Oh how I missed writing fanfics! First time to write an Avengers fanfic. This first chapter's kind of short. It's experimental in fact. Okay, I don't own the Avengers. And don't worry, Natasha will become more… emotionless in the next chapters.
Natasha stared into space as she lay in the top bunk in her room in Stark Tower. One would think that after two months she'd finally be able to get some sleep. Unfortunately, being traumatized doesn't work that way.
Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see were images of death. Destruction. And her conversation with Loki would replay. So what if she did it to get information? That doesn't mean he didn't send a chill through her and a shiver down her spine.
There's one person Natasha cares about. And his name's Clint Barton.
"You're awake, aren't you Nat?" She heard said man's voice in the bunk below her. She rolled her eyes even if she knew that he couldn't see her.
"What do you think idiot?" She replied and heard him chuckle lightly, making a faint smile appear on her face. "So, why are you still awake?"
Clint shrugged. "Same reason you are. I can't sleep."
Even without him telling her, she already knew what he dreamt about. Him being controlled by Loki. Killing her slowly and having the rare guilt wash over him when he wakes up from the spell. A complete and utter nightmare.
Natasha sat on the edge of the bed, letting her legs dangle. "It's not even midnight yet." She said with a frown.
Clint smiled to himself as he watched the numbers of the digital clock on the bedside table turn from 11:59 to 12:00. "Uh, yes it is." He argued.
He got up and turned on the light. He faced her. He was on the other side of the room, but they were no more than eight feet away. A grin was pasted on his face.
"Happy birthday Natasha."
She gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. She couldn't stop a tear from escaping her eye. She usually prides herself on being unemotional, but aroud Clint, he sees her for who she is. He sees her for Natasha and nothing she does will ever change that.
"I can't believe you remembered." She said, for once, at a complete loss for words. Only Clint has ever, and will ever, be able to make her feel that way.
He carried her down and helped steady her. But even when her feet were properly planted on the floor, she continued to cling onto him like dear life itself. Her head was buried in the crook of her neck. He noticed how her cherry red smelled of aloe vera shampoo and a little bit of something that must have been blood.
"How could I forget?" He said with a small chuckle. "If there's one person who'll remember you're birthday, it's me."
She hugged him even tighter. "Thank you Clint." She whispered, letting more tears fall. It felt so good to let go in front of him. Even through her tank top, she could feel the heat radiating off of his bare upper body.
Clint let go of her and wiped away her tears with his thumb. He took out something from the pocket of his gray sweatpants. It was a small rectangular metal box. "Gift one to twenty." He said and handed it to her.
It was tradition of Clint's to give Natasha the same number of gifts as her age. Natasha had once called it silly. "Well, if there's one thing that I don't want to say constant, it's the number of gifts I give you every year." He responded with a shrug.
She opened the box and laughed when she saw the 20 precious blue pills in the box. Sleeping pills that he must have stolen from somewhere in the building. "You always know what I want." She said with another laugh.
He grinned again. "Drink one and I'll give you the rest of your gifts in the morning." He told her gently, hand on her arm.
She nodded. She's never been one for following orders, especially Clint's. But who is she deny such an order?
She took one out of the box and swallowed it. She put the rest in underneath Clint's matress. If ever someone discovered the missing pills, at least she wouldn't be blamed.
She got back in bed just as sleepiness washed over her. "Don't worry, I'll let you beat me up in the morning." Cint said and Natasha just rolled her eyes.
"Like I ever needed your permission." She said before drifting off to sleep.
When Clint saw that she was truly in a deep sleep that even he could not disturb, he brushed some of her hair away from her face. If he ever tried something like that while she was still half awake, he was sure to get a good beating.
And with that, he sighed. He was going to have a long day.
Hoped that y'all liked it! I swear, I'll make the next few chapters better. I'm just happy to be writing again.