(I swear I don't set out to make all my fics angsty!depressing. I guess it's just how I'm wired...)

When all is said and done and he’s got an idea of just how badly their bodies have been beaten and just how much she’s sacrificed to bring him home, they end up in a shitty bar in Hells Kitchen, one of the only places that’s still open and far enough away to not have been demolished by Tony’s repulsor rays or Thor’s lightning or Steve’s vibranium shield or Clint’s arrows or Natasha’s guns or Bruce’s fist. It’s one of those places Clint would’ve found himself frequenting a few years ago, before life really turned itself around, when he would leave the S.H.I.E.L.D. office afterhours and wander around aimlessly until he found the seediest possible bar with the seediest possible waitress, a broken jukebox and rundown décor.

Natasha slides into the seat nearest the door and he slides onto the stool next to her, orders two shots of vodka and knocks them both back without comment. When Clint goes for another round, he pushes one in her direction.

“Hell of a way to toast the end of the world,” Clint says, raising a glass before he drinks. And drinks, and drinks, and drinks. Natasha clinks her glass back and says nothing, her eyes bright with tears she can’t quite shed.

Later, she carries him home and holds him while he cries.

Read more on AO3 (http://archiveofourown.org/works/1194546)

Awww. This feels really real - good thing they have each other as support.

They do! And that's one of the things I hoped came across :) Natasha will always be there for Clint :)