Hi everyone, so, this is my first ever Avengers story so please bare with me on this and kind of go easy, haha xD Anyways, though, I really hope you like this one-shot that I've decided to work on!

Please enjoy!

I would greatly appreciate it if you would leave a comment/review of your thoughts on the story. All opinions are welcome; I would really love to know what you think of it, thank you so, so much! :)

Also, thank you for reading! ^_^

I OWN NOTHING; I DO NOT OWN THE AVENGERS.

"By Your Side"

. . .

Natasha sits on the chair beside the hospital bed, her light, greenish-grey eyes locked with the man lying on the bed. Her fiery color hair falls in front of her face as she sits there with her arms folded across her chest and her leg slightly bouncing up and down.

She bites her lower lip and ignores the nurses and doctors that walk passed her and around her. The nurses try to tell her she should leave to get some rest or at least something to eat, but Natasha simply ignores them.

She has been sitting in this chair for the last four days and she plans to sit there for as long as she has to until he wakes up.

It was four days ago when Agent Clint Barton was brought back to S.H.I.E.L.D and was immediately sent to the hospital wing of the building. Other agents found Clint and brought him safely back, informing their Director what has happened.

After the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D was informed on Agent Barton's condition, Maria Hill went to go tell Clint's new girlfriend the news; Natasha Romanoff. The two have been going out for a few weeks now; they have really connected and they have so much in common. Both of them know they could count on each other; they trust each other with their lives. Sometimes they both feel like they are the only ones who understand one another.

It was hard for Natasha to open up and finally give in to her feelings to Clint, but she couldn't deny how she felt any longer. She is an independent, feisty, and a determined woman who needs no one, but deep down, despite it all, she loves Clint and he loves her.

The two of them have been growing close, really bonding, that was until he was sent on a mission. He had to go to Russia on a job, but Natasha couldn't go with him; it was a single man mission. Clint, of course, had no problem with that. He knew he was highly skilled and there wasn't anything he couldn't do; he had confidence in himself and his skills, so, he took the job with a grin. Natasha was uncertain at first, not liking the idea of him going by himself, but she had faith in him, so, she kissed him goodbye and watched him get onto the plan and leave.

The job was only supposed to take a day or two, but he was gone a week. The agents of S.H.I.E.L.D began to worry about Clint after not hearing from him. The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D knew something was instantly wrong when a week passed without a word from one of his best agents. He didn't hesitate one minute before calling for back-up to send to Russia, to find Agent Barton.

It did not take long for them to find Clint and when they did, it shocked them all. The Russians managed to kidnap him and restrain him; keeping him their prisoner for a week. They surely did a number on him as well while they had him captured.

The agents found Clint hanging upside down; he was brutally beaten and covered in his own blood. His hands were tied behind his back and they were handcuffed as well. They had a table a few feet away from him that had all different kinds of weapons to torture him with; they had knifes, guns, blades, scissors, ropes, wires, scalpels, and many other dangerous, sharp weapons.

When they found him, he was unconscious and barely breathing. He was covered in his blood and bruises were scattered across his skin. He had many deep wounds from the knives and you could tell the bullet from the guns that were fired may have not went directly into his arm, but it sliced right passed him, cutting his skin.

He lost a lot of blood and honestly, no one even knew if he would make it back to headquarters. However, he did, surprisingly, and now he is fighting for his life while lying on the hospital bed, with Natasha sitting by his side.

His heart stopped last night and the doctors rushed him into surgery. The surgery went well, according to the doctors, and they believe he should make a full recovery. He lost too much blood so they need to keep a close eye on him, is what the doctor last said to Natasha before exiting the room.

Natasha lifts her hand up slowly and places it onto Clint's cheek, caressing it softly. She could feel the tears forming in her eyes, so, she quickly whips them away, shaking her head. She has to stay strong. She has to be strong, for both, her and Clint.

Her eyes shift to the black cast that is wrapped around his leg; he broke his left leg and he broke several ribs. He dislocated his right shoulder and received a sprained wrist on his left arm.

Her hand slowly leaves his cheek and reaches for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. She chews on her bottom lip, slowly tilting her head to the side as her eyes examine his body. When they told her what happened to him, nobody could stop her from seeing him. They tried to tell her to calm down and they would check on him in the morning, when the doctors were finished examining him, but she refused. She stayed in the corner of the room while the doctors and nurses took care of him.

She refused to leave his side.

It is late; almost midnight and she is still sitting in the same spot she has been since the morning. She runs her hand through her hair and sighs, "Why?" The room is empty besides for her and Clint, but she was talking to herself or to his unconscious body anyways.

"Why, Clint?" She closes her eyes, her voice quiet and shaky, "Why did you have to accept this mission and go out on your own." She knew the answer; that was just how he was. He loves his job and he is one of the best agents there are. He loves a challenge and this was the perfect fit for him.

Her fingers trail along the dark spots on his skin; her fingers slightly touching the bruises that have formed on his skin. They slowly begin to move to the scars, her fingers stopping at a few of them while her mind tries to comprehend exactly how he got them.

She swallows the rock that is stuck in her throat and she could feel her body shaking; her fingers are shaking as they rest on his arm. Natasha leans back against the chair and stares up at the ceiling, trying to adjust to all of this. She was brought in four days ago and he has been out cold every day. He hasn't shown any signs of waking up and she is starting to wonder if he ever will.

The doctor told her he received a few blows to the head; he was punched several times and they kicked him hard against the head. She shakes her head again, trying to get the mental image out of her head.

Ever since he was brought back and she took one look of him, she has been having nightmares. She could clearly see the scenes playing in her head of him being beaten and left for dead.

Two days ago Natasha brought a pair of clothes for him to change into, thinking he would wake up right away and be let out of the hospital immediately. She was in denial and she knows it, but she felt better thinking that way.

Natasha ended up putting wearing the outfit she brought back for him. She is wearing his black T-shirt and his baggy grey sweatpants. As weird as it may sound, she felt safe and comfortable in them.

"Clint," She finds herself whispering to the unconscious body, "can you please, please wake up? I know you need your rest, but it's been four days and… and I really need to see you. I mean, I need to hear your voice and I need to have your eyes staring back at mine. I… I need you." She was never the type of person who needed someone, but has the days went on, she slowly began to realize that she does need him.

She looks back at him, her eyes locking with his pale, bruised face, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that. You did not deserve to go through that and you were all alone. I… I'm so sorry." She could feel the tears coming to her eyes again and when she feels the warm liquid slide down her cheek, she finally breaks down. The Natasha Romanoff finds herself sobbing into her hands, silently praying for him to wake up.

"If… if y-you… if you s-stop crying… I'll w-wake up." Clint manages to choke out, his eyes still closed as he quietly and hoarsely speaks.

Natasha's head snaps up from being buried in her hands and her eyes lock with his face. His eyes are still closed, but she could see the slight change in his breathing. He's awake. Finally.

She quickly stands up and pushes a lock of her hair behind her ear. She examines him closely, but he isn't speaking anymore. She narrows her eyes at him, "Clint? Clint, can you hear me?"

He doesn't answer right away and that worries her, but he finally manages to say something after he coughs for a good minute or two, "Mhm… y-yeah, I could h-hear you."

"Oh thank God!" She shrieks and cups his face gently with her hands, "You're awake!" He smiles and slowly his eyes begin to open. When they do open, his smile grows even bigger when he sees Natasha standing right there, her face a few inches from his, and she's smiling back at him.

"H-Hey." He says in a dried voice; his throat is burning and his mouth is dry. He licks his lips and sighs while repeating with another smile, "Hi."

She rolls her eyes at him and sits on the edge of the bed, her smile never leaving her face, "Hi there." Her hand slips into his and he squeezes it; she missed his touch so much. "I can't believe you're finally awake. I… I just can't believe it."

He tries to shrug his shoulder, but that's when he realizes just how much pain his body is in. Sure, they gave him lots of pain medicine while he was unconscious, but he is starting to feel his aching and bruised muscles. He winces at his shoulder and she quickly explains to him that he dislocated it. He sighs and nods his head slowly. Natasha stares down at their joint hands and takes a deep breath, "Clint?" He raises an eyebrow, so, she continues, "Do you remember anything that happened?"

He freezes and she could feel his body tense at her question, which makes her quickly regret it. He is still healing and he just woke up; he shouldn't be interrogated. She shakes her head, "Never mind, don't answer that-" He stops her; his eyes locking with hers. "No… no, it's fine."

She shakes her head again, using her free hand to cup his cheek gently, "No, you shouldn't be discussing this right now. You just woke up and you need your rest."

"Natasha," He begins in a low voice, "I'm not going to be talking about this to anyone else. I… I need to get this out of my system. I am not going to be telling this to the doctors, agents, therapists, hell, I'm not even going to tell Fury about this. You're the only one I trust and I would tell it to and I'm sure once they find out I'm awake, we're not going to have any time left alone together, okay? Just… it's okay, let me. I'm fine, I wouldn't be insisting if I wasn't fine."

As much as she disagrees with him, she nods her head and sighs, "So, you remember?"

He tilts his head a little as he stares up at her, nodding his head, "Yeah, well, yes and no. I sort of remember anyways. I remember waiting in a dark room, waiting for the man I needed to kill before leaving Russia. I had my gun strapped to my leg and my bow was tightly in my hands. I was all ready to attack, but he outsmarted me. Someone found out I was in the building and they were ready for me. I was lazy; I thought it would be an easy in and out mission, so, I let my guard down. There was a back door in the room I was in and I didn't notice it. One man came in through the front door and I killed him, but that wasn't the right man. I realized that when someone hit me on the back of my head with their gun. I fell unconscious and woke up to the man I was supposed to kill. Let's just say, he wasn't too happy about that. I woke up hanging upside down and he was smirking at me, telling me how there are so many ways to torture someone and he would experiment them all on me. Well, he did. He… he made sure he stayed to his word when he told me he would make sure I finally broke and cried out in pain. He said he would make me suffer and plea for my life, something I usually would think I would never do. I did though."

He pauses and looks away from her, reliving the memory in his head. "I never in my life screamed out in pain when someone had me their prisoner. I was rarely a prisoner in the first place, but when I ever did end up in that situation, I knew how to hold in my pain and not show any weakness. He ended up breaking that though. He promised me he would make me beg to stop… I… I did. I couldn't take it anymore. They were literally slicing my skin open, watching and laughing as my blood poured down my skin. They laughed when they shot bullets at me. He promised me I was close my eyes and picture blood. I tried closing my eyes, but they would burn me, making me open them. When they did leave me alone, I would close my eyes and see blood; pools of blood and death. I finally managed to stop seeing that, focusing my attention on something- well, someone else."

Natasha could see the pain in his eyes and she wants to make it go away; she wants to stop him. She doesn't want him reliving the pain, but she knows if he doesn't let all of this out now, he will be living with these demons for the rest of his life.

"When I closed my eyes I thought of you. I pictured the two of us staying in that old cabin you found a few weeks ago after one of our missions. I pictured us laughing and fooling around; I pictured us training outside and chasing each other around in the grass. I pictured both of us just enjoying each other's company and just being together. I sometimes would pray I would just die, but then I thought of your smile and that kept me going. I… I was scared, to be honest. I was alone and scared. I never knew what they planned on doing to me next; I was terrified. Despite all my skills, at that moment, I was powerless. They finally left me to die and I planned on just doing that, but then I thought of how you would kill me yourself if I died on you like that. I knew you would hate me, most likely make sure I'm alive so you could kill me yourself if I gave up just like that. I tried to stay awake, I tried to escape, but I ended up passing out and, well, waking up here." When he finishes, he looks up at Natasha and he could see the look of horror in her eyes.

She was lost with words; what could she possibly say to him after he told her all of that? She shakes her head and tightens her grip on his hand as she tries to let everything he said soak into her brain. Natasha bites down on her lip and swallows hard. She is in pain just by listening to what happened… she could only imagine how much pain he was truly in living it.

"Natasha," He tries gaining her attention, but she has completely zoned out, "Natasha, are you okay?" He tries to lift up his hand so he could touch her shoulder, but he yelps in pain, stopping himself instantly. She snaps out of it at the sound of his painful yelp and she locks eyes with him.

She stares at him, not knowing what to say; not knowing what to do. She finds herself leaning over and wrapping her arms around him, hugging him tightly against her. She closes her eyes and buries her face in the crook of his neck. He can't move his arms to wrap them around her, but he closes his own eyes and smiles at her touch. He missed her so, so much. He missed having her arms around him; he just wishes he could wrap his own arms around her.

She pulls away, but keeps her face only inches from his. He watches her; his eyes examining every inch of her face. He smiles and quietly says, "Natasha, I…" He suddenly stops and she raises an eyebrow at him. His throat is burning and he feels dizzy.

"Clint, are you alright?" She asks, the palm of her hand resting against his sweaty forehead. He slowly nods, "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just dizzy."

"Let me go get a doctor-" She starts, but Clint shakes his head, "No, wait." He shakes his head and forces himself to lift up his arm, ignoring the massive amount of pain, and he caresses her cheek softly. She could see how pain he is from doing that and she goes to stop him, but he stops her, "Natasha, I love you."

She stares at him, blinking her eyes, trying to figure out what he just said. She watches the corner of his lips curve into a smile and he nods his head as he repeats himself, "Natasha, I love you so, so much. I… I need you. I need this." He then pulls her head down so he could press his soft lips against her own.

At first, she's in shock at what just happened, but then she kisses him back; she missed his soft, warm lips so much. She missed feeling his lips against hers. She missed him.

Natasha kisses him back and his tongue slowly slips inside her mouth. Their kiss gets heated and the passion grows, but she knows he's out of breath and he needs his rest. She slowly pulls away and rests her forehead against his. She gently grabs his hand and pulls it off her cheek, resting it back on the bed. Natasha smiles at him and kisses his lips again before quietly whispering back to him, "I love you too, Clint."

He grins and goes to say something, but she stops him, "But, you need your rest. You've been through a lot and you need to get some sleep. I promise though, I won't leave your side. I will always be by your side, no matter what… okay? I'll be here when you wake up." She kisses his cheek softly and then curls up against his body, lying down beside him on the bed. He smiles down at her and nods his head, slowly closing his eyes so he could fall asleep and get some rest.

Natasha stays lying there, pressed against him with her head resting on his good shoulder. She has her eyes closed while she, too, tries to catch up on lost sleep. Clint watches her for a few minutes, admiring her. He kisses the side of her head and then closes his own eyes. He has her by his side and that's all that matters to him at the moment. He smiles, knowing she will be by his side when he wakes up, and then with that, he finally falls into a peaceful night's sleep.