It was something about the night. It was like it unlocked something in Natasha that she tried so desperately hard to repress. Memories flooded her head. Mostly faces. Always faces. She remembered every single one of them. Her victims. She knew that the people she had got rid of were no good slime but she couldn't help but remember.

She knew that despite her intentions she always would.

She always would remember.

She sat up in her bed, breathing heavily. She held her head in her hands for a few seconds before pulling herself out of her bed. Natasha looked out of her window at the dark streets of Brooklyn. It was a misty, cold night and the only light visible was the dull yellow of the lampposts. On the other side of the street stood the gym.

Another memory flashed through her mind.

It was a fire, burning so bright that it could blind. She heard screams, both male and female. There was something so familiar about the voices but she couldn't quite place it.

Natasha needed a distraction and fast. She pulled on her black jeans and crop top before running out into the cold, chilly night air. She crossed the street and let out a sigh of relief as she entered the warm gym.

She stood in front of the punching bag immediately, not bothering to protect her hands and gave a hard punch at the bag. It swung back violently then went still.

Another face.

Punch.

Another face.

She punched again and again, over and over, till her hands ached and the pain distracted her. She rested her forehead against the punching bag.

She was tired. So tired of pretending that nothing bothered her. So tired of keeping people away from her.

She was just so tired.

"Nat, is that you?"She heard a familiar, husky voice ask.

She looked over at the doorway and saw her ex partner in crime standing there with a slightly bemused expression on his face.

"Barton. What a pleasant surprise."

Clint ignored her sarcasm laced comment and walked further into the room. His eyes fell down to her hands and his eyes widened.

"What are you staring at?"

"Your hands, Natasha. Their bleeding," Clint said quietly as he moved closer to her.

Natasha looked down at her hands and was surprised to see he was right. Her hands had crimson liquid over them and she laughed uneasily.

"Come with me," Clint said in a usually soft tone as he guided Natasha over to a table. Natasha knew what he was going to do. He got out a green box and from it he took some wipes and bandages. Natasha sighed. After years of working together, it became routine for them to patch each other up after they got injured on missions.

She closed her eyes as Clint cleaned the blood from her hands gently. Clint looked up at Natasha but quickly looked down at her hands again. Clint lost track of how many times Natasha distracted him.

It was just something about her that captivated him more than anything.

Maybe it was her enduring strength or her temper. Perhaps it was the way that she gave him that smile that she would never show anyone else.

Whatever it was, it was unpractical. He could remember several times where he got injured in battle while he got lost in thought of Natasha's smile or eyes.

He got out the bandages and started wrapping them around her knuckles.

"What are you doing here so late?" Clint asked, still working with the bandages.

Natasha opened one eye and smiled slightly.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Clint sighed and shrugged his shoulders slightly as he finished wrapping her hands in the bandages.

"I couldn't sleep. Now, you tell me."

"Same reason as you," she replied softly, standing up.

Clint stood up with her and walked over to her.

The conversation between them went silent. Natasha felt herself drawn to Clint and she closed her eyes as she saw him leaning in slowly.

Natasha's eyes flew open quickly as their lips met. She went still at first but then she lost herself in the kiss and ran her fingers through his hair with her eyes closed again. Clint kissed her gently and it was the best feeling he ever experienced. God, he'd waited so long for this.

Natasha pulled away abruptly and walked to the door, leaving a hurt looking Clint staring after her.

"Natasha, you don't have to be alone. I'm not like any of the others, I can keep myself safe," Clint called out.

She turned around briefly with a sad expression on her face. She didn't want to risk it, risk losing Clint. The only thing that mattered to her anymore. So, she forced herself not to let her feelings get the better of her.

"Love is for children," she replied, though she wasn't sure if she still believed it.