She was back. Natasha was back. Clint could sense it hours before he got the first text message, but he kept the feeling to himself. She'd left five months ago, without a word to anyone. She'd somehow stayed off the news, miraculously, and kept hidden in the shadows.
For the first few months, Clint was confused. He looked for her, hoping that maybe she was just captured or something. He hoped she hadn't left of her own free will. But he knew, in his heart that she had.
He was in his apartment, looking through some old files when he got the first message.
I'm back. Can we talk? it read.
He snorted and threw the phone down on the couch.
The second text came a few seconds later. Natasha was never a very patient woman. He knew that out of experience.
Barton, I know you're ignoring me. I needed to leave.
This time, he didn't throw the phone back, but pocketed it, turning back to the work he was doing, dragging his hand through his hair. He wanted to talk to her, he did. But she'd left, without a sign. He'd asked Hill, he'd asked Coulson, but they'd both kept their traps shut. They said that she'd held them at gunpoint. Blackmail always worked well with Natasha.
He turned his back on his work and walked to the kitchen, yawning tiredly.
The third text did not come until he'd heard a persistent knock on the door.
Open up, it read. He furrowed his eyebrows and made his way to the door, pulling it open wearily.
"What do you want, Natasha?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe, not quite letting her into the old apartment. He hadn't left it after she'd disappeared. It held too many memories of them. There was a time where he'd got shot in the grocery shop downstairs, and she'd literally lifted his ass out of there and pulled him into the apartment. They'd never celebrated birthdays, but on his, she'd go to his apartment for a game of poker. They'd play quietly and she'd sleep at his for the night. It was a tradition. On her birthday, he would sleep at hers. It was just how they worked.
She glared at him for a couple of minutes. "I want to talk." she said after a moment's silence. "Just talk." she repeated, after looking at the look of skepticism on his face.
They'd made a promise five years ago. She'd promised that she'd never ditch him and leave for the Red Room. She'd been bleeding out in his arms, but it was a promise all the same. And he had made sure to promise the same. Until she'd gone and broken it. She'd left, leaving him in the dark for five months.
"Fine then, talk." he said curtly, folding his arms across his chest. She rolled her eyes and glanced around.
She looked good. She looked different and her hair was about an inch shorter. But she looked nice.
"Can I come in?" she asked, with gritted teeth, as if she was annoyed with him. "Please?"
He sighed, pulling the door open for her. He couldn't say no to Natasha. It was a strength and a weakness. They'd known each other for seven years. And since the very first day of their messed up partnership, he'd been unable to say no, or even disagree with her.
She was wearing jeans and a black top when she entered his apartment. It made it seem like she'd been on vacation- she looked well rested…but tired, all the same. She looked clean, but at the same time, her eyes were red with lack of sleep. He took her in carefully as he sat on the couch.
"Now talk." he said irritably.
Natasha sighed, dragging a hand through her hair. "If you really want to know, I needed a break." she said with a simple shrug.
"Don't give me that shit." he countered. "You needed a break, you could've told me and left. Not a big deal. I wouldn't have followed you." But he knew he probably would have, just to make sure she was safe. The Red Room was constantly after Natasha, in the hopes she would go back. But she was always on the run. When they were in Helsinki, Barnes finally tracked them down. But they'd run. And Barnes hadn't found them ever since.
Natasha leaned forward on her elbows. "I needed a break alone. I needed to make sure there was nobody on my ass this time. I needed to make sure you weren't around." she said, her eyes searching his face, for any sign that he'd missed her. Of course he had.
Clint leaned back against the cushions of the couch. "Without me." he repeated, dumbfounded. They'd never said that to each other.
Natasha shook her head quietly. "Without you. Don't take it the wrong way, Clint. Every time I'm around you, you're always getting into trouble. Always." she said, her eyebrows furrowing. "And this whole Red Room issue….I needed to eliminate it without you."
Clint immediately sat up. "Wait, you went after Barnes? Without me? What the fuck is wrong with you?" he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "And here I thought we were partners." he muttered, standing up and walking to the kitchen.
Natasha stood up quietly, following him.
"That's not the point, Clint. I don't want you to die trying to save me, I don't-"
"That's not your decision to make!"
"Barnes is dangerous- you don't understand." she said with a calm and collected tone.
"We're dangerous people too!" he was livid, he was talking fast, and angrily.
Natasha didn't say anything, just stood by the door, watching him as he made himself a cup of coffee. He turned around finally, walking towards her and thrusting the coffee into her hands.
"Our partnership- it means we work together. Like always, Tasha. I can't have you leaving and fighting your own battles alone. I can't have Coulson come and tell me that you were dead without me knowing where you were. I can save you if you let me." he said, moving back slightly to give her room.
Natasha sighed, and looked away. She hated it when he was right. He was so moral, and so painfully correct each time.
"Fine. We'll talk about this later. It's bound to explode out of you again." he muttered irritably. "What did Barnes say?"
Natasha shook her head and turned to look at him. "I didn't find him. I found his little spy though." she muttered. "I mean, Alexei's dead now, but I got some information out of him. He says Barnes is here, in New York. And he's on the look." She took the coffee into her hands and sipped it. She'd missed his coffee- he always knew how to make it right for her.
Clint furrowed his eyebrows. "Fine, we need to get you out of here then. He'll find you soon enough-"
He was cut off by Natasha shaking her head.
"No, Clint. He's not looking for me. He's looking for you."