Natasha staggered in, collapsing under her own weight. She hit the ground with a startling thud. She tried to pull herself back up, but her attempts were futile. She was dizzy. Her vision was darkening. She passed out there on the cold tile.
"Nat!" Clint was extremely surprised to see his partner, who had been pronounced dead three months earlier, she has been MIA for 7 months. He rushed to her side. Carrying her to her untouched room, he noted the vast quantities of cuts and bruises covering her body.
"Clint?" It pained her to open her eyes, but she had to know he was there.
"Hey. It's me. I'm here." He tried to take her hand to reassure her, but she cowered away from his touch.
"No. Don't touch me." she whimpered.
"Nat, what's wrong? It's me."
"You don't know what they did to me. For seven months, I was beaten and they... They...," She broke down into sobs. She couldn't bring herself to say the word. Clint understood.
"You don't have to say it." He yearned to hold her in his arms for months and now that she was here, he couldn't touch her to comfort her. He watched her cry and she slowly made her way over to him.
"Hold me. Please." She pleaded. He wrapped his arms around her and they stayed that way until she fell asleep. He layed her down and was about to get up to leave when she said," Stay with me."
"Of course I will." He responded. She drifted back to sleep protected in his strong arms.
