This fic took me way longer to finish than it should have - blame the Olympics and the fact that it's about four times longer than anything else I have ever written - but it is finally done!
And thanks so much to everyone who has left comments for me, you have no idea how much I appreciate them.
As always, the characters are not mine.
Enjoy!
Natasha stared out the hospital window watching the last streaks of pink and orange fade to navy above the unfamiliar streets below. Months in New York and she had never really bothered to explore beyond the two or three blocks near Stark Tower. Even when she'd been working for Tony as Natalie she'd been driven everywhere in a car with deeply tinted windows that hardly offered the best view of the city. She probably would have had a good view while flying on the back of the Chitauri ship, if she hadn't, you know, been flying on the back of a Chitauri ship. And before the trip to Kabul she was constantly being sent on missions or called back to S.H.I.E.L.D, both of which meant she returned exhausted in one way or another and hardly in the mood to sightsee.
Now, in the aftermath of that worthless mission, she had all the time in the world to wander the streets. All the time and yet no time at all, because with each passing minute that Clint did not wake up, she became more and more desperate, a feeling which had led her to research all that crazy hoodoo in the first place.
She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. "I hope you appreciate this, Barton," she muttered to the glass, then pulled out her phone and called Tony.
"Hello, Natasha, it's been a while."
"Do you know where I can get the bone of a black cat?"
"Why I'm doing wonderfully, thanks for asking. And yourself?"
"Just answer the question, Stark."
"A black cat's bone? Well, that depends. Why do you need it?"
"It's none of your business is why, now do you know or not?"
Tony sighed across the phone line. "Yes. But if I find out you've been using it for illicit deeds, I will… Well, I'll be very disappointed in you."
"Like hell," Natasha replied.
"I'll send you the address of a guy I know who deals in exotic artifacts, he should have what you need or at least be able to point you in the right direction. Just don't let Fury catch wind of any of this."
"Same to you."
"Now, now, it was just friendly concern, you know that."
"Yes. Ok. Fine. You know I won't."
"Good. Nor will I. Now then, you'll have the details by tomorrow morning."
Natasha closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh. "Thank you, Tony. Really."
Tony smiled at the sincerity in her voice. Finally he'd done something right. "Anything for you, Natasha."
Natasha shut her phone and looked over at Clint, motionless as ever on the bed. She sighed, sitting in the chair that had, over the last few months, become her world. She crossed her arms on the bed, resting her chin on her hands and watching Clint's expressionless face.
"That's the last step, Clint. I hope to God this works. Do I hope to God with something like this? Hope to the devil? Well, whoever I'm supposed to be asking I just hope they hear it."
She glanced outside at the darkening sky. She had always preferred night to day. It was quieter, emptier, even here in the city; it was better for stealth and better for thinking. But here in the hospital she had come to hate the night, where all she could hear was the beeping of the monitors, and where her thoughts tended to run to terrifying places. Plus the daylight made Clint look like himself, while by night the harsh fluorescents made him look worse than he was. There was more life in him than they showed. There had to be.
"Tony, how the hell do you even know this man," Natasha muttered to herself the morning following her conversation with him as she walked down the empty street. She had awoken to an email containing the address of a house (out in part of the city she'd never even been to, let alone heard of), directions (confusing at best, although no surprises there), and a message saying, "His name is Charlie, tell him you're Natalie, a friend of Jeff's. Have fun!" Great.
Now, she leaned in to check another barely readable house number. "You know what on second thought," she said as she looked finally upon the correct porch, "I don't want to know." She put a foot lightly onto the first step, then winced as the structure creaked and groaned under her weight shift as she made her way up the rest.
"Oh no, no please," Natasha said, glancing around for a doorbell, "please don't make me knock."
Her wishes were, for once, granted, as just then the front door opened with a scrape and a man appeared behind the screen. His scraggly beard and hair made his age indecipherable, and his voice, deep and even, didn't lend any clues, either.
"Natalie."
"Yes, I'm a friend of Jeff's. You're Charlie?"
"He said you'd be by today." Charlie reached over and pushed upon the rusty screen door, standing aside to let Natasha in. "So you need black cat bones."
Either Tony had told him what she needed, which was likely, or Charlie was psychic, which somehow seemed just as plausible. "Uh, just the one, yes."
"You already got your yarrow and graveyard dirt?" Natasha blinked then stared at the man. "You're not the first demon deal to come my way."
Natasha shook her head. Who the hell was this guy? "Yeah, I have everything else. I just need the bone. Thanks for the offer, though."
"Well here's what I've got. Tail bone's the cheapest but I've been told skull is the most effective. I wouldn't know."
"Right. Well." Natasha looked around the house. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls and stacks of books covered every inch of floor space not necessary for walking. All the labels were obscured by a layer of dust but she could still make out things like "Whale Eardrums" and "Antique French Paperweights (19th C.)" She turned back to Charlie, with his unreadable expression, and said, "I'll just take whatever you have the most of."
"Femur. That'll be $22 flat."
"Thanks," Natasha said, paying Charlie and taking her purchase. As she left, she wrapped it tightly in the brown paper bag then stuck it in her purse, exiting the house onto the still empty street.
She was almost back to the Subway station when Tony called.
"You get your stuff?"
"How did you even know I was there?"
"I have my methods, Romanoff."
"Clearly. But yes, I got what I needed. Thanks, again."
"No problem. Still not gonna tell me what it's for?"
"I have my motives, Stark."
"Touché. See you around, Natasha."
"Yeah, hopefully. Bye, Tony."
Natasha pulled over to the side of the gravel road just as the clock on the dashboard flipped over to midnight. She had gotten to her destination much more quickly than expected, but then, she'd never driven a car quite like that before. Having an all-access pass to Stark Tower did have its perks.
She had left Clint's bedside as reluctantly as ever, with the same instructions to the nurses as ever: Call her if anything, no matter how small, changes. The looks of pity and sadness they gave her anytime she suggested in any way that his condition could or might change was part of the reason she was going through with this ridiculous plan.
Now, she grabbed the box, with cat bone and all, off the passenger seat, along with a small trowel, and stepped out into the road, the slam of the car door unsettling in the empty night.
"Here goes nothing," she muttered, and began digging a hole.
When she placed the box in the ground and covered it several minutes later, as per the instructions, she was sure she had done something wrong. She stood and looked around, but the world still felt the same.
"You know," said a voice from behind Natasha, "we generally like to inhabit the body of someone who would be, shall we say, visually pleasant, for the person making the deal. But there's only one of those for you and it can't quite make that trip. Yet."
Natasha whipped around to face the voice and discovered a woman around her own age staring back, looking entirely disinterested with the situation.
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Natasha asked.
"No matter what you tell the nurses, or the rest of your little gang, or even yourself, you know he's not getting better. That it's only a matter of time before you give up and agree to pull the plug; that all the medical and scientific knowledge in the world still can't fix something like this. Otherwise you wouldn't be here. So if you don't go through with this, it's only a matter of time before that lovely suit of his is free for the taking."
"Too bad for you I'm going through with it," Natasha spat.
"Ah, but is it really too bad for us?" the demon asked, circling Natasha. "You may know nothing of us, but we know an awful lot about all of you. Especially people with your, what was it, specific set of skills?"
Natasha clenched her jaw and stared straight ahead.
"You know, much as I love talking, I have a feeling this is going to be a very one sided conversation."
"You know what I want. Just give me your terms."
"Well, I do love hearing this particular voice," the demon said, continuing to circle, "so here's the deal. We're always looking for people like you down below, but it's not often we actually get to meet. Shame really, I think we'd all have a lot in common. But you'll understand that most, like yourself before tonight, aren't inclined to believe that when they inevitably meet their fate, we're what's waiting. Whatever helps you sleep and all. The fact is the skills you acquire up here mean years less training for us once you do arrive, so you can see why…"
Natasha cut her off. "Just tell me how many years I get."
"Now isn't that just the thing. Much as we would love having your services as soon as possible, it couldn't help but occur to us that you might be of more use to us walking and talking. And, of course, killing. You see, Santa has his list, as we have ours."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that there are some souls we would simply love to get our hands on. And you can send them our way."
"You want me to work for you." Natasha's tone was flat, revealing, at least she hoped as much, nothing.
"It's no different from the work you already do. And who knows, there may even be some crossover. Two birds with one stone. Or is that an inappropriate metaphor here?"
"So you give me a hit list, I take them out, and get to live?"
"As long as you don't disobey orders, you're in the clear. I mean, as much as you ever are. And it would do you well to remember that from now on, these are the ultimate orders. In event of any conflict, you follow us, and no one else."
"And what am I supposed to tell S.H.I.E.L.D? My extra little escapades aren't exactly going to go unnoticed."
"You're a clever girl, I'm sure you'll figure it out. But the logistics of it really don't matter to us, just so long as it gets done. So do we have a deal?"
"What happens when I actually do die?"
"Honey, where do you think you were headed all along? You've been doing this your whole life. At least now you're doing it for a boss whose motives are pure. Good, no, but pure, absolutely. For once, there are no strings attached. Well, no more than the ones you already know about. So. Do we have a deal or not?"
"Just one more condition." The demon raised her eyebrows. "Keep him under until I get back."
A wry smile crossed the demon's face. "Done," she said. "Now, I'm afraid you're going to have to kiss me to seal this. But of course, I'm not your first woman, am I? And I can guarantee I won't be the last."
"If you want it that badly," Natasha replied, "you'll have to come to me."
"Oh when your day comes you're gonna fit in just fine," the demon said. She stepped forward and sealed the deal with what Natasha felt was probably more enthusiasm than necessary.
"See you soon," the demon whispered in Natasha's ear after they separated, then stepped back and with one last smirk, disappeared.
Natasha squeezed her eyes shut tightly, but when she opened them again, the world still felt the same.
It was an hour and a half later when Natasha returned to her place at Clint's bedside and put her head down in her arms on the bed. There had been no call on her drive home, so either the demon had kept her promise, or she would wake up with a strangely carved box still sitting on the bedside table.
She had almost fallen totally asleep when the rapid beeping started. Natasha jumped up, the chair clattering to the floor behind her. She stared in disbelief as Clint began to move, and though she desperately wanted to do something, anything, she was frozen.
The head nurse and an assistant came running in before Natasha could find her voice.
"What happened?" The head nurse asked her, but Natasha just stood there, wide eyed and mute. "Go call the doctor," she said to the assistant, "Now."
Clint continued to move more and more as the nurse checked his vitals.
"How… what… is he…?" Was all Natasha could manage.
"As near as I can tell, he's… well he's fine. Normal. Probably completely out of sorts but otherwise it's like, well, it's like he was just asleep."
The assistant came back in and said to the head nurse, "The doctor wants to talk with you." The head nurse left and the assistant turned to Natasha. "I have to go check on another room. Are you ok with him?"
Natasha nodded, still finding words difficult. She was still standing, frozen, when a mumbled voice came from the bed.
"Tasha?"
But before she could respond the nurse came rushing back in with the doctor and they went to work. After almost constant solitude for weeks, with only one other person besides Clint in the room at most two more bodies suddenly made the place seem incredibly crowded. Natasha stepped out into the hall and slid down the wall to the floor, not even bothering to make in the few feet to the plastic benches across the way. She took several deep breaths before she managed to calm down enough that her hand stopped shaking. As soon as it was steady she took it out and dialed the familiar number.
"Three calls in less than 24 hours," said a voice that sounded all too perky to have been just woken up, but knowing Tony he probably hadn't been asleep, "to what do I owe this grand honor?"
"He's awake," Natasha said, almost inaudibly, "Clint. He's."
"We're on our way," Tony replied and with a click he was gone.
Natasha pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and pulled her knees in close. She was still sitting in the same position 45 minutes later when Tony showed up with Steve, Bruce, Thor, and Pepper.
"How is he?"
"How are you?"
"Has the doctor been in yet?"
"Has he spoken?"
Natasha couldn't distinguish who was saying what, but they all kept asking things. She simply stared up at them from the floor before Pepper rescued her.
"Ok boys," Pepper said, "settle down. Natasha has had a long night and at this point probably knows about as much as we do. It looks like the doctor and is still in there working and if he's anything like our men of science would probably not like to be disturbed right now. So, Tony, Bruce, the nurses' station is just down the hall, why don't you go see if you can dig up any information. And try not to touch anything, Tony? Steve, Thor, go back down to the cafeteria on the first floor and see if you can scrounge up some acceptable breakfast. Meanwhile, Natasha, I brought you a change of clothes, a hairbrush, and a toothbrush. Let's see if there's an empty room nearby we can slip into, those bathrooms are much more comfortable."
Everyone stared at her for a moment before Tony finally spoke. "I'm sorry but how do expect me not to touch anything? Look at all this stuff, it's just begging to be taken apart and modified and upgraded and..."
"Touch anything here and you don't get to touch anything at home," she replied with a look.
"Alright then, let's all see what we can find!"
Once they had all dispersed, Pepper helped Natasha to her feet.
"Thank you for that," Natasha said. "I really appreciate everything you and Tony have done."
Half an hour later everyone was grouped around Clint's bed, watching him sleep. Pepper's missions had been a success and while they didn't know much more about his condition, at least they were fed.
Now, Steve was just in the doorway, checking in with Fury; Pepper had taken up Natasha's usual seat; and Bruce was in the corner with Thor trying to explain once again how Clint's sleep had not been anything like Odin's. Tony and Natasha were standing off to the side of the bed, both feeling tense with the other, but Natasha decidedly morese.
"Well listen guys," Tony spoke up after a while, "it's getting kind of crowded in here and since I'm sure Natasha has spent more than enough quality time with the Hawk, I'm gonna take her to get a little fresh air and leave the rest of you to catch up. Come on, Natasha, a little early morning walk?"
Everyone looked up at them. Natasha clenched her jaw, and her fist, but smiled at the rest of the group. "Sure, Tony, a walk would be just perfect." She gave Tony his own personal smile that he knew from experience meant bad news. But he had one of his own where those came from.
They were well into the park across the street from the hospital before either of them spoke, or even looked at the other.
"Lovely morning isn't it?" said Tony, looking toward the sunrise.
"Charming," Natasha replied. "Care to tell me why I'm not witnessing it from a hospital room?"
"Well call me old fashioned but I've always preferred to observe nature without the lingering scent of antiseptic."
"What do you want, Tony?"
"What did you do, Natasha?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"So you ask me for suspicious favors and the next day Barton wakes up from a coma that medical professionals, including but not limited to Banner and myself, had determined to be permanent."
"You're not a medical professional, Tony."
"I could be if I wanted to! I was accepted to med school, I just chose not to go. I didn't see the point in being tested on things to prove I knew what I already knew I knew and you know what that really isn't the matter at hand."
"Look, I was sitting right there when Clint woke up, in the same chair I've practically been living in for the past few months. If I had believed you all for one second that he was beyond help do you think I would have done that?"
"Romanoff, I don't know why you do most of the things you do, and I doubt I'll be making any great strides in that area any time soon. What I do know, however, is that the puzzle pieces I have are not lining up in any logical way."
"You mean you can't figure out what a black cat bone and a one night stand with one of your lower end cars have to do with Clint waking up?"
"You took the car!?" Natasha gave him her most condescending look. "Right, well, I figured. But that still leads to more questions! Or at least adds to the ones already presented."
"Look, all I know is I was asleep in the same place as always and was awoken by a ridiculous amount of beeping and nurses running in and Clint suddenly waking up."
"The nurses said you were gone for part of last night."
"What, did you think I was driving your car through the halls of the hospital? I had business somewhere that needed doing, so I was gone and then I came back and went to sleep and we've already been over this part."
"Business. How very specific of you, Romanoff, you have such a way with words."
"You know there was a time before there were computers that could be hacked for information, Tony. S.H.I.E.L.D still knows how to keep secrets from you. Technology can't solve everything."
"No, it can't. Namely, it can't seem to solve how Barton woke up with no evidence whatsoever of the brain damage that put him into the coma in the first place."
"Machines can malfunction."
"Machines can, yes, but I don't. And I didn't see any trace of it either."
"So you have x-ray vision now? Impressive. Look, I've told you everything I know."
"No, you've told me everything you can. Or want to. There's no way around the fact that you're keeping something not only from me, but from the rest of the team, too."
"You're the one who's always saying that for this team thing to work at all we need trust. Now would be the perfect time to lead by example and trust that I've told you everything I know relevant to Clint's situation."
"Honesty is also important for this team thing to work. Now you could also lead by example and tell the truth."
"I already have, as much as I can without betraying the boss. Are you willing to pull your weight?"
"Look, I don't want this to become a big thing, Natasha, I just." Tony rubbed a hand over his face and watched as the sun edged out from behind a high-rise. "Fine. Ok. I trust you. So long as you can assure me you're not getting yourself or Clint, or anyone else involved in anything that could jeopardize the team."
"I promise. Now can we please get back to Clint?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
It was several hours later before Natasha and Clint finally had the room alone again. Once the rest of the team had left, there were still fellow S.H.I.E.L.D agents who wanted to stop by, as well as an almost constant rotation of doctors and nurses doing checkups before Natasha finally convinced them that what would really help was some peace and quiet.
Though everything in the room looked the same as it had every day for the past several months, it could not have felt more different. Though Clint looked more or less the same, there was life in the room again, hope that everything was going to be ok.
When Clint finally woke up again, Natasha couldn't have been more thankful they were alone.
Clint rolled his head over to look at her, smiling. He flopped his arm from his chest to hang off the side of the bed.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself," Natasha replied, and as she reached out to take hold of his hand, she couldn't help the grin from spreading across her face, as well.
"How are you?" he asked, rubbing his thumb across the backs of her fingers.
"I should be asking you," she said, still smiling.
"Nah," Clint said, "you know how I am. You probably know too well, if I know Tony and Bruce at all. But I bet no one's asked about you. Unless Pepper was here."
"She was, and she did," Natasha said. She took his hand with both of hers and played with his fingers, staring down at them, silent."
"What's wrong, Nat?" Clint asked.
"Nothing," she responded, still not looking up at him.
"Nat," he said softly, reaching over with his other hand to calm hers.
She looked up now. That voice got her. It always did. "I just." She closed her eyes and swallowed, then took a deep breath. "Last time, with Loki, I knew I could bring you back. I knew that eventually I would find a way to save you, and I did, and everything was ok. But this? There was nothing I could do to stop it. All I could do was sit here and watch and wait and hope but that was it. There was no way to help, no way to fix it, no way to even try. It was so much worse than seeing you with those blue eyes because even then I could tell there was something behind them. But this time there was nothing."
Clint sat up against the pillows and moved over, making room for Natasha to sit beside him. She stayed in the chair at first, watching him, before she slid over onto the bed. He kept hold of her hands the whole time.
"It may have looked different on the outside but inside it was just the same. Then and now, and always, I was just fighting to get back to you. You have to know that. There was nothing more you could have done except be here. Because I think even asleep I could tell when you were here and when you weren't. And the times you were I was fighting even harder to wake up. I'm sure of it."
"Do you promise?"
"Promise."
Natasha smiled. She hooked a foot around the leg of the chair, dragged it over, and propped her feet up on it. She was still holding tight to Clint's hands.
They sat in silence for a moment before Clint spoke again. "Something's still not right, is it?" he asked.
Natasha chewed her bottom lip. She stared out the window at the familiar skyline, bright now in the midday sun. "Is anything ever?"
"Natasha. You can tell me."
She looked up at the ceiling, but Clint kept his eyes only on her. "I don't know that I can. It still doesn't even all seem real."
"What, this?"
"Yeah, this, you, all of it, everything. It's been a weird 48 hours. I think that's how long it's been. I'm not even sure anymore. Of anything."
Clint was silent now, still watching Natasha. He knew she's start again when she was ready.
"What if it happens again, you know? I hardly left you this time and it still took you months to wake up. Even if I never left your side who knows how long it would take, if you would even make it back at all?"
"It's not gonna happen…"
"But what if it does? And you know the doctor's all said, Tony and Bruce and everyone, they all said you were never going to wake up."
"But I did. Because you never gave up on me."
"But what if I did?"
"You wouldn't though. I know you wouldn't."
"Yes but what. If. I. Did? What…" A tear slipped out of Natasha's eye and fell onto the hospital sheet. She pulled her hands away and ran them through her hair. "There's only so much I can do, Clint. And what if one day it isn't enough?"
"Natasha this isn't like you."
"Maybe it is now. I don't know what like me is anymore."
Clint grabbed her arms and turned Natasha toward him. "I do. You helped me come back and I wouldn't be here twice if it weren't for you. So now let me help you. Ok?"
Natasha looked at Clint and nodded. Maybe one day she would tell him the truth about what she had done for him. But it didn't have to be today, and if she didn't want it to, it wouldn't have to be ever. She could tell him or not, and she could accept his help or not. And when he scooted over on the bed, making room enough on the side for, she took it, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Ok."