Okay wonderful people of the internet! I've gone crazy. It's official. So, my brain and I were scrolling through the internet (what else is there to do in my free time?) when I came upon the idea of this story. I thank the person who gave me this idea, even though I don't know who you are. You're amazing anyway.
This will be crazy, strange, and just completely stupid, but hang in there. It'll be over soon. Feel free to tell me how horrible it is!
"Where have you been! I called you a hundred times! Fury got shot! I got shot! HYDRA freaking took down SHIELD! Where the hell were you!?" Natasha yelled, as she climbed higher and higher into the rafters. Clint cast a scared look back at his supposed partner, then scampered higher still. Soon he would run out of places to hide.
"I was in the care center! I still had that flipping ice god in my brain! Can't you just calm down!?"
"For two years, Clint?! TWO WHOLE YEARS YOU WERE IN THE CENTER? You've always been a bad liar, little birdie!"
Clint gulped. Natasha had a look in her eyes that he just did not like. She was climbing up the rafters faster than he thought she could. He realized that this birdie would have to fly soon, so when Natasha stopped to adjust herself, Clint strapped himself to one of his many escape ropes that he had attached throughout the ceiling.
"It took a while Nat! I said I was sorry! Listen, how about we just calm down, and you can tell me everything that happened, once we get you back on stable ground."
"Don't talk condescendingly to me! There was a gap! In the time! You were released from the center eight months ago! What did you do during all that time? Why didn't you help?"
Clint flashed back to where he was killing someone for a car in Grand Theft Auto, and he heard his phone ringing, but he just ignored it and turned up his music louder.
Back in present day, Clint blinked, and decided that telling Natasha what he had actually been doing was not a smart idea. He also realized that she was getting dangerously close. He could see the sweat glistening on her face, and knew that it was time to drop and run. He secured his belt, then looked up.
"I had some stuff to take care of. But I'm here now, so just tell me what's been going on, and then we can go debrief with everyone else-"
"What's been going on? What's been going on? Are you that much of a freaking idiot? What kind of stuff were you taking care of? Video game stuff?"
Clint's silence was held for too long. Natasha's face contorted in such fury, that Clint actually flinched. She gasped, in a rather angry way, and made a swipe at him, but he just leaned backwards, and fell off of his beam and out of the rafters, where he went pummeling to the gym floor below. The rope did it's job, and pulled Clint to a stop just a few feet above the floor, and Clint unhooked it immediately, so that he could start his flee of terror. As he sprinted out of the gym doors, he heard Natasha's shrill voice scream his name from above. He was so dead.
Clint scurried like a scolded puppy up one set of stairs, then up another, running out of breath, but not daring to stop. If he stopped, it would mean his life. If he stopped, he would be dead, then his body would be hidden where no one could find it. So he kept going. He kept running up stairs after stairs after stairs, because what choice did he have?
Finally he came upon a door that wasn't locked. For some strange reason, all the doors that he had tried to open on the way up had been locked, and Clint had a chilling feeling that his psychotic partner had a hand in that.
He charged into the room, then skidded to a stop behind a counter. He slid to the floor, with his back resting against the cool wood. He seemed to be in a kitchen/dinning area, and he was protected at the moment by some sort of breakfast bar, but he knew it wouldn't be long. He just had to catch his breath, and then he would attempt to find a new hiding spot.
They were supposed to be meeting with the other Avengers in the old Stark tower, but when Clint had shown up, and Natasha went psycho, everyone else just kept their distance. So now Clint had no idea where anyone else was, he was being hunted down by his pissed off partner in a tower he wasn't even familiar with, and he had no way of knowing anything other than the fact that his death was imminent. Great.
Suddenly chills went up Clint's spine. He could feel her. She was closing in. Clint was surprised it had taken her as long as it did. He leaned his face against the side of the counter, and breathed in slowly, ready to fight, or die trying. He closed his eyes, and listened. A ringing noise filled his ears. He was willing to bet his life and his best bow that if he looked around the corner he would find Natasha, standing in the doorway, a bloody knife ready in her hand, just like a horror film.
"Uh, Barton?"
Clint could have jumped a mile into the air. Instead, he opened his eyes dramatically, and found himself looking up at a very confused Pepper. Clint breathed in, then looked around, and found the room empty. He had been so sure...
"Yeah? Sorry Pepper, I thought someone was following me," Clint mumbled, still looking around.
"Right. Natasha. She's still loose. Tony told me that if I saw you, that you're free to go. Obviously you and Miss Romanoff need to sort out some problems before we can fully request you two to come live here, but we'd like you to think it over. Tony wants you to move in right now, but I think that that is just because he wants to watch you and Miss Romanoff, quote, 'go at it.'"
Clint was still looking wildly around, and he had slipped a gun from his belt.
"Uh, yeah. We'll get this settled. Thanks. Hey, would you, uh, would you mind showing me to the door? I kind of got lost."
Pepper gave a small smile, while trying to hide her disdain at Clint's gun wielding personality. "Sure. Follow me please."
Pepper led Clint back through the room, and back onto the stairway. Clint tensed as he followed Pepper down, feeling as if he was being watched. Eventually, Clint realized that he hadn't spoken in a while, and that his actions could be classified as rude.
"I'm really sorry about all of this Pepper. I didn't think Natasha would be this mad, or cause this much trouble. We'll sort this out. Somewhere where there aren't any sharp and dangerous weapons."
"It's quite alright. Give us a heads up though when you intend to move in. That would be very helpful."
"I will. I'll tell Tasha too, if I ever get through to her."
Pepper and Clint reached a platform with a door for another floor, and just as Clint was about to continue following Pepper on, he heard a noise from behind him. He whipped around, and raised his gun at the ready. He didn't see anything, but that was far from being a good thing. Clint scanned the area once more, then turned back to talk to Pepper again, only to find the strawberry blonde gone. Clint froze.
He slowly turned around again. Natasha was dangling upside down, her face mere centimeters from his face.
"I'm not done with you, Barton."
Clint felt her hot, sticky breath, and instantly was flooded with fear. He yelled out, then turned to open the door on the platform, but it was locked. Clint didn't know where Pepper was, or if she was alright, but he took off running yet again. He couldn't do anything to help her in this exact moment. He knew that Natasha's problem was with him, and with him only, and that she wouldn't seriously injure Pepper. He hoped.
Just once Clint glanced back to see if Natasha was still after him. What he saw caused a sort of crazed fear to explode in the pit of his stomach, and he felt sure that he was going to be sick.
Natasha had a curved set of throwing knives attached to her belt, with one blade already ready in her hand. Her face was determined, but the slight sneer that was playing around her tricky mouth is what really set Clint on edge. She was enjoying him fearing her.
"Natasha! Just put down the knives! We can talk this over, can't we?"
Clint let out a high pitched yelp as he dodged a knife that went whizzing just by his face. He was pretty sure that Natasha was meaning to miss, right? She didn't actually want to kill him, did she?
"Oh no, sweetheart. We're beyond talking now. So tell me, was your video game, fun?" she hissed, following Clint as he bounded down the stairs.
"Yes, it was! Thanks for asking darling! I played Grand Theft Auto, Call Of Duty, and a bunch of other cool games that I haven't been able to play in a while! What was it you did? Help take down SHIELD or something? Oh yeah, thanks for taking down the one organization that would pay crazies like me!" Clint spat back at her.
He was trying to get under her skin so that he could calm her down, but it was a little hard since he was quickly running out of places to run. The stairs ended in a few floors.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know that you worked for HYDRA, since that's the organization that I helped take down! Well, that makes killing you that much sweeter!"
Clint ducked as another knife went whizzing by seriously close to his head. He knew he needed to get into a room and devise an exit strategy, but the question was, how? On the next platform, he tried a door, and surprisingly, it opened. Clint slipped inside, then slammed it shut on Natasha's face. Knife after knife was sent into the door. Clint heard each and every one of them stick into place.
He thought quickly, then pushed a nearby bookshelf across the door so that it wouldn't open. Just to make sure, he added a chair, another shelf of sorts, and some other heavy objects to prevent Natasha from coming into the room. Once he was sure that there was no way that his crazed partner could get through the door, Clint began thinking of an exit strategy.
There were no windows where he was at, indicating he was below ground. He thought about air vents, when he realized that that is exactly how Natasha would come in, now that he had blocked the door. Clint locked the vents closed, but knew that it was only a matter of time. His only option was to wait until he heard Natasha in the vents, and then slip out through the door.
Clint pulled away his pile of heavy objects, feeling stupid for piling them there. Just as he finished pulling the last bookshelf away, he heard a noise in the vents. She was being loud for some reason, but Clint didn't know why. He tried the door. That was why.
Natasha had jammed the door with a knife, making it impossible to open, even without the bookshelves and chairs. Clint was trapped, and she knew it, so she was letting him know that death was approaching by making as much noise as possible.
Clint took a deep breath, then began shooting at the door. He had nothing left to lose. All his cards were in. He was done.
He stopped shooting as he heard the vent rattle as she tried to open it, then her tools clicking as she picked the lock. He felt her drop to the ground behind him, then walk over to him, purring lightly. He felt the pressure of her hands on his back as she let out a soft meow.
Purring? Meow?
Clint flashed open his eyes. He jumped as he realized that his cat was crawling all over him, purring and meowing, waiting to be fed. Clint sat up, and rubbed his head, pushing his cat to the floor. He checked his phone. It was almost ten in the afternoon. Clint cursed aloud.
He had a meeting with the rest of the Avengers that afternoon, to discuss what to do now that SHIELD was gone, and HYDRA was everywhere. It was the first time that Clint would see Natasha in over two years, and he sincerely hoped that his whacked-out dream would not turn into reality.
So, really bad, right? I have no idea where this came from, and I apologize. The cat thing at the end just sort of exploded out of nowhere, so yeah. Let me know how ridiculously bad this was to make sure that I've actually gone crazy.
And to those who actually read my terrible work, I thank you, and I wanted to let you know that my other stories will be updated soon!
