Hey guys! So I've recently gotten into the Avengers but haven't posted anything about them until now because I hadn't felt worthy of the fandom (you know, newbie stuff). Well I am posting now. My first (of potentially many) Clint/Natasha fic(s) (I love them together!) Hope you enjoy! Please Read and Review! :D
When he asked if she loved him, her world came crashing down (the malicious grin on his face, the menacing chuckle in his voice told her all she needed to know).
He had seen her for what she was—weak, vulnerable, stupid (a woman in love).
She was so smart, so quick on her feet, so heavily grounded, and yet he had managed to knock her off balance with a simple question (she knew it wasn't simple).
"Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" (of course it was. of course it couldn't be).
The God of mischief had caught her off guard, she would later use as an explanation for her stumble (she wasn't ready to face it).
He knew his threats would get to her, wrack her brain and pain her (deeper than anyone could imagine, deeper than she would let show).
They still terrify her—taunting her in the back of her mind (they haunt her nightmares; forcing her to face it, forcing her to fight it harder).
How could she be so foolish? (she kicked herself internally over and over).
She can see the little girl in her mind's eye—the one that giggled and tried to capture butterflies. The one with ribbons in her hair, wearing a pink sundress and picking daisies to her content. It was the child she never was. (it was the one she wished she could be).
She would never be able to stop playing this game of back and forth with herself (all she needs is closure; all she needs is him).
She tells herself she can't see it (she can).
She tells herself she doesn't want it (she does).
She tells her self it would never work (maybe it would).
She tells herself that she believes herself (she doesn't).
She always secretly imagined being whisked off her feet by some handsome prince charming (maybe he could be hers). She'd always wanted to be kissed in the rain, held close by someone who loved her, maybe even call that child from her dreams her own one day (she'd never let him).
Clint had found her when she was a child. If she ever had a childhood it was then. She was so insecure, immature, not knowing a thing about the world. Clint had helped her grow up, in a sense (he at first was like a father).
She had clung close to him, so scared and desperate and alone. He was the first person she'd trusted, even if she kept her gun in her back pocket during the ride back to the S.H.E.I.L.D base. She had never been in a helicopter before—she refused to show how scared she was though. She had never been more than ten feet off the ground, to be honest (he had then become her best friend).
She's the Black Widow—a killer, deadly and precise. She's cold and calculated, unknowing of pain or fear or love or happiness. She didn't even think she was capable of feeling anything (until she found it in him).
There were still times when she could imagine being that child—the one with the pudgy hands and rosy cheeks, giggling as she chased after maybe a sibling or a pet on her chubby legs (she wished she knew how it felt, what being a kid was like).
She forced herself to try to shut down those feelings that she didn't want to name. She told herself that she could (she found she couldn't).
He'd kissed her once. She pretended to hate it (they both knew she loved it).
She knows him, everything about him. She knows his ticks, his fears, his passions, his secrets (she knows he loves her).
She commits homicide for a living. She would be a horrible mother anyways. She could kill, end lives... but to start and nurture one? She'd screw it up (something inside her knew she wouldn't).
Besides, he wouldn't want to be a father even if she did want a child (she knew he would want a daughter to love).
What could she give him? She had few possessions. She didn't know how to be in a relationship (she could give him her love).
She struggled to squash her inner hopeless romantic countless times (she wished she could let it be her).
She didn't know how to love (some long buried instinct deep down inside her did).
She was afraid to love, afraid to get it wrong (she knew what to do, she was certain).
So when asked if she loved him, everything crumbled (she did).
She quickly force-fed Loki the same lie she had been telling herself (despite everything she knew it wasn't true).
"Love is for children," (the child she always wanted to be).