Hey everyone! Yes I am writing another one-shot without updating my other fics. Sorry, but not really because this needed to be written. I just watched TWS again (no lie it's about the 30th time). Anyway, I always think where the hell Clint is and why he wasn't there. And yeah, he was probably at the farm, but I'm an avid Clintasha shipper so this is my take. Not sure if any TW apply, I guess aftermath of violence. Not gonna leave spoiler warnings since it was four years ago. Also slight mention of past BuckyNat.

Moya Zvezda- my star

Kotyonok- kitten

Enjoy!

With a 'you might not want to pull on that thread', Natasha disappeared.

It took her four weeks and three days to track Clint down.

The specs of his mission had been posted online, just like everything else had, but he'd fled from the country.

She found him in Moscow, and really it wasn't surprising. On multiple occasions, they'd specified up to ten locations around the world they were to go if anything ever happened.

She'd taken an unregistered, undocumented Stark jet from America to Europe.

She'd hitchhiked, biked, ran, stowed away in trains and cars to reach him.

Barcelona first, then Monaco, Rome, Ukraine, and finally she found him holed up in an off-grid safe house on the outskirts of Moscow.

She entered the safe house, a single bag slung over her shoulder.

She found an arrow pointed at her temple.

"Clint." She said gruffly, voice laced with sheer exhaustion.

"Natasha?" The voice replied, the arrow immediately dropping.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Natasha." Clint breathed, arms enveloping her and pulling her close.

"Clint." She whispered, burying her face against his neck, tears burning her eyes.

He smelled of dirt, sweat, aftershave and home.

"I didn't know if you were alive." Clint murmured, pulling back to cup her face. "I didn't know what happened, if you were in the middle of it or on mission." His voice was thick, dark circles under his eyes.

"I'm alive." She said quietly. "I knew you'd run, I just hoped you hadn't run back to America."

"America isn't home, Natasha, you are. I went with our plan, I ran and I came here." He stroked down the side of her face, eyes shining.

"It was the right move." Natasha took a step back, holding Clint's hand as she walked over to the tiny camp bed and sat down. "How did you know it was time to jump ship?"

"I finished my mission, but my handler didn't check in. I tried to get into the Shield computers and all there was…was the transmission." Clint shook his head.

"Transmission? What transmission?"

"You didn't see it?"

"There…there wasn't time. We were thrown into it, Steve, Maria, Nick and I. We didn't have any time to stop."

"Shit, Tasha." Clint murmured, touching her cheek.

"What did it say? The transmission?"

"Out of the shadows, into the light." He murmured.

Shivers ran down Natasha's spine and she turned, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"After that, the only broadcast was Hydra. On all channels, all frequencies." He murmured, stroking a hand through her hair.

"I saw the news. The Triskelion, the fire and wreckage, the hellicarriers. It was bad wasn't it?"

"It was bad." She said quietly, squeezing her eyes shut. "The whole world thinks Nick is dead, Shield was destroyed from the inside. Some Shield…some facilities are still overrun by Hydra. We lost…a lot of people." She inhaled raggedly. "I stuck around for a week after. Helped get back some facilities, went to the hearings, got interrogated and questioned. I half threatened Capitol Hill and left America."

"Natasha." Clint murmured. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

"You were." She said quietly, touching a hand to her neck where her arrow necklace still lay. She'd stripped away everything from her life, had dyed her hair blonde and cut it shorter. She wore clothes designed to make her look bigger, had changed her eye colour with contacts, but had kept the necklace.

Clint looked thoughtful as he reached behind him for his own backpack. He unclasped the keychain hanging from the zipper and held it out to her. The little spider charm was almost too small to see. It was subtle, and gold, just like her necklace.

Natasha smiled, wrapping her fingers around the hand that held the charm.

"Your fingers." He frowned, turning her palm over.

Natasha sighed, resisting the urge to pull it away.

"I had an incident with my Widow's bites." She murmured. "Burned the top of my fingers a little." She shrugged. "Not a big deal."

"Yes a big deal." Clint tutted, pressing a kiss to her fingertips.

"Then you'll flip out when you see where I was shot." She murmured, undoing the top buttons off the flannel shirt she wore, pushing the shoulder down.

"Shit, Tash." Clint exhaled, lightly brushing his fingers over the still pink puckered mark.

Natasha stiffened just minutely. It didn't hurt. It just reminded her of…last time.

Shielding the engineer, pain, blood everywhere, screams. The walk to the safe house, passing out, waking up to find Clint hovering over her, his face looking panicked and his eyes full of worry.

"Clint." She croaked, closing her eyes for a second.

"Tasha, what is it?"

"It was him. He's back." She whispered, shaking her head.

"It was James?" Clint asked quietly, stroking over her knuckles.

"I knew he was…being controlled by The Red Room. I didn't…I had no idea The Red Room was with Hydra. It was never mentioned." She shook her head, rubbing at her temples to try and ease the burning behind her skin. "But it was Hydra. They had him. They…froze him, wiped his mind, and made him kill."

"You can't blame yourself, Natasha, you went back for him. You searched for years and couldn't find him. You gave your all."

"Clint I…I didn't know, I swear but…James and Steve, they knew each other." She whispered.

"You mean before the freeze or after?"

"Before. They were childhood friends, grew up together. He…he's the Bucky he talks about. I…it never crossed my mind, I just knew him as James. Just James. When he trained me it was…Sir, James if we were intimate. If I'd known..."

"Wow, that's…insane, Natasha." He murmured, shaking his head. "But you had no way of knowing, that they were the same person. James never told you his backstory, how old he was." He cupped her jaw. "Steve thought he was dead."

"I know." She sighed, tiredly leaning back against him.

"I just wish…I could have found him back then. Maybe if I'd not stopped searching after those first two years, if I'd done more digging, found out more information."

"Did he remember you?" He asked softly, not jealous or probing, just asking.

"No. He…looked right through me, he shot me again without hesitation." She said quietly. "He didn't remember me when he shot me near Odessa." She shook her head. "They wipe his mind, they start again. But…maybe it's because he knew Steve from before, but he remembered him. He pulled Steve from the water after the hellicarriers went down." She swallowed back the rise of bile in her throat.

"It's nothing to do with you, Tash." Clint murmured, not unkindly. "I'm sure it's because Steve knew him before."

"Yeah, logically I know that, but damn does it hurt." Her brows furrowed and she again rubbed at her forehead.

"I know, moya zvezda, I know it does." He leaned forward and kissed the red mark she'd left on her forehead.

"Does Steve know?" He murmured, voice quieter.

"Call me weak, or pathetic, but I couldn't tell him to his face. Before I left, I gave him a folder with all the information I had. I left a note."

"Not weak, understandable."

In the dim lights, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

"You need to rest." Clint said softly, helping her to her feet.

When she wavered, he wrapped an arm around her waist and sat her back down.

"Sorry. I…I don't know whether it was getting shot, shocking myself or all the travelling, I'm not myself."

"It's fine, Nat. We'll get some sleep, wake up and have some food, get cleaned up, talk some more and re-evaluate where we go next." He squeezed her shoulder and rummaged in his backpack.

Since she was already in sweats, he helped her undo the flannel shirt, pull off the tank top and her bra and pull down one of his shirts over her head.

Eyes burning, she blinked out her contacts as Clint pulled off her shoes.

He pulled back the covers, lifted her and placed her in the middle of the bed. He crawled in beside her and she instantly rested her head on his chest, arm draped over his waist.

"I'm so glad you're safe, Clint." She whispered, barely able to keep her eyes open.

"I'm glad you're safe, my firebird." He slid his arm around her, hand at her waist. "Go to sleep, Kotyonok, everything will look better in the morning." He hummed.

"Don't call me kitten." She mumbled sleepily, a small smile gracing her lips.

"Sure thing, Nat." He chuckled, squeezing her closer.

"I love you, Clint."

"I love you, Nat."

/Hope I did okay! Please drop a kudos/favourite and leave a comment. Until next time,

SophieRomanoff 3