Lost in the seas of forgotten memories
Chapter 1
She slowly came back to consciousness, but her training kicked in and caused her to still appear to be sleeping. She assessed her situation from inside out. She didn't feel any serious pain but her left arm was numb. She didn't hear any indication that she was in trouble – all she really heard was the soft buzzing of a machine. After concluding that she was safe for the time being she let her eyes flicker open and looked around. She was definitely not in a cell. She was in a white room, in a white bed, with white sheets while wearing a white gown. Call her crazy but she thinks she's in a hospital. She looked out the window that ran along the side wall and she could see into a busy hall full of medical personnel along with many dark suits. Ah. She was in SHIELD medical. Well that was an even worst fate that being captured by the enemy.
"Hello Natasha – welcome back," someone said from her left. She glanced over and instantly recognized the telltale SHIELD medical uniform the man was wearing. Ugh she hated doctors. Even more then she hated paperwork.
"What happened?" she asked carefully – her voice sounded coarse from misuse. That meant she must have been out for a while.
"You had an accident during your last mission. You have a broken rib, a sprained wrist and a severe concussion," the doctor said slowly – as if he was assessing her from the inside out. She let that information sink in and then a worrying thought instantly crossed her mind.
She suddenly sat up and stared at the doctor. The dizziness was still there near the back of her head but she needed to stay focused long enough to know one important detail.
"If I had an accident - where's agent Barton?" she asked trying to beat down the worry that should not be in her voice. She just needed to be sure. The doctor seemed to anticipate her response and pointed over to the window.
"He's right outside – been there all day. Should I let him in?" he asked though something told her he already knew her answer. She nodded slowly and leaned back against her pillow. She ignored the tightness in her chest that finally loosened as she watched a scratched up but still breathing Clint Barton carefully walk through the door. She paused as she saw the concern and worry in his eyes as clear as day. He never looked at her with that much emotion before – it was dangerous. He sighed in relief when he noticed her looking at him.
"Thank god you're finally awake. You had us all worried for a second. How are you feeling?" he asked anxiously as he approached the bed she was forced to lie on. She shrugged and then winced from the action – something was definitely up with her arm.
"Like I got run over by a train?" she said dryly. He chuckled – that threw her off even more.
"You got thrown through a glass door and fell down an elevator shaft. You should start feeling it by now since the meds will start wearing off soon," he said apologetically. She snorted.
"Joy," she said warily. However in the back of her mind she thought offhandedly 'I do not remember that part.'
"She's going to be alright, right Doc?" Clint asked without looking away from her eyes for even a second. Natasha stared back at the emotions she didn't want to name swirling in his blue eyes. The doctor either ignored the impromptu staring contest or was just too tired to care.
"She'll be fine once I run her through some tests. Stand down Barton – crowd her and I'll kick you out," the Doc said giving him a pointed look.
"Sorry," Clint muttered as he stepped back and gave the doctor the space to move around and pick up his tools to start his tests. Natasha sighed – she really hated this post-missions crap. Clint noticed her long suffering look and smiled sympathetically at her. Her face went blank – she didn't need his sympathy. She'd rather he broke her out – highly unlikely as it were.
"Alight, so we're going to run through some routine tests okay?" the doctor said as he took out a flash light and started running a preliminary check up on her vitals and physical responses.
"Like after every other mission?" she asked warily. The doc gave her a weak smile.
"Just protocol Agent," he said taking out his charts. She sighed and let him continue to poke and probe at her like she was some damn science experiment. Medical always made her feel like she was drowning in white. She preferred darkness by far. Clint leaned against the wall across the room and silently watched the checkup continue. He smiled to himself when he saw her give the Doc the evil eye when he poked her wrong way.
She passed all of the tests easily – as if she hasn't done them a hundred times already.
"Okay that went as well as we hoped - now for some basic memory questions okay?" he said as he took a chart out. Natasha glared at the offending piece of paper in the Doc's hand like it was somehow the one responsible for her stint in Medical.
"Come on Tasha – the faster you get through this the faster we can get out of here," Clint said urging her lightly. She would have scowled at him and responded with a scalding remark if she didn't freeze up at the nickname – something was…off.
"You okay Tasha?" Clint asked furrowing his brow as she tensed. She's been acting weird – but then again she just woke up from a concussion.
"I'm fine…" she said carefully. She thought she was fine.
"Ready for the questions Agent Romanoff?" the doctor asked as he looked up. She nodded.
"Yes…" she said slowly tearing her eyes away from her partner's worried ones.
"Okay let's start. What's your full name?" he asked with his pen ready to check off all the boxes.
"Natasha Romanoff," she answered carefully. She glanced back at Barton and noticed little things she should have caught before. His hair was longer then she remembered. The scars that ran along his uncovered arms were more faded then she remembered. He was slightly different then she remembered.
"Where were you born?" the doctor's voice continued to float through into her left ear.
"Russia," she said without looking away from her partner. Clint started to feel a weird uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The last time she looked at him like – she almost shot him.
"Do you know where you are?" the doctor asked continuing down his list.
"Probably SHIELD medical," she said blankly – but she was starting to doubt that.
"Good. And you know who we both are right?" he said pointing to himself and Clint who was standing beside him with a weird look on his face. She could feel that she was making him nervous – well Barton you aren't doing a great job of calming my nerves. She nodded anyway.
"Obviously...you're a SHIELD doctor and he's Clint Barton my partner," she said slowly. They both sighed in relief.
"That's good. Last question – what year is it?" he asked looking down at her charts and was about to check off the all clear.
"It's 2011," she replied evenly. They both froze and stared at her in worry. She glanced at both their odd reactions – something really was wrong.
"I-I'm sorry?" he asked staring at her like he was trying to deny something. She gave him a wary look.
"Isn't it May 2011?" she asked slowly. They both shook their heads – Clint swore and dragged his hand through his hair. She didn't understand.
"Tasha – it's May 2014," Clint said quietly. Her face went blank. He has got to be joking.
"That is not funny Barton," she said while glaring at him. He froze and she watched a wave of worry flash across his eyes.
"Why are you calling me Barton?" he asked with an odd hitch in his voice.
"I always call you Barton," she said cautiously. Clint glanced at the doctor in alarm. The doctor suddenly looked grim.
"Agent Romanoff – what is the last thing you remember exactly?" the doctor asked with heavy resignation in his voice. She knew there was something wrong from the moment Barton called her Tasha. There was no way in hell she could get the date 3 years wrong either.
"We were doing a mission in Budapest – weren't we?" she asked looking back at Clint who was burning a hole into the bed in front of him. She could make out several different emotions flying across his face – it finally stopped at dread.
"That was 3 years ago Natasha," he replied quietly without even looking up at her questioning look. She tensed and clenched her hands at her sides.
"3…years?" she said with an angry look. Nothing was making any sense. They weren't making any sense.
"It's going to be okay Agent Romanoff. This happens sometimes with severe brain trauma," the doctor said soothingly. Her hands started shaking slightly – she suddenly had an idea of what was going on. Bastards. Her demeanor instantly changed and Clint noticed right away. Her face lost the simmering anger and was replaced with an anxious look. Clint paused – what was she doing?
"How...how could I lose three years of my life?" she asked suddenly sounding a lot more lost then she did a second ago. Clint gave her a calculative look while the doctor gave her a sympathetic one.
"We don't know. Any brain injury could result in a number of memory problems. You are experiencing the signs of amnesia Agent Romanoff," he said sadly. Amnesia. So that's their play. She took a few deep breaths and made it look like she was about to fall apart at the seams.
"I…can I have a few moments with agent Barton - alone?" she asked suddenly. That made them both pause.
"I don't thin-" the doc started to say.
"Please?" she said softly cutting him off. The doctor hesitated before finally caving under her uncharacteristic pleading look.
"5 minutes – you may be awake but you need your rest," he said giving Barton a warning look before he left the room. The second the door shut behind him she turned her steel gaze towards the only other person in the room. There was no falling apart Russian spy now.
"Who are you?" she growled angrily. He sighed and dragged his hands over his face – so that's what she was thinking. Get rid of the number of enemies in the room. Intimidate her potential interrogator in disguise. Probably find an exit after she found a way to kill or disable him. Natasha never left the mission back in the field – especially not the Natasha from 3 years ago.
"You don't think this is real," he said in defeat. She narrowed her furious gaze at him – it was going to be a long day.
"Of course not. Amnesia? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know how many interrogations I've been through in my life? Over thousands! I have used the amnesia trick – it's not original at all!" she shouted angrily. He sighed once again and sat down heavily on the chair beside her.
"Natasha I know what you're-" he started to say but she instantly cut him off with a icy glare.
"Will you stop it? I don't give a shit what you think – if you think you can actually get any information out of me your people are stupider then I thought," she said in disgust. Clint gave her a calm look as she continued to glare at him. She growled when he didn't even shout back.
"Natasha, most people already know they wouldn't get anything out of the black widow. Most people want you dead – if this was a ploy to interrogate you it would have stunningly failed. You would be able to beat the shit out of me and run away into the sunset. But it's not. I'm not the enemy in disguise Natasha. I'm not trying to trick you. This is real," he said firmly staring at her straight in the eyes. He knew she was still struggling to decide if she should believe him or not – most interrogators would have given up by now. He watched her fall back on her defensive mode and sighed. She shook her head and laughed darkly.
"Plus your acting is shit. Barton would never show that much emotion," she said confidently. Clint closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was going to kill him slowly. He knew it.
"A lot of things have changed since Budapest Tasha," he said quietly. She still didn't believe a word he was saying. Because believing him meant everything she knew was going to fall apart. But even as she continued to deny the situation –she was starting to feel like he was too real. He smelled too real. He sounded too real. She didn't want to touch him because that would be the end all proof. His expressions were off – but they were still too close to what his worry should look. What his anxiousness should look like. Natasha was starting to feel unease.
Nobody should be able to play Clint Barton this well – but she continued to deny it anyway.
"Why are you calling me Tasha? He never called me Tasha," she said blankly. He winced.
"Ha! I knew it! You are a fake!" she said with a snort – but inside she was just hoping he would give up and stop messing with her. She didn't know what her instincts were telling her anymore. This was the first time she couldn't tell what was real anymore. He took a deep breath and tried to gather enough strength to prove to her that he was real.
"When we were in Budapest in the basement of that old national art museum; I was strapped to a bomb that was going to go off in 30 seconds. Do you remember that part?" he asked suddenly. She froze. No. No one was there. He couldn't have known. No one could have known that. Her resolve started crumbling. He noticed her finally lose the confident look on her face and continued on.
"No one was there – it was just you and me, Tasha. Just you and me. I told you to get out while you could and you slapped me hard in response – I didn't expect anything less. But...I honestly thought that was it Tasha," he said quietly staring her with solemn eyes. Natasha couldn't look away even if she wanted to. "I thought we were going to die – but at least you were the last person I got to see before I went right? I didn't want you to go down with me – but you never listen Tasha. Never. But you wouldn't be you if you did," he said giving her a crooked smile. Natasha couldn't breathe – because all she could think about was that…he was real. "I didn't want to die with any regrets Tasha. So I told you the three words that agents are never allowed to say. You were holding up 3 wires and neither of us knew which one would stop the clock and which two would instantly blow us up. At twenty seconds you said agents weren't allowed to be compromised. I shook my head and told you rules didn't matter right now. At ten seconds you said you might've been compromised for a long time," he said with a faraway look. Natasha closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. He was real.
"What was the colour of the wire we cut?" she asked holding onto the last strand of hope that maybe he was just lucky – maybe…but she didn't know what to believe anymore. She waited for his response instead.
"Green – we didn't blow up," he whispered softly. Natasha opened her eyes and stared at her partner's solemn ones. He was Clint Barton – and he really was sitting beside her. She was such an idiot.
"But we got ambushed an hour later and I was knocked out with a crow bar," she said with a sigh. He nodded gravely.
"Is that the last thing you remember?" he asked with a cautious look. She nodded as she stared at her hands. They sat in silence for a few minutes as they both processed what just happened.
"What are you thinking about Tasha?" he asked quietly.
"You," she said softly. He gave her a weak smile.
"What about me?" he asked with a slight uneasiness in his light tone. She finally tore her eyes away from her hands and glanced back up at his patience ones.
"You're the same – but you're not. You've changed," she said with an odd look on her face. He shook his head as he took her smaller hand into his rough ones. They were his hands. Natasha nearly pulled away – it was making everything too real, too fast.
"I haven't changed Tasha – I've just grown older," he whispered still staring at her with all the patience in the world – when did he lose all that recklessness she remembered?
"So now you're 34?" she asked tentatively.
"Yes - and you're 32," he said giving her hands a light squeeze. It nearly made her jump. A thought suddenly occurred to her.
"Are we still partners Barton?" she asked uncertainly. He tensed but didn't pull away. That was a good sign right?
"What are you talking about? We've been the best team in SHIELD for the past three years Tasha," he said reassuringly. She shook her head slowly.
"No I don't mean then. I mean…now," she said looking away from his suddenly unsure expression. She didn't know if she wanted to hear the answer anymore. He tried to think back to all the SHIELD protocol garbage that he scanned through all those years ago.
"I…I don't know. I never read the protocol for amnesia," he said with a wince. She snorted – she couldn't help it. Barton never read protocol unless his life depended on it – usually it didn't.
"Leave it to Coulson to make one up on the spot then," she said with a sigh. He tensed and suddenly he did pull away. Now that was alarming.
"What? What's wrong?" she asked in confusion. He shook his head and tried to figure out how to explain this complex situation surrounding Coulson's death – starting with the fact that he died at all. He rubbed his face and took a deep breath.
"You see there was the Avengers - um our hashed up superhero team, and this demi-god from a place called Asgard named Loki and aliens..." he trailed off as she started to look more and more bemused as he continued. "You know what? We're going to ease you into this. So for right now let's leave the history catch up you'll need for later," he said as he glanced down at his watch. He would tell her later. He could already see the situation starting to overwhelm her – even though she kept a tight grip on her emotions – even now. "I think my five minutes are almost up – please don't run away. The world in general is very different now –our world is sort of different as well. You might not like it at first – you didn't back then," he said with a light laugh. She gave him a questioning look. Why did he suddenly look so nervous?
They both heard a gigantic commotion start out in the hall. Clint groaned and dropped his head in his hands. He forgot.
"What do you mean we can't see her? Who the hell are you?" a very annoyed voice asked. "Do you know who I am? Do you know that I can pull up your records and find every single one of your dirty secrets with a tap of a finger?" the voice continued to rant. Clint dragged his hands over his face.
"Give me one second," he said as he got up out of the chair and stalked over to the door. It didn't matter if he closed the door behind him or not – she could hear everything loud and clear. Now this was unexpected.
"STARK! Stop harassing the nurses! We have a freaking crisis here – no one needs you to start another one – understand?" Clint said irritably. She imagined that Stark must look thoroughly ruffled.
"Sorry." he muttered without even a single arrogant retort. She was beyond shocked to say the least – she was not expecting that response at all. When did Clint become so chummy with the genius billionaire that he could give him a dressing down like that and get away with it?
Natasha knew she was going to get a headache from all the whiplash she was experiencing.
"Do you know how she's doing?" Stark asked a bit more calmly but still with a worried edge on his voice. Clint sighed – he was doing that a lot lately she noticed.
"She has amnesia Stark," he said quietly. She froze.
WHAT? Stark was here to see her? Last time she checked she had no connection whatsoever to the narcissistic bastard. What the hell has she been doing the past 3 years?
"WHAT?" there was collective shout amongst another group of unknown people. She didn't recognize any of their voices. Were there other SHIELD agents out there too?
"You know what guys? You are really not what she needs right now. She can't remember the last 3 years of her life, she thinks I'm only her partner in the teammate sense and right now you are not going to help convince her that this is reality and that she is not insane! So please – go home. We'll come eventually," Clint said finally fed up with everything that had happened that night. His entire world was about to change – and it wasn't going to be the good kind.
She heard a series of grumbling come from the unknown group before they started to walk away – definitely dragging their feet as they went – who were they? And why they did they care to see her? Natasha stared down at her hands. No one really connected well with her at SHIELD – if it wasn't for Barton she might have left a long time ago. But he made SHIELD bearable. If she was truly honest with herself (and she never really was) he made most things bearable.
She glanced up as Clint and the Doctor came back into the room with matching grave expressions.
"What? Are you going to tell me I'm dying too?" she asked in defeat. She gave up. If this really was one messed up mindfuck created by some enemy to break her – they were succeeding brilliantly. Even if there was no way he wasn't Clint Barton –she didn't know what to trust anymore.
Clint shook his head watching her with wary eyes. "No – we just realized something that might really freak you out," he said cautiously. She rolled her eyes – Natasha Romanoff does not freak out. She was a god damn Russian assassin.
"Honestly Barton? Why are you wincing? Whatever. After that wake up call you just gave me– nothing can freak me out more than I already am right now," she said dryly.
"Um…no I think this one takes the cake," he said with a wince. He looked very uncomfortable and didn't seem like he was too fond of what was going to happen next. Natasha gave his odd actions a quizzing look. The next thing she knew the doctor was handing her a mirror. She looked into it curiously. Why would she need a…
"OH MY GOD!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs. Every agent in a 20 meter radius winced.
"WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BROWN HAIR?" she screamed staring at her reflection in horror. In all honesty it really wasn't a big deal – it was just the catalyst that tipped her over the edge of insanity. Clint watched her seriously freak out with great wariness.
"Was that really such a good idea Doc?" he asked quietly. The doctor shrugged.
"It's better she freaks out now when its fresh, then bury all her feelings inside her like she usually does. That way we don't have to watch it build up and explode one day," the doctor said wisely. Clint snorted.
"Yeah – she's doing a great job of exploding right now," he said sarcastically.
memories memories memories memories memories memories memories memories memories
A/N: Hey everyone! I had this idea floating around in my head all day and I thought I would give it a shot on paper! Let me know what you think and if I should continue this story! There might be a little angst…but it's going to be super long story with a lot of action and an interesting mystery once we get all the Avengers on a mission. Hope you like it!