Kind of "five times"
She pulled out dart from his back. Whatever it was carrying is already in americans bloodstream, so no big loss but will look good in eyes of higher ups. Also pulling out dart allows to roll over archer on his back.
Natasha do not want to miss moment when he dies and she is free again.
The room she half dragged her guard slash partner is some kind of office. There is archive shelves, two workstations with framed pictures and every flat surface is covered with potted plants. All rundown and old fashioned what combined with lack of surveillance system is what attracted Widow to this place. When you are carrying someone twice your weight prone to loose consciousness every now and then, place to crash is primary concern. And this crappy office seems like gift from god – in office like this people stash useful things, unlike chrome and glass filled modern ones.
Agent Barton drools and tries to speak up, but sounds he makes are indistinguishable. Paralyzing component, she mentally catalogs away findings. At least there will be no screaming, begging to deities or spilling of darkest secrets and thank god for that, her patience should be enough to wait till he dies before running, but pre-death verbal diarrhea could make Widow put a bullet in his head. And that would set that SHIELD after her with extra zeal.
"Hush" she says putting hand on his lips in universal sign for silence. "I will look around for supplies, keep silent. Nod if you understand"
Natasha feels light nod under her fingers. Damn, he is conscious, just paralyzed, she frowns from thought alone. There is not a lot worse things then becoming prisoner inside own body, but whatever they had in that dart should run its course in next few hours, so with sunrise Natasha can be on her way.
As promised she checks both workstations. The one on left has monitor decorated with sparkly hearts and framed puppy pictures, on right – pictures of family along with terrible sculpture of Holy Mary. Sparkly and Holy, she mentally christens the workers and as expected, Sparkly has herbal tea in her desk drawers, package screaming Detox and weight-loss! Guaranteed! Next to tea is king size chocolate bar. Irony, your name is office plankton, she laughs taking chocolate and tea. Holy don't have any snacks, but her drawer has woolen shawl, big enough to be used as blanket. Natasha grabs that too.
Agent Barton is still in same position as she left him, slightly drooling, breathing more labored then before. Not good, she thinks. If he asphyxiates, SHIELD will know Black Widow was not even trying to save him. Barton is heavy and poison stiffens his limbs, but she manages to put him in recovery position. It takes few kicks, but its not that he will have a chance to complain about rough treatment.
Sure that he will not drown in own drool, Natasha raids rest of office and is rewarded with small electrical kettle, hidden from boss in archive shelf. There is still some water what means she will have hot tea to pass time till death comes.
If anyone would ask Natasha why she is still here, waiting him to die, instead of running away now, she would have nothing to reply. Can one of best assassins and spies in world admit that she made a promise and some part of her are bind to keep it? "I don't kill you and you come to work with me" is an offer you do not refuse when your hand and leg is pinned to floor with arrows and shooter is standing over you, ready to put third through your eye socket. So in her mind Natasha's debt for her life expires with his last breath.
The night is cold and office heating is set low for weekend, so she hugs tea cup careful to not waste even bit of warmth. Still the draft winds are running free and if she could, she definitely would get cold after spending night like this.
Trying to cover every part with Holy's ugly brown shawl Natasha plans. She will leave Bartons corpse covered with same shawl, autopsy will reveal that dart killed him and that Natasha took desperate measures to revive him, including CPR what will break ribs and then scared and inconsolable after loosing her first partner in second operation together, run away in darkness to never be seen again. Sure, SHIELD will try to find her, but half heartily since it will be obvious that she didn't killed Barton, more so, she tried to save him. Then, if she stays away from crossing SHIELD path again, she is as good as it can be in her profession.
She checks archers pulse. A bit hectic and weaker then it was before, but far from stopping. Breathing is shallow, but still there, despite full face and limbs paralysis. His eyes are open and panic in them tells he still sees everything. As small mercy, she closes his eyes. The movement seems strange, like something you do at wake. He is also hot and don't seem even in slightest affected by cold and Natasha envy that. Barton could be the one barely keeping tremble away, he is paralyzed and about to die, so no big loss.
"Oh fuck it, its not like you will live past dawn," she says patting his cheek. She is cold, he is running fever, living take precedence over dead, so before he kicks the bucket, hot body can be useful. Natasha weasels her way next to him, sitting with her back against his stomach, Bartons leg warming her side.
Its hallmark moment, she snickers. Russian killer siting in bend of american assassins body, covering with infant diarrhea colored shawl, drinking weight loss tea, eating milk chocolate like slice of bread and waiting her partner to finally die.
Warm and content, Natasha allows herself to drift in sleep, before that securing pencil between archers teeth, so he will not bite off his tongue if death comes with spasms. When she wakes, exactly an hour before planned evac, she is met by gray open eyes. Damn, the dart was meant for her, paralyzing dart to bring their wayward daughter home. Plus its her negligence to check on what poisons SHIELD build tolerance in their agents.
"Next time," his voice is barely whisper.
Next time you will die and I will be free, she agrees in her thoughts.