Hii! I know this is reaalllyy short. Have no fear though! I will post the next chapter tomorrow (7/12) and the latest would be the 13. I felt like the prologue should stand by itself. I know it's really short, but if you have any critiques or want to review, it really makes me feel good :D Tell me how you feel, and I hope you life it!
Romance was never in the equation. It was never something they admired. It was a frivolity- a third party attempt to weaken the mind. It was never the binding factor in the promise of protection. Blood was. Blood was thicker than water. It hung in the air between them. Her ledger may have been wiped of scarlet, but it did not constitute that their hands were given the same pardon. And they paid the price. They carried the burden. They were paralyzed in sleep by sweat filled night terrors, the only comfort was retreat into the arms of their partner.
In the mornings following such events, Natasha would always say she was thankful for the nightmares. She said it let her know she still held humanity, no matter how contorted it may be. It reassured her she wasn't a machine. That in the depths of her mind, remorse was still prevalent.
Clint would wake with nail marks indented into the palms of his hands. Unfurling his fingers, he would find it hard to move the digits, the muscles sheathing his form spasming as they stretched like brittle canvas. He never voiced it, but disagreed with Natasha's open acceptance of never getting a rested night of sleep. He knew what it felt like to be undone. To be broken and never know if a coherent thought was possible again. He knew what it meant to be the guest in your own skin. To be obliterated in the very seams of existence.
These assaults upon their psyches made it easier to commit to each other. Even if it was to stay strictly platonic. To never unstitch the barriers that were in place for a reason. At least that is what they divulged to whoever asked. But in reality, who knew if that was the truth? They were labyrinths created only for each other. Hedge mazes with unfinished ends. And that is what made them the most incredible people out there; their complete realization that humanity, will one day burn to the ground. And yet, they would never think of giving up saving others. Even if they were never thanked.
This story does not have the ending you were hoping for. But truly, what in life ever does? This is not a fairy tale. Or a romance. What you come across is the story of Clinton Barton and Natasha Romanoff- people that have intertwined with other's lives than they would have ever thought. This odyssey has been derived from journals collected from the belongs of Clint. Director Fury gave me the honorable, but sad task of compiling personal narrations, anecdotes, conversations, and interviews of the subjects and fellow colleagues- who in, turn had become their family. My assignment is to bind these leaflets of broken lives into a final volume. One to never be forgotten.
This is Virginia Pepper Potts, signing off.
Dedicated to Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, and every other agent that made the choice
of living their work.