Author's note:

Hello everyone!

Thank you for deciding to give this story a shot. It's the first thing I have published on this page and before you start to read please notice a few things:

1. English is not my mothertongue. I do read a lot in English and watch movies and stuff but still I am not perfect in English and there will be mistakes. I am still figuring this page out and I still have no idea how to get a Beta.

2 Of course I like to hear if you like my story, my writing etc. but I am also happy about constructive criticism. Feel free to tell me what you don't like but please don't be mean.

Okay, that being said one last thing before the chapter starts.

This fanfiction is supposed to be a collection of one or twoshots centered around Natasha's and Clint's friendship. There will be more, if you like.

And now enjoy reading!

Chapter 1

Not a ghost story

When the bullet rips through her abdomen all the air is forced out of her lungs. She turns to see the engineer drop. The bullet went through her and into his stomach. He is already crumbled on the street his already wet shirt starting to soak with blood. Her look slides down her own body, where blood is not dripping but gushing out of her wound. A hand clutches the entrance wound to stop the bleeding but deep down she knows it is no use if she can not cover the exit wound. She drops to her knees, half because she needs to check on her protege and half because her legs can't supprot her anymore. While she searches for his pulse on his throat she turns her head to look for the shooter. But he is gone. Her fingers on his throat tell her why. His job is done, the scientist is dead. He has no use for SHIELD anymore.

Nausea starts to well up in her and she closes her eyes. She can still see his statue. The metal arm, the long brown hair, the promise of death in his eyes. No ghost story. She should tell Clint when she comes home. A sharp pain on her abdomen makes her waver. Probably she is not going to make it home at all. Her hand is sticky with her blood and there is a big pool beneath her already. She tries to get up and barely makes it to her feet before the world starts turning. She doesn't know how but she manages to stay upright. She needs to radio in, she needs to get going. Her wrist raises to her mouth. "This is Black Widow...anyone...copy?" The comm crackles alive. It's Phil. She has never been more happy to hear his voice. "This is Control One. I copy. What's your status."

"The engineer is down. I couldn't...", she starts coughing so violently her knees give way again and she slumps to the ground. Blood is dripping out of her mouth. She wipes it away with her shirtsleeve. "Widow? Health status?", Phil's voice is concerned.

"I'm hit. He shot him through me", she rattles a breath trying to steady herself and failing. Her vision shrinks. She knows she needs to get away from the street but she cannot draw the strength. "Who? Who shot you? Where are you?" She can hear engines in the background, she knows they're on their way. "Winter Soldier", she manages to grint out. "He got away, I couldn't-" Her voice fails. She can't breath. She knows she's losing too much blood. She needs help.

"Okay, breathe! Listen to my voice and breathe. We tracked your location, we're on our way, hold on!"

Relief washes through Natasha and the adrenaline is slowly fading. It takes her a few seconds until she realises that she is no longer on her knees but lying on her stomach face turned to the left. She can see the body of her protege and suddenly wonders if this is the last sight she will see. Her last failure, the person she could not save, the mission she didn't finish. She can feel the life drain out of her.

"...-alk to me...NATASHA!" Phils voice comes back to her, dim like through a thick veil. "I'm here", she manages to whisper. "You need to stay awake. Hold on we are almost there." She is trying. But she feels that she is losing the fight. Phil talks on, but she can't understand his words and she can't respond. At some point she realises she isn't alone anymore. There are people, strong hands turn her around, she hears voices, feels hands over her body. The second they apply pressure on her wound a sharp pain brings her back to the surface. She cries out, her body convulses upwards and strong hands catch her, try to ease her back down.

The voices become clearer.

"We need a transfusion, she's lost too much blood."

"Try holding her still!"

"Get her some painkillers!"

"We need to move her now. She won't make it if we don't get her into surgery."

"Natasha! Hey, Natasha look at me!" Phil's voice is close to her left and her eyes try to focus. He is there. His face frowning in worry but he tries to reasure her. Tells her she will get home, tells her she will survive this, tells her she is not alone. She feels a sting on her left arm and as she looks down she sees a syringe sinking into her skin. Suddenly her eyelids are heavy, her head feels foggy, the pain becomes dull. She tries to fight it, pushes her body to the edges to not lose control.

"Don't fight it, Natasha. We're here. I'm here. I've got you."

And then she slips from conciousness.

The very moment Clint sets a foot into HQ he knows something is not right. He sees the looks of higher agents, hears the murmurs that stop when he is close. He doesn't understand though until he runs into Hill somewhere near the shooting range.

Natasha has been shot during a mission. She is not stable, fighting for her life. Phil is with her, keeps the base infromed every hour. They found her on a street, bullet hole in her abdomen, lying limp next to the nuclear engineer she was supposed to bring in. Her blood had been spilled all over the asphalt, the shooter out of sight. She has barely made it to the hospital. She is still in surgery but the doctors are not confident, preparing for the worst. Now the whispers make sense, these hushed conversations. Conversations that are about Strike Team: DELTA breaking apart, because Natasha is dying.

No. Clint straightens himself. She is not, she's been through worse. She'll make it. He is not done with her. He needs to tell her that Lila was born three days ago. He has to tell her she is looking like Laura. He needs her to celebrate with him. This was supposed to be a nice visit at the base. Telling her he was a father again.

Without permission he heads for the hangar, gets into his favorite jet and takes off. Nobody questions it. They all know where he is heading. On his way he calls Laura and explains the situation. "I need to be with her", he tells her, feeling guilty for leaving his wife with their newborn daughter but Laura is understanding. She always has been. And she worries as much as he does.

"I know. It's fine. Bring her home!", she tells him before he ends the call. The rest of the flight he is worrying. That he might be too late, that he won't get a chance to say goodbye, that she can not win this fight. The minute he steps through the hospital doors Phil is there to greet him. He looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and his skin grey.

"How is she?"

Phil sighs. "She took a really bad hit. The bullet went all the way through her body and took down the engineer. It ruptured everything in it's way. She lost a lot of blood. They don't know if she will wake up." It feels like the ground is shaking. She has to see Lila. She has to celebrate every birthday with her, every birthday with Cooper, with him and Laura. He needs her to be there.

"Is she out of surgery?"

Phil nodds. "Yes about half an hour ago. She is in the ICU now but I made sure you can get to her."

Being her brother. That's their alibi. It's ridiculous, they do not look alike but no one questions it. He sits with her not moving for the entire night. Nobody asks him to leave, nobody talks to him at all, or maybe they do and he just does not realise that they address him. The only thing he sees is her face. A bit paler than usual but everything else is the same. She has no other injuries which is a miracle after what Phil told him about her mission.

After getting her protege out of the safehouse there had been several cars on her tail. Somewhere at a bridge they finally managed to push her off the road and she had been falling into the river trapped in the car. She had made it out of there though, taking the engineer with her, getting back on the road, but he had been there. The Winter Soldier. They had been making fun of it before. He's a ghost story, they had said. The ghost story has almost killed her.

Clint takes her hand and pulls it to his forhead. He is shaking, drawing in deep breaths to calm him. She feels cold, already lost.

After 20 hours at her bed Phil insists that he should get up for a little while, walk around, get a coffee. He only agrees because he wants to call Laura. It's 2 a.m. but she answers the phone after the first ring.

"How is she?"

"Not good. She hasn't woken up yet. The doctors say she probably won't...", his voice fails him. After hushed promises and reassurances he ends the call, buys a coffee in the cafeteria and heads back to her room.

It's crowded. Machines are wailing, nurses and doctors shouting. For a second Clint doesn't realize what is happening. Then he sees the flat line on the monitor that resembles her heartbeat. He sees the doctor pressing on her chest in regular patterns. He sees the paddles in the hands of the nurse waiting for the doctors request.

Suddenly Phil is there dragging him out of the room. Talking to him, but Clint doesn't comprehend. His blood is pounding in his ears, he can't feel his legs. Her name escapes his lips, barely a whisper in disbelief. She cannot die on him. She can't. She's his best friend. She can't die. The minutes drag on. Through the window he can see the doctors working on her, their faces getting darker with every second. And then suddenly they stop. The doctor doing the CPR is shaking his head and lifting his hands off her chest. There is no heartbeat.

Before he even decides anything Clint is back in the room, pushing the nurses aside. His hands are on her chest within the next second, pushing rhytmically. He is screaming at her not to give up. Begging her, pleading. The doctors are too surprised to hears Phil calling to him but he can't stop. He can't lose her. He bows over her and tilts her head, breathing for her, then pumping her heart again. "Natasha, please!"

She coughs. He is startled, stops his actions while the others spring into motion again. An oxygen mask is over her nose, a doctor is checking her pulse, the monitor shows a rhythmic hearbeat. He is brushed aside while they work on her. He can't move. Standing at her left side he just stares at her. Suddenly something cold touches his hand. Her fingertips are reaching for him. Her eyes are open, she looks at him.

He catches her hand and squeezes. She squeezes back. I'm here.

A sob escapes his lips and he realises he has been crying.