldier, continued to fire off more rounds, hitting things at a distance no normal human being could.

Nat cocked her head.

"Is that my gun?"
"Well, he was gone for five years."
"Doesn't explain the gun."

"I had it since we were in Germany," Bucky complained, "you can't claim it now."

"Uh, you sure about that? I mean, it is mine."

"I'm positive."

Nat rolled her eyes and began to run in the opposite direction of Pietro and the gun thief. She was a little anxious to find Clint and dodged instead of combating to make things quick. Just spotting him shooting off arrows from a ridge between two slabs of cement, she went to call out to him when—

BLAM!

An explosion of black dust lifted her off her feet and threw her into the ground. Ears ringing and eyes blurry, she lay on the rocks, all the wind knocked out of her and a sharp pain in her lower back adding on to all the other parts of her body. A hand swung in front of her face and she gladly reached for it. Natasha groaned in pain as she got to her feet and her thanks was lost, replaced by utter surprise.

"Wha—" She had come face to face with a woman that had antennas sticking out of her head. Her eyes were pure black orbs and a nervous smile creeped onto her face. Other than that, she looked completely normal.

"Are you alright?" The woman asked timidly.

Natasha looked around as if she couldn't believe that such a quiet creature could possibly be on the battlefield.

"I'm good. Thank you."

The familiar voice of a youngster that she only knew because of Stark's "fatherly obsession" over the boy made her prickle protectively.

"Hi, I'm Peter Parker."

"Hey, Peter Parker. Got somethin' for me?"

Carol.

Carol.

She didn't know.

They hadn't told her.

Natasha turned to see the woman glowing with terrestrial powers as Peter carefully handed the gauntlet to her. She moved to lay a hand on his shoulder, her heart sore for the boy that, although beaten and battered, still had a smile on his face for the assassin.

"Carol."

Nat promised herself as soon as it was all over she would tell her. The woman gave her a questioning look, brief but one that Nat knew would be imprinted in her mind.

"I don't know how you're gonna get it through all that," Peter croaked.

Natasha walked over to Carol's side, giving her a nod as more women showed up, cracking their necks as they all turned to face off with the Mad Titan. Most of his armor had been torn clean off and the look on his face was almost desperately infuriated.

"Don't worry," Wanda chimed in, landing beside Natasha with a wink. Outriders by the dozen began their crazed descent on the women as they marched forward, sparks in their eyes and flames in their blood.

"She's got help."

——————-

Nat was exhausted. Outriders were still coming, flailing limbs with no faces and jagged teeth that were one bite away from tearing through her. Her legs and arms ached for her to stop, begged to be relieved of the tension that curled every time she swung or kicked or did everything in her power to stay alive.

It was her mind against her body and slowly, so slowly was her body winning. With a grunt, she used her legs to break the neck of one and put a bullet through another's head when she was, for the fourth time that day, knocked to the ground. It was with great vigor and determination to live that she put her arms up to block her face, but the Outrider reared it's head, patient enough to gloat over the fact that it had finally bested the assassin. Natasha squeezed her eyes shut, the thing's weight like an anvil on her chest and as it let out a bellowing roar, it's mouth darted downwards as fast as it's neck would allow it.

And then...it was gone.

She opened her eyes to nothing, heaving with weariness and alarm. It was as if it had merely disappeared, the huge burden of the Outrider lifted from her body and the wails of its kind piercing the still air. When she caught sight of the dust, it was more than just the monster's weight that was gone from her.

They had done it.

Natasha didn't exactly know what to do with herself as she sat and watched Thanos's army drift away with the blowing winds. For a moment, she was taken back to the dreaded instant when her own had been the same way, but it was no time to grieve for the past. She could see the smiling faces of the heroes. Some had tears in their eyes as they looked around, others embraced their friends as the bloodshed and violence finally came to an end.

Hope.

The mere definition of hope is a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen. It is what fueled the heroes of all kind to band together to bring about the day that the world would be the same again. It is what drove them, what fed their spirit as they fought alongside their comrades in the face of evil itself. It is what made a certain assassin overwhelmed with relief that they had pulled through and come out on top of the whole mess that had been created five years ago.

But, at what cost?

She began to wonder why she didn't see Tony in the air, a smug look on his face and Steve shaking his head below with a smile she knew he wouldn't be able to suppress. Why Clint wasn't shouting for joy, his voice carrying across the field, or the rushing hugs of Scott Lang Natasha had gotten used to. It was when she began to wonder why the comms were silent that she climbed to her feet to see everyone gathering a few yards away around someone leaning against a pile of debris.

She moved closer.
And closer.

Tony's shoulders were slumped forward, his back to her and as Natasha moved to see what he was crouching over, a shock of realization caused a small gasp to slip past her lips.

He was cradling Nebula's head in his lap with a stunned expression as she clenched her jaw, looking down at the blackened and mangled limb barely attached to the rest of her. The gauntlet was completely destroyed as it hung off of what was left of her arm. Half of her face had been burnt away and her eyes fluttered in the struggle to keep them open. Natasha watched as Gamora quickly knelt by her side, unsure of whether or not to touch her.

"Sister..." she whispered raggedly.

"She pushed me out of the way...," Tony choked out as Pepper landed beside him.

Nebula took in a strangled breath as the Guardians gathered around their fallen member. Mantis clenched her hands together with Groot and Quill watching sadly from behind Gamora. Rocket pushed around Drax, his chest heaving as he took in the sight before him with sparkling eyes.

"I-I can...I can fix her," he croaked, looking at Quill, "I can do it."

"No," Gamora answered. She lightly cupped Nebula's face in her palm as tears silently dripped down her cheeks. As gently as she could, she took her sister from Tony's arms and cradled her in her own, "You can't."

She touched her forehead to Nebula's, clutching her other hand in her own and coming away with a soft smile.

"Done," Nebula managed to say and though the strain of doing so caused her indescribable pain, she looked at Gamora, her eyes shining with tears.

"Yes. It is done. You're free...my sister."

Nebula let out one last breath, a sigh of almost contentment, before her eyes closed, her body shuddered and what little life she had left in her was gone. Natasha bowed her head as the other heroes who'd gathered followed suit, Gamora's sudden soft cries being the only sound in the complete silence of mourning. The pain of losing her sister seemed to overwhelm her and she hugged Nebula's lifeless body close.

Seeing this made Natasha's throat tighten and she turned from the scene. She wished she could have held Nyla-Rose like that. For the thousandth time, she wished she could have taken her place back at Vormir and been the one to make the sacrifice.

The image was imprinted in her mind, the sight of Nyla's body and Natasha felt like collapsing to her knees as she had the moment they'd returned and crying until she physically could not handle it anymore.

The heartache was still so fresh...so new. A heavy hand suddenly laid itself upon her shoulder and she lifted her head to see Steve giving her, despite the dust and grime on his face and the circumstances of what their victory had cost overall, a small smile.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this..." Natasha whispered to him, on the verge of tears.

Steve nodded.

"I know...I know."