When Clint finally got in to see her, he was in the foulest of moods.
They had tried to keep it from him to begin with, burying him in an office under field reports and junior agent evaluations. But after hours of no human contact aside from the persistent receptionist who always found some reason for him to stay, he gave her the slip and ventured out for some distraction from the mind-numbing paperwork.
He sauntered into the mess hall without a care in the world. Funny how fast things can change.
While he was pouring a cup of sludgy coffee, Agent Roaker came up next to him. They'd done a few ops together in the past and it wasn't unusual to reminisce "Hey man you okay?"
Huh? Of all the things Clint had been expecting.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" Clint replied, bemused. He figured he probably looked like the walking dead after spending all day in a dimly lit dungeon that SHILED liked to call an office.
"You know…" he gestured vaguely, "all the shit the went down with Romanov last night…rough day man"
Clint stared hard at him, uncomprehending.
Roaker shifted uncomfortably, "you…don't…know?"
"Know what?" Clint said slowly, his words clipped, "What happened to Agent Romanov?" She was in Stockholm, on some cakewalk protection detail that Fury had hand-picked her for. It was ridiculous to think anything serious could have happened to her; and if anything had he would have been notified.
He noticed suddenly that the room had gone unusually quiet and looked up to find people either openly staring or trying to look anywhere but at him.
What the fuck?
"I thought…I um…er…" Roaker stumbled over his words, not wanting to be the one to spill the bad news to one of SHIELD's most deadly agents. Especially not when it was about said agent's partner and suspected lover.
Clint's blood ran cold momentarily, and then began to boil with an indignant anger. Why the hell would they keep this from him? He pushed past Roaker, and shoved past people in the corridor as he made his way.
He barged in while she was in a meeting of some kind, "What happened? Where is she?" he demanded with an unnerving and forced calmness lacing his words.
Agent Maria Hill, heaved a sigh. She had been expecting him, and frankly she had been surprised it took him this long to realize something was off. The hope had been that they could keep him busy until Coulson could tie up his own assignment and return to handle breaking the news. She knew they'd never be able to keep it from him for that long.
Some asshole on the detail with Romanov was able to text some other asshole, and before they knew it everyone knew. So much for being a secret organization, it was embarrassing. They barely managed to seclude Barton in a vain attempt to keep him in the dark. She was surprised it had worked at all.
"Excuse us gentlemen," the two suits, CIA, glanced warily at Barton but left without protest.
As soon as the door closed, Barton let loose a barrage of questions. "What went wrong?" "Is she alright?" "Why didn't you tell me?" "How bad is it?" "Is she in surgery?" and with each question she realized that he didn't actually know.
Shit. Damn Coulson for not being here.
He was probably the only one that could keep Barton from doing something truly stupid.
"…is she here? In surgery or recovery?"
"She's here Clint…" another sigh, "But she's not in medical…"
It took some threats, and one not-so-figuratively twisted arm, but he eventually gained access to sub-level three, SHIELD's high security detention facility for the New York base. There was a man in a cheap suit with a clip board in hand, leaning back in a chair outside the cell of the facility's only occupant. Clint approached slowly, eyeing the guy suspiciously.
He found Natasha sitting on a metal bench behind two inches if plexi glass as though she was Hannibal Fucking Lecter. She sat with her back strait, chin held up defiantly, and a stony mask firmly in place staring off into space. Her hair was disheveled, lip split, a bruise blooming across her jaw, and dried blood across her forehead that seemed to match her hair perfectly.
He was filled with both relief and outrage at the sight of her.
"Tasha," he breathed "what happened?"
Hey look! I'm writing again. Feels like it has been forever! Y'all need to send some reviews so I feel guilty about making you wait and jump on writing the next chapter.