Muse is on a roll! Maybe because I have a project due, I dunno, but I'm finally getting around to editing all my old stuff!
Here we go!
Little series story for you!
Little fluff!
Disclaimer; Still own nothing of Marvel! Quit asking, it upsets me!
"Just relax, you baby." She laughed, throwing his sweat soaked t-shirt into the hamper for wash. "Had you dropped the macho act and actually told me earlier, you wouldn't be like this right now."
It was one of the days Natasha always dreaded most. Her boyfriend was sick. And holy crap, when Clint Barton was sick, it was always worse than having a toddler to mind!
She knew from when he was injured all those times before, he was a horrible patient. The fact he was now trying to get out of his bed proved he was the same when sick.
"I'm fine, Tash. Let's just get back to training." He sighed, hands braced on the mattress to help him sit up. He froze when his eyes met her glare, slowly lowering to lie back down. "Or rest.. Rest is good too."
"Damn straight." She laughed, tucking him in before kissing his forehead and turning to leave.
"Nat.." Good lord that pleading voice always killed her, especially with that weak fever twinge in it. She turned to look at him, tough his eyes were pretty distant. "Can you stay..?"
"Of course." She whispered with a smile, going to lie on the bed and into his welcoming arms.
It was about a month since SHIELD had fallen, so this was a regular nightly position for them.
She wasn't tired at all, it only being about 11 in the morning or so, so she just ran her fingers over his chest as he relaxed, examining every little mark that graced his solid body.
One stood out more than others, a nasty sized one that rose and fell in different places, no consistency to it like normal ones. She never seen one like it before, and never noticed it because, well, the times he was topless she was focused on other things entirely.. Scars definitely weren't in her mind!
"Lebanon." He whispered to her, she always found it weird how he could just answer unspoken questions like that. "The botched evac of soldiers. Remember?"
She frowned a little in confusion, honestly not remembering. Though she could recall de-briefing's he went to about something to do with Lebanon. He always told her to stay away from them, she never knew why.
She heard the chuckle rip through his chest, causing her to look up at him. His eyes were closed, face tinged pink, so she was worried the fever was making him mad.
"Not surprised." He finally said, hugging her a little tighter. "They had you pretty doped up for a while after.."
"They did..?" She asked in confusion, and he just nodded.
"It was barely a year before New York, Tash.." He began, and she snuggled in to listen to the tale he was, no doubt, about to begin.
He really hated army gear. Like seriously. It was thick and stuffy, and way too warm for Lebanon's climate. And it itched like mad!
SHIELD had gotten word that some UN peacekeepers were taken in an unpopulated hostile region. Two squadrons of them. Usually not SHIELD's concern, but there were rumours that Hydra were working in these parts, and none of the usual Lebanese groups claimed responsibility.
So, their best team was sent out to play rescue with the UN.
"Stop fidgeting, will you?" Natasha scolded, strapping two hand guns to her waist.
"Come on! You can't tell me that this doesn't annoy you!" He complained with a pout, tugging the collar of the cammo gear they were ordered to wear.
"It's just for one mission, Barton. You'll survive." She smiled, slinging her machine gun around her shoulders, just like Clint, and every other operative agent stuck in the back of this van.
"I don't understand why I couldn't bring my bow.."
"Any kills can't be traced back to SHIELD. So shut up about it." She growled, pinching his leg as punishment.
No one knew they weren't military. They were there for a simple scout assignment. See if it is Hydra, help as much as possible without over doing it, then get the hell out of there.
"Phillips!" The commanders voice boomed, which made Clint look to him. God, he hated authority so much.. But he had to play his part! He sounded angry at this Phillips guy though!
Oh wait.. That was him..
"Sir?" He replied, sitting to attention. He could just feel Nat smirk beside him.
"Next time answer me the first time, damn yank!" He growled out, his british accent sometimes making it difficult for Clint to understand. But, commander Bradford was a well respected guy in the British military, so he'd be nice!
"You'll be outside with O'Rourke to usher the troops to the van, understood?"
"But sir.." He started with a kind of panicked voice. He couldn't leave Natasha like that. Not if Hydra was actually around.
"Excuse me?" The commander growled, but Natasha's hand on his knee told him to drop it.
"Understood, sir." Barton growled right back, venom dripping from the 'sir'.
The van squeaked to a hault, and they all clambered out to the unforgiving cold of midnight Lebanon.
They were a little over a kilometre from the bunker, they'd have to walk the rest of the way so the van's don't ruin the surprise.
All except Barton and this O'Rourke guy, that is.
Clint stayed away from everyone, acting as though he was helping Natasha check her weapon.
"Keep the camera on, got it?" He ordered her, a slight frown on his face as he checked that the screen to the feed on his watch was working. "And comms. I can be your second eyes and ears."
"Relax." Her hand on his cheek stopped him, and he looked us to see Natasha gracing him with an amused smile. "You worry too much. It's not my first solo.."
"Costello! Roll out!" Bradford's voice boomed, causing Clint to frown.
"Sir!" Natasha called back, giving Clint's arm a little encouraging squeeze before leaving.
While O'Rourke, a young guy with short black cropped hair, big build, thickest Northern Irish accent he ever heard, relaxed on the back of the truck; Clint watched the other five soldiers leave until they were nothing but dots on the horizon.
"Y'seem to be a worrier, Yank." O'Rourke's laughing voice reached his ears, and he just shrugged.
"Just wanted a bit of the action is all." He simply replied, going to sit next to the Irish man.
"Not get enough of that in your own army? I'd bet a shit tonne that your military is alot more exciting than ours!"
"Sometimes." Cilnt laughed, swinging his legs off the truck. He'd love to live in a neutral country like O'Rourke! All Ireland did was sent peacekeepers from time to time!
Maybe when he gets out of SHIELD.
If he gets out of SHIELD..
"Say, what's that?" Clint's eyes widened as the soldier poked his comms sets. How did he even notice them!? They were pretty far in his ear!
"Eh, hearing aids." He chuckled nervously, taking the aid from the opposite ear to show him since a soldier would know in an instant what a comm set looked like.
"A deaf soldier.." O'Rourke hummed, a curious pout crossing his features. "No wonder Bradford left you behind! You're useless!"
"Shut it." Barton growled, not copping that it was just a joke.
The conversation dropped, so Clint got up and wandered, moving away so he could talk to Natasha.
"Any Hydra?" He said through his comms, looking to the screen for a sign.
'Definitely something.' sign was sent back. Three fingers held up. One was none, two was maybe, three was they saw something to suggest it was true, four was a definite sighting.
"Stay safe please.." He whispered with a slight frown, grinning though when a middle finger appeared on the screen.
No need to tell you all what that meant.
Another 20 minutes passed before he heard anymore through the comms. He found the comotion odd. They found the soldiers, but were breaking into teams. Bradford had asked Natasha to scope out the rest of the place with him while the others led to captured men out.
His gut didn't like that. He chose her over his own soldiers.. Why..?
"I don't like this, Tash.." He said through the comms, watching the action on the screen.
He let her lead, so he couldn't see what Bradford was up to.
One hand moved up and down infront of the camera, a fisted one. Thumb facing up then straight.
Took him a moment to realise she was half signing to relax, so he took a deep breath to try.
He was just over reacting. Probably heat stroke from this damn get up.
"Holy shit.." He whispered in disbelief when Natasha kicked in a door, her own Russian version of 'Holy shit' escaping her lips at the same time.
It must have been the main office of the place. Definitely the boss man's place. Behind a large wooden desk held a huge painting of Red Skull, the founder and former leader of Hydra before Captain America took him out all those years ago.
He watched as Natasha walked the room, glancing at various papers, majority of them blue prints and plans for different weapons, some just boring contracts, and others were kill orders. There was one folder that read 'Stark' and Clint made a mental note to definitely grab that one later.
"Impressive, isn't it?" He heard over the comms, the faint voice belonging to Bradford.
The commander didn't sound phased at all, and of the parts of the room Clint could see on the small screen, he noticed the soldier go to the desk.
"Have you seen many of the bases, Agent Romanoff?"
Shit.
Clint's eyes widened when the commander took a seat behind the desk, gun casually aimed at Natasha.
Shit shit.
"Seems like you did your research.." Natasha replied calmly, he noticed that she was disarming herself.
Shit shit shit.
Dammit, get out of there!
He would have shouted that down the comms, but he was afraid Bradford would hear and he'd get her killed.
"Oh no, we always knew about you." He chuckled, sounding so damn casual with her. "We always knew we were on SHIELDs radar, but never thought they'd send the infamous Black Widow after us.. Or Hawkeye for that matter. Was really disappointed he didn't bring his bow.."
"You'd be dead right now if he did." She replied coldly, which was damn true!
If he wasn't at risk of being shot by O'Rourke for deserting, he'd be running to get her!
That, and he trusted his partner enough to let her handle this.
"Perhaps.." Bradford hummed, then Clint's heart sank as he fired the gun. He didn't know where the soldier hit her, but Natasha instantly fell to the ground. He could just see Bradford's boots approaching.
Shit shit fuck shit bastard!
"Tash!?" He yelled down the comms, looking up a moment when O'Rourke came out of the truck. He switched to a harsh whisper so he wouldn't get suspicious. "Dammit Widow, answer me! That's an ord-"
He stopped when he heard a spine chilling command from the comms, O'Rourke's hand going to his ear meaning the message was going to him.
"Widow's mine. Taking her to interogation. Take out Hawk."
O'Rourke didn't cop that Clint could hear the command, because the young man was smiling at him.
"Just got word they're safe. Set up the back of the truck for me?"
Clint just nodded, following the soldier to the van.
Pick your moment, Barton..
When O'Rourke was opening the back of the van, he struck. The butt of his machine gun struck the base of the young man's skull. Enough force to send him to the ground, not enough to kill or even knock him out. Clint needed answers and he couldn't get them if the last two happened.
When the soldier was on his back, Clint kicked his gun from out of reach and instantly straddled him, pinning his arms to his sides with his legs.
"Where's he taking her?" He growled, being answered with just a smirk.
Three punches across the dace. He hadn't time for this!
"Oh just go home you absolute wanker! Find a new fuck buddy!" O'Rourke laughed, moving his jaw around to test the pain.
Four more punches. A hell of a lot stronger this time.
"Where the fuck is interrogation!?"
"Like I'd tell you." The cocky voice was gone. Guess the punches and likely concussion was getting to him. "Hydra's so much better than SHIELD at teaching how to deal with interrogation.."
Clint frowned in annoyance at that, taking a handgun from his holder.
A bullet to the shoulder gained such a delightful scream from the Irish man.
"Five shots left, man." Clint said calmly, though his mind was going mad with worry.
"Hail Hydra.." O'Rourke replied through gritted teeth, once he gained enough breath to.
A bullet to the other shoulder. Another scream.
"N-not gonna work!"
Clint rolled his eyes at that comment. Of course it would. It always does.
Both knee's got a bullet this time. He'd break.
"Next one's going through your balls you piece of shit!" Clint growled, really sick of these games! He held the barrel of the gun to the afore mentioned body part just to prove he wasn't bluffing.
He screamed a moment, the barrel was scalding. It was literally burning his balls off.
"The basement of the bunker!" The soldier yelled, whimpering from pain then.
Clint smiled sweetly at him, patting his cheek with his free hand a moment.
"Was that so hard? Thanks pal!" He said in a cheery voice, shooting his balls anyways though!
That bullet earned about half a scream before the guy finally passed out.
Clint got up and didn't even bother move the bleeding mess of a soldier before him. He just ran towards the bunker, re-filling his gun as he went.
This is why the commander wanted him to stay behind. The asshole knew as soon as they arrived who they were. He had all this planned from the word go.
If he lay even one finger on his partner, there'd be another dick shot off today.
When he was about ten minutes out, he took the satellite phone from his pocket.
"Evac, Hawk in. Widow comped. Extraction in progress. Need medical."
"Roger that Hawk. Bird is 30 clicks. Over."
He growled to himself and pushed on, 30 minutes was way too much time for something bad to happen! He burst right into the bunker, not bothering to see if there were actually any other Hydra soldiers around. Even if shot, he'd still get her out.
No one was around though, so he was actually happy for a moment! The previous team obviously took them all out before he could get there. Or Bradford had none in there, one or the other.
When the basement door appeared infront of him, he paused, needing a moment to catch his breath. This gear was heavy! New found respect for soldiers!
He made sure he had the machine gun at the ready and cracked the door open.
All thoughts of danger left his mind when he saw his partner tied to a chair in the middle of the room. Her jacket was gone, leaving her in the dark green undershirt issued. A wet dark spot was pretty damn visible, even in the low light, meaning she was shot pretty badly just next to her stomach. Commander obviously had good aim. A painful place to be shot without damaging any organs that could kill.
"Tash.." He whispered in shock, running in and over to his partner. First thing's first; he checked to make sure she still actually had a pulse.
Faint, but there. He checked her eyes, and they were just about open, but glassed over.
Pain wouldn't do that..
"Cli-" She began, though she couldn't finish. He couldn't tell if it was pain that stopped her or if she physically couldn't talk.
He had a bad feeling..
"Shh.." He whispered, stroking her cheek a moment to comfort her. Though her eyes suddenly came to life a little, the pleading look in them confusing him.
What was wrong with her..?
He found out what as soon as the side of his head was struck, causing him to fall away from Natasha.
White spots were all over his vision as he tried get back up, a swift kick to the ribs sent him onto his back though before he could complete the task.
"Agent Barton! An honour!" He looked up at he commander above him, though the man's face was blurry Clint just knew he was smirking. "Great fan of your work."
"Oh, go to hell.." Clint growled, though the boot constricting his throat soon turned that into a whimper.
"Already heading there. Might as well enjoy the ride a little!" He laughed, Clint faintly registering another pair of boots by him. The other guy took a hold of Barton and pulled him to his feet, restraining him in a choke hold. Bradford smiled as he began taking Clint's weapons.
"Really wanted to see your bow.." He actually sounded upset, though he was now happily looking through the set of daggers Clint brought along.
He turned his gaze towards Natasha, and she was just watching this all unfold. No protest, no anger in those eyes, nothing. What had they done to her..?
"Planning some interrogations?" He asked smugly, holding one of the more brutal blades to the light to examine it.
Clint shuddered a little, it was a favourite of his, but only in his hands. It was a jaggedly sharp curved blade, designed to inflict as much pain as possible going in, and even more when coming out. The healing of the wound hurt too, because of the large crevice the curve shape left. Years later, if something pushed against the scar that remained, the person would more than likely be sore for a week. It was a horrific blade he used in countless interrogations, and now it seemed it would be used today by another hand.
"Have to be prepared for everything." Clint choked out, difficult to with the asshole's lacky strangling him.
"Suppose so.. Hope you prepared for this.." Bradford hummed, the next thing Barton heard was his own scream as the blade was jabbed in his chest, avoiding the heat by millimetres, he later noted. This guy was one sadistic genius.
He didn't even give Clint the satisfaction of bleeding out! The soldier turned to go back towards Natasha, leaving the dagger to send while hot painful bursts throughout Hawkeye's body.
"Don't you touch her!" Clint yelled, struggling as best he could against his captor. Pain be dammed, near unconsciousness be dammed, he couldn't let the asshole touch her!
Bradford sent Clint a smirk, the other blade Hawkeye owned in his hand. "Evac 15 clicks." He suddenly heard from the comms. He just had to live 15 minutes, then they could get out of here.
"My boy.." The Hydra commander smirked, drawing the blade along Natasha's cheek to draw a nice thin line of blood. No pain, no scream, not even a flinch. This confused Clint.
He knew Natasha was good, but there wasn't even a slight flinch from her. She just kept staring stone eyed at Clint.
"She's so drugged up right now she can barely feel her own limbs."
"On what..?" Hawkeye asked in shock, eyes wide as his voice tried hide the worried tone.
Bradford just smirked even wider, cutting the restraints off Natasha's hands.
"Sweetie, what's your friends name there?"
"Clinton Francis Barton." She instantly replied, Clint's jaw dropping slack at her robot-esque voice. Bradford laughed at his expression.
"Good girl. Now, tell me, what's the best way to cause young Clinton pain..?" He was kneeling infront of Natasha now, but she wasn't doing anything to stop him.
She wouldn't..
"Bad hearing.. SHIELD did tests.. You take his aids, take his sense, and his pain tolerance drops five fold.."
His heart split in two. How the hell could she give his weakness up so easily!?
"Interesting." Bradford hummed, patting Natasha's head as if she was a pet.
"Nat.." Clint whispered in shock, falling to his knees when the lackey pulled him down.
"We have perfected interrogation, Agent Barton." Bradford smiled, kneeling infront of Hawkeye. "Pain works, but a nice numbing agent and truth serum works alot better."
"Evac on site. Carrier 1 click south. Copy?"
He just has to get them out and they'll be fine..
"Deaf then.." The commander hummed, reaching into Clint's ears to yank out the aids, no matter how much he struggled.
Natasha was right. A little after he lost his hearing, they did a study on him. They wanted to see if the tales were true, if one sense goes the others heighten. It was originally to see if he managed to gain even better eyesight, but it soon turned into every sense. The sense of touch was by far the worst. That was the one with pain. And when they tested different kind of pain stimuli, torture techniques, he caved at a five fold threshold. That meant, when deaf, he felt pain five times worse than normal.
So, for example, the dagger in his chest right now was so painful that it was about to make him black out. He had to get them out though, so he fought it back.
Panic must've rushed to his eyes, because Bradford's smirk grew scary.
He was finally released by the lackey, but he didn't have a moment to rest.
A kick to his chest, to the dagger to be more precise, instantly had him screaming in pain. But the commander wasn't satisfied with that, because he was instantly ontop of Barton, landing blow after blow to his head, occasionally using the straight dagger to stab at random points on his body.
The pain was excruciating, he couldn't hear it but he could see Bradford laughing. His mind was blurry, but he had to do something. So, when the commander was distracted with his own smugness, Clint grabbed the soldiers gun and shot the bastard right between the eyes.
He took a moment before aiming at the other man in the room. His vision may have been ridiculously blurry, but Hawkeye never missed. So the bullet landed right between his eyes too.
Barton took a moment to take a deep breath, as deep as he could manage at least. It was so damn painful..
He mustered up all his strength and pushed the dead soldier off his body, adrenaline taking over and helping him stand.
Natasha was coming somewhat through the haze, because her eyes were beginning to look panicked.
"Shh.. I'm fine.." He whispered to her, not hearing her words but knowing it must have been something to that effect. He as bleeding from alot of places, but not too bad. The second they took this dagger out then he'd have a problem. But her gunshot was still bleeding profusely. He had to get her some help.
He smiled through the pain to reassure her, worked through it too as he carefully lifted her from the chair.
He had to get to the evac point.
Everywhere was burning, his vision was blurry, he couldn't find his aids so he couldn't hear if someone was following them.
He pushed on trough, he had to get her to safety, that was the only thing going through his mind. She lost way too much blood already.
He made it out the front door and gave a smile of relief when he saw the carrier waiting for them.
Gathering every ounce of energy, he broke out into a run, ignoring all his injuries.
He climbed in with Natahsa and let the paramedics take her, her panicked eyes barely opened.
Another medic was saying something to him, beginning to work on him as the carrier took off.
Natasha was freaking out, he knew by how much she was thrashing about. He pushed the medics away and stood from his seat, going over to gently stroke her cheek.
She relaxed, thankfully.
"Get some sleep.. I got first watch.." He hoped the words came out right, because he knew it would be the only thing that would calm her down.
She said something as he eyes fell closed, but his lip reading was terrible, even on a good day.
He fell into a chair when he knew she was safe, gritting his teeth as the medic began pulling the dagger from him. The blackness of unconsciousness quickly approached, and he welcomed it like an old friend.
"I woke a week later.." He said in a whisper, his eyes having been closed a while.
She was sitting up, having jumped when she was captured in the story. It honestly felt like he was just making it up, but as he went on things began to come back to her.
He was weak telling the tale, so through out it she had to nudge him awake a lot.
"They kept you sedated for three days, sent you off on some mission then.. I didn't get to see you for three weeks after cause they were afraid my injuries would make you relapse."
"You lied to me. You said those bandages were from getting roughed up on a hit." She whispered in shock, remembering the day they did see eachother again. Even then he was in a state. Must've been a bad beat down.. Worse than he described.
He just laughed and nodded, nuzzling the pillow a little.
She made an upset sound and lay back down, her hand resting on his stomach as she gave the jagged scar a soft kiss.
"I love you.." She whispered after a while, and his lips were felt ontop of her head as he gave it a soft kiss.
"I love you too." He whispered back, but she had to shake her head.
He went back for her. Took torture she knew was his worst fear. Managed to survive it and still rescued her even though she betrayed him. There was only one thing she would have said to him on that carrier that day.
She pulled back and looked at his face, his confused eyes meeting hers.
"What you couldn't hear me say.." She began, but his softening eyes and his arms inviting her in for a hug meant he understood her already.
She happily cuddled into his arms, a little smile on her face as they relaxed.
"Good to know all I need do is die for your love." He teased after a while, chuckling when she growled and pinched his stomach.
"You're not the only one who ever went on a suicide mission, y'know." She growled, though she smiled a little when his hand gently rubbed her back.
"Is that so?"
"Oh, don't tell me you forget Khost.."
She smiled a little sadly at his shiver, giving his chest a little kiss to calm him down.
Of course he remembered.. One of the worst missions she can remember.