Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, only the story.
I got this idea while I was at the grocery store. Needless to say, my mom wasn't very pleased when I quit pushing the cart to grab my phone and type a memo about the story to myself. But, you know, when inspiration hits, inspiration hits.
Natasha knocked on the door once before flinging it open. She walked into Clint's bedroom, where he was lying upside down on his bed, his feet propped up on his pillow, gently running his fingers along the smooth surface of his bow.
"What's up, Nat?" Pulling himself out of his own world and back to reality, Clint looked up at his friend. For now, although he hoped it would be more eventually, the two of them were just close friends.
"I need to run down to the store to grab some groceries, and I was hoping you could accompany me." Natasha Romanoff stated.
Clint sighed. The two of them lived on the fourth floor of the Avengers Tower, along with Dr. Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Steve, and, occasionally, Thor. This week it was Stark's turn to do the groceries, and it was no surprise that it hadn't gotten done.
"Um, I would love to, but not today, Nat." Clint hoped she would get the hint. He just wanted to be alone so that he could slip back into his world of self-hating.
"Why not?" Natasha asked. Of course, Natasha completely understood why Clint didn't want to go, and until he came out and told her, she would not leave him to continue hurting himself like that.
"I'm not feeling well. I have a slight head cold." Clint lied easily.
Natasha was slightly surprised and disappointed. One, he hadn't admitted to what he was doing, and he was just locking everybody else out. Two, didn't he know by now that Natasha knew just by hearing his voice when he was lying?
"Please, don't let me take up your time. Do go on. Perhaps Steve will join you." Clint, being the total opposite of what he usually was, was the picture of courtesy, even escorting the young agent out.
"Clint-" Natasha began, but the door was shut in her face even before she could finish.
Natasha decided that she would finish shopping and then come back and force Clint up, if it was the last thing she did.
Clint lay back down in bed. He had lied to Natasha, and she knew it. The real reason he hadn't wanted to come was that he hadn't wanted to be someone's company, to put on a mask. Every day when he saw someone, even Nat, he had to put on an act, make them all believe that he was alright, on the road to recovery, doing ninety. It wasn't easy being taken over by a demigod maniac, but he had to convince them that he was fine. He even had Natasha fooled, but some days he just needed to be Clint, needed to break down let himself wash away in every weakness that he needed to hide in public.
So it was this side of him, this part of Clint that was true and real, and not forced, that fell asleep on his bed.
When the door slowly creaked open, the agent was so deeply buried in all of Clint's wounds, that he didn't wake up. Natasha stood there, with a stern look on her face, her angry speech already rehearsed and perfected, when she saw him.
He was laying there, his bow lightly held in his right hand, his left arm serving as a pillow. Natasha stood there, weighing her options, before striding over silently to him. She lightly plucked his bow away from him and set them on the table, then pulled out two pillows from underneath his feet. She settled one under his arm, and patted the second one next to him. She took a deep breath, calming her nerves and then kicked off her shoes and climbed in, pulling the blanket over her and Clint.
Somewhere in between Nat pulling his bow away and pushing a pillow under his head, Agent Clint had reawakened, and taken charge of the situation. He had tensed for a moment, and then quickly relaxed as he caught sight of Nat through his eyelashes. He knew that if she realized he was awake, she would back off and he would be left alone. He did not want to be left alone.
Clint waited until Natasha had closed her eyes and gotten into a comfortable position before gently shifting and draping an arm around her, pulling her closer to him. He put his face in her hair and gently breathed in her shampoo, for once forgetting his problems. His whole dealing with Loki taking over his mind could wait. Just tonight, he would sleep without any nightmares, with his guardian angel in his arms.