AN I don't own Marvel/Avengers or any of its characters! Short Clintasha oneshot post Loki incident!
They had fought before. They trained together ever since signing onto shield and fought for practice countless times. They had even truly fought, to win not to train, once or twice when they'd been reduced to that. It always drove a little wedge between them for a while. Until it melted away. But not this one, not this time.
"Now, you sound like yourself." She liked the little smile she earned with that comment, even if it disappeared after only a few seconds. It was progress, at least, and he was already so much different. Her stomach churned when she flashed back to that catwalk. But, not right now. Now, she was focused on him.
"Maybe, but you don't." He was serious again, making her sit beside him before continuing. "You're not a soldier, Nat, and yet here you are wanting to wade off into war? Why? What did Loki do to you?" If they hadn't been being recorded, maybe, or if she hadn't known Coulson was standing outside that door listening to their every word. Maybe then, she would have answered truthfully.
"I got red in my ledger, I would like to wipe it out." He nodded, but his face called her bluff. For once, she didn't have to jerk her head at the camera in the corner or towards the hall for him to back off-he was always the one who understood it without being told. Later, maybe, when they were actually alone.
It was two days after the battle of New York. She'd honestly forgotten about their conversation for the time being-people, or space shit, trying to kill you had that general effect-but he hadn't. That became clear the second she heard the keypad outside her door beep. Coulson didn't know her code, Tony would have just cornered her, and no one else was brave enough to find her in her room. Which left Clint. And, sure enough, the lock clicked and flashed green. He was the only one who know the right code, and kept up with its changing cycle.
"I was wondering when you'd find me." He shrugged, examining her desk despite the fact that it was barren. There was so much distance between them, it felt like shards of glass in her skin. They were alone, weren't they? But, that didn't matter, she realized, because he wasn't keeping the distance for anyone else.
"You don't have to be scared, Clint. I can handle myself." He just flashed her that typical little smile that was half sad, half happy.
"Your abilities were never called into question." No, of course not. No one was that stupid.
"Neither were yours." That same little smile, like he couldn't decide if he was glad they were bantering like usual or sad because of the distance.
"No, but my loyalties were, and that's worse." It was her turn to shrug, then, and cross her legs on the bed. Her way of making room for him, and he knew that. But he didn't take it.
"You couldn't have done anything and you know that." No response. They'd had this conversation a hundred times, both verbally and through eye contact, and it always ended here. He wouldn't argue anymore, and she wouldn't repeat herself. But he sighed and opened his mouth.
"What did Loki do to you? You never told me." She shook her head, though, and sat back. Waiting for him. They talked like this more than they probably should have but he wasn't fulfilling his part of the deal. Information, in exchange for less distance. He rolled his eyes at her but sat on the edge of the bed, as far away from her as he could manage.
"Well? What did he do that made you so willing to go marching off to war? And don't give me that ledger shit, Natasha. I know you better than that." Slowly, she let herself sigh. His eyes were grey, she could see that, and he was back to his usual self minus a bit of confidence, but she still had to take a second to remind herself. They were grey, not blue. No Loki, no mind control, just Clint.
"He took something of mine, something I cared deeply about." Even without looking, she felt his suspicious, squinting little frown when it hit her. He didn't believe her. But, she wasn't lying-just like she hadn't been before, with the ledger-it just wasn't the whole truth.
"What did he take? You don't care that much about anything I've ever seen. Not money, not family, not a job or reputation. He could have threatened you with the Red Room but that wouldn't be taking something of yours, even if it did affect you. You don't care about anything, that's the point. You're supposed to have nothing, so that people like him can't take anything from you. So what the hell did he take?"
"You." Those swirling grey eyes stared at her, disbelieving. Immediately, she regretted saying anything because she'd basically just confessed to being madly in love with him in assassin-speak but he just stared at her, like a deer in headlights. Was it really that shocking? They were close, anyone could see that. The whole point was to have nothing, he was right, so that nothing could be taken from you but… It was different. Clint was an assassin, she knew that, and he'd been held hostage and tortured countless times but she trusted him and his abilities. He always came back. And if he died? Sure, she would have been sad, she would have missed him, but she would have known he died on his terms. But Loki changed that, Loki took Clint from himself, too. That was taking something from her. That was Loki taking the person she cared about and rendering him helpless-so no amount of training or skill could save him-that was Loki making him a slave. Maybe that hit home a little too hard for her, but it made it personal. Because he was personal.
"Natasha…" Her full name, not Nat or Tash or Tasha. She secretly hated the sound of it on his lips because he only used it when he was upset. Was he really going to lecture her about personal attachments right now, though? When she'd given him his answer?
"Yeah, I know. And in any other situation I would have kept my distance and I wouldn't have made it personal. But, Clint? He took you, made you try to fight against something you'd never been trained for, shit he used fucking mind control! You didn't have a chance, neither of us did. It was different, okay? So save the lecture and don't worry, I'll let you die next time." He could go to hell. This was exactly why she hadn't just given him a straight answer beforehand, and why she hesitated to tell him even now. She could handle herself, she knew how to be a damn assassin. It wasn't like she was in love with him. And, yet, here he was getting ready to lecture her on having no attachments because he certainly wasn't attached to her and she should know that and-
"Thank you, Tash." Oh. Wait, what?
"Thank you?" He nodded, scooting so that their knees touched on the bed.
"Yeah, thank you. For everything." For saving your ass, you mean? But she let it go because he nudged her knee, giving her a peace offering. She rolled her eyes and nudged him back. That was all he needed to close the gap between them and pull her into a tight hug, so tight she could feel his pulse against her skin. Her body relaxed without her permission.
"Come on," she whispered. "You need to sleep."
"What if I-?" But she stopped him, pressing a gentle little kiss to his lips until he shut up.
"You aren't going to hurt me. If you try, I promise I'll give you a concussion this time, okay?" He hesitated for a second, but nodded. And then they tumbled back onto her bed, tangling their limbs together and their hands in each other's hair as they snuggled together. His heartbeat against her cheek was like a lullaby.
"You know," he said softly. "Technically hawks eat spiders." She snorted and shoved his chest, but pulled him back against her almost immediately.
"I'm poisonous, you would die anyways." He shrugged.
"Yeah, but I still ate you, didn't I?"
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