Oookay I'm Back! :] Very Very Sorry For The Long Disappearance Everyone, February Was...yeah. But I'm

oookay I'm back! :] very very sorry for the long disappearance everyone, february was...yeah. but I'm hoping to get out a chapter of the series soon enough sometime either today or tomorrow<3

I hope you've all been okay <3 missed ALLLL of you

okay, the next chapter for 'undeserving of a love like yours' is gonna be a little late for today :') sorry everyone, but I'll try to get it out sometime soon!!

boots

💕 nat stickers 💕

Y/n: what if instead of stepping out of my comfort zone I step into an even comfort zone?

Nat: detka no-

*y/n walks over and snuggles into Natasha's arms smiling*

Nat: great idea detka.

can someone reccommend some sickfics of taylor with sick r please? I feel miserable

this almost made me cry, I'm too soft for this.

Skies Of Grey

Anon Reqs: could you write something with “Honey, have you been crying? What is it? What’s wrong?” and “I’ve got a headache” for natasha?

Mostly angst no plot. Tysm for the request <3

From This List

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"Her vitals are fine?" You asked, eyes practically carving a hole in the screen in front of you. The images, numbers and lines probably burned into your retinas. Harsh neon blues against the transparent screen. "Everything's normal… at least for now." Tony set down the tablet, the screen clanking against the hard surface of the desk top.

"Nothing's normal about this." You bit down on your lip, trying to regulate your emotions, hands balled tightly as you stood up. You needed to pace around, feeling your heart throbbing in your chest or maybe your throat, you weren't sure.

But your whole body felt tight. Like every involuntary action was taking double the work. "Natasha's been unconscious for weeks."

You rubbed at your temples, trying to tame your flared emotions, trying to quiet the throbbing in your head. You took a few deep breaths before turning back towards the larger screen. "And this," you pointed at one of the lines, it was the only one you noticed to be more irregular.

You figured you should've asked about it sooner, but you trusted Tony and Bruce with the science crap. And at this point you trusted them with Nat's life. Trusted them enough.

If you were being honest you weren't sure you could handle the possibility of anymore bad news. But if it were something bad they would tell you…right?

Tony sighed, "her brain activity…" He rubbed at the back of his neck, "has been fluctuating on and off." He watched the steady line for a moment before looking back at you, "without communication or physically being inside Natasha's brain we can't tell if it's just aftershock of the mind control…"

"Or permanent damage." You bit your lip, worrying it between your teeth, "what if she never wakes up? What if her mind is lost or something?" You looked at the lines that were currently steady.

She was alive. Wasn't that supposed to be some kind of saving grace? You thought the worst of it was over.

But here you were. Waiting. And somehow, with each passing day, it was feeling even more hopeless than before. It felt like your stomach and throat were laced with acid. You needed to sit back down. You were getting light headed, the colors on the screen blurring.

"Nat, she's a fighter." Tony stood behind you but didn't offer any sort of comfort in the form of touch; knowing it wouldn't make you feel better. "She shouldn't have to be," you whispered, pinching your eyes shut and somehow still seeing the vital signs behind your eyelids.

"I know." He paused, as if he wanted to say more but knew better. Tony wasn't one for comforting words. Him and Natasha were the same in that way, hiding behind sarcasm and wit even though they very clearly wore their emotions on their sleeve more than they liked to admit.

"Don't give yourself a headache watching that screen." He gave you a gentle bump on the shoulder before leaving you alone with your thoughts. And Natasha vitals.

+

"Natasha." You could already feel the lump forming in your throat, her name a rough croak scraping against your vocal chords.

You'd talked to her so many times over the passing weeks, not sure if she could actually hear you, but this time was different. You knew she could hear you. At the very least you hoped she could. Natasha was awake: that much you did know.

She looked at you, there wasn't recognition on her face, there wasn't any emotion. It almost felt like there was a film over her eyes, she was looking in your direction but you weren't sure that she was actually seeing you.

You watched her chest rise and fall. Steady paced. Like you'd done so many times. Mesmerized by the rethymic motion. The simplest sign of life.

You considered turning around, your body feeling warm and uneasy, throat going dry while the rest of your body felt clammy. The possibility that her memory was lost or altered. The possibility that you were nothing to her while she was still your everything.

Did Natasha even know who she was, you wondered. And somehow that made your chest ache all the more tighter.

"Nat." You swallowed, taking a few steps closer until you were hovering just a step or two shy of her hospital bed.

Natasha blinked, the soft faded color of her irises creeping away, whatever effect lingered seeping away as the emerald returned to her eyes. "Honey." She spoke but something about that word sounded unfamiliar on her tongue, "have you been crying?"

You looked confused, instincitvely wiping at your cheeks, though there were currently no tears left you weren't sure you ever truly stopped crying.

"What is it?" Natasha moved to sit up with a grunt, face contorting into a pained grimace before she accepted the fact that her body was too weak. Instead settling upon reaching for your hand. The palm of her hand ice cold, almost like stone, her grip barely there. "What's wrong?"

You didn't know what she did or didn't remember, but it was clear she remembered you. Or at the very least her subconcious rememebred you enough to be worried. The same worry that plagued you to your core.

"It's nothing," you swallowed finally taking the seat next to her bed, "I've got a headache." It was nothing compared to what she'd faced. What she would have to face; the reality of her mind control. The possibility of having to piece her memories back together like a puzzle.

Natasha smiled, a soft bated breath passing through her lips, she seemed to settle more into her bed, eyes closing, "my head hurts too."