A/N a more angsty chapter this time, and longer, as a thank you for all the support I've had with this story. Hopefully I did this justice.
Clint was in the kitchen with Stark and Cap when he heard Natasha return. She had been gone for the better part of four hours. Thor had already left, searching for answers, and Banner was outside on the porch, mulling over a cup of coffee. He snapped his attention back to the conversation going on around him.
"Which one of you actually wears the trousers in this relationship?" Stark asked loudly. He was still coming to terms with the idea of his two… favourite wasn't really the word but okay, favourite… assassins being married. Steve rolled his eyes. Clint was beginning to wish that he'd slipped some of Nat's "spices" into Tony's coffee; then he might get a break from all these questions.
How good is the sex? How did you propose? Why wasn't I your best man? Seriously, you picked your handler as best man? Do we still call her Romanoff? Or is it Romanoff-Barton? I bet she likes Mrs Barton in the bedroom. The list went on…
He was considering actually answering Stark's latest question but the man had already moved on. "So when are we going to see some toddler assassins running around this house?" He asked, only half in jest.
A knife buried itself in the wood between Tony's pinky and ring fingers with a loud thunk. In his haste to escape, he fell backwards over his chair and landed heavily on the floor. Natasha was standing in the doorway.
"Natasha. We have rules. No weapons at the table." Clint said sharply. When she looked at him, she smirked, but her eyes were cold.
"Yeah, yeah I know." She said "Though technically the weapon is in the table, not at the table." Her voice was flatter than it would usually be when brushing off an admonishment, not that Steve or Tony would notice. Tony was crouching behind the now upright chair, trying to decide whether he would need to flee in the next five seconds.
Clint walked over to the table and retrieved Nat's knife, giving Tony a look that said 'you can get up but keep your trap shut.' Tony obliged, albeit hesitantly, eyeing Nat the same way an antelope does a lion on the prowl. She ignored him and poured herself a cup of coffee. Clint handed her the knife and leant against the counter, their shoulders just touching.
Children was a difficult subject. Nat had told him about the procedure the Red Room had performed on her, the graduation ceremony. Even if she were able to conceive, having a child would also present a commitment that neither of them wanted. Not a commitment to each other- they already had that. Not a commitment to the child- they would love that child with everything they had. No, a child would force them to commit to continue living if either of them were killed. Although they had never spoken of it, they both knew that if one of them were to die, the other would continue just long enough to avenge them. Then they would follow.
See you on the other side. It was what they promised each other before each mission. It didn't matter which side that was.
"We would not raise assassins." He told Tony quietly. For once, he had the decency to respond with awkward silence, an almost apologetic look on his face. Nat took the mug in her hands and turned to leave. "Besides," Clint continued, "What makes you think we'll even live that long?" He gave a small chuckle to lighten his question. "Sometimes I wonder if you forget that we don't have an armoured suit or magic hammer or a supersoldier serum or an Other Guy to keep us safe. Someday we'll get caught out." He shrugged. It was a fact of life, and they were nothing if not realists.
Steve frowned. "You could retire?"
"And grow old together in a house with too many rooms?" Natasha asked bitterly. Both Tony and Steve flinched at her tone. Clint sighed as she slipped silently from the room.
Natasha was in turmoil as she walked out on to the porch. Bruce was still there, staring into the distance, deep in thought. She went over to him, finding his calm pensivity reassuring. She took a gulp of her coffee, enjoying the slight searing feeling as the bitter liquid coursed down her throat. After a moment, she said softly, "I'm sorry I wasn't there."
His lips were set into a grim line. "The world has seen him now. Seen the real Hulk. There's no coming back from that." He bowed his head. "All I create is fear and chaos, I have no place here."
"You're wrong Bruce." She replied.
"You don't fear me?" His voice was flat. He didn't believe her.
"Not you, no. The Other Guy sure, I'd be a fool not to." She sighed quietly, her grip on the coffee mug tightening as her mind lead itself back to her adolescence. "The people who trained me, they teach you that fear is a weakness. So they force you to confront each of your fears and eradicate it. The theory is simple: scared of heights? Don't fall. Scared of the dark? Make a light. Scared of the unknown? Know. Scared of a man? Kill him. Fear becomes an alien concept, you forget what it feels like."
Bruce looked at her, confused. "But you fear the Other Guy?"
She nodded. "There are only two things I truly fear." She whispered. "The Other Guy… and Clint." She paused for a moment. "Care to take a guess at why that is?" She looked him in the eye and saw only understanding.
"Because you couldn't kill either of them." He finished for her.
"The day of New York, when the Helicarrier was attacked, was the single most terrifying day of my life…" She trailed off. She didn't need to explain why. She'd never forgotten the fear that had paralysed her after she fled the Hulk, nor the fear that had set her limbs ablaze as she fought Clint. Despite the pain it would have caused him, had it come down to it, she would have allowed him to kill her rather than take his life.
"I only fear that which I cannot kill. What does that say about me?" She stopped and poured the remainder of the coffee down her throat. "There are different kinds of monsters, Bruce. You think the Other Guy is the only one on this team?" She shook her head and walked back inside. Or she would have but Clint blocked her path.
"You, me, sparring, now." He growled, grabbing her arm and marching her to the grass at the side of the house. He wasn't angry, he was frustrated. With the witch and her mind games, with Natasha and with himself. It was the same frustration that he knew Nat herself had been victim to after his time under Loki's control.
They had worked it out in much the same way then.
They took up their positions but for once, he was the one to initiate an attack. He started slow, testing her, feeling her out. He didn't need to. He knew her as well as he knew himself. As their pace increased, she matched him blow for blow, parrying each cut, punch and kick and returning them. It was a deadly dance; a single miss-step and the whole thing would fall apart. Neither cared that the rest of the team had gathered outside to watch, neither could see the awe on their faces. Their attention was focused entirely on each other, on the tiny tells that allowed them to predict their next move. Moves and countermoves.
He pressed harder in his attack, forcing her to retaliate. Her striking red hair tossed wildly as she whirled and dodged, sweat was pouring off them both. He tried to throw her off guard by switching up the rhythm, choosing a kick to the knee where he might usually elbow her stomach but she caught him with ease and drove him back. She always was the better at hand-to-hand combat, even if he'd never admit it aloud.
But he could feel her holding back, afraid that in a split second she might lose control, or lose herself and actually hurt him. He could see the flickers in her eyes as the younger Black Widow fought through and then was beaten back by Natasha. It was in one of these flickers that her guard dropped just a fraction; enough for him to duck beneath her kick tackle her to the ground.
He straddled her and pinned each of her wrists, breathing heavily. She was by no means immobilised but she made no move to throw him off. The pain in her eyes was raw to see. It was a pain he had seen all too often in their early days. "You are not a monster!" He shouted hoarsely.
Tears glazed her eyes but the guilt and pain in them did not lessen. He released one of her wrists and stroked his palm against her cheek, leaning forward so that his forehead rested against hers. "Natasha, my love." He murmured sadly, "Do you think I would have spared you, all those years ago if that were the case?" He brushed his thumb over the ring on her finger. "Do you think I would have married you?"
A few treacherous tears formed tiny rivulets across her skin and she stared up at him, searching his eyes for something, he wasn't sure what. He could see the guilt and pain begin to recede from hers though, and that was all he wanted. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "You are so much more than what they made you." He whispered.
When he looked back at her this time, all he saw was determination and exhaustion. Determination to wipe the red from her ledger. Exhaustion because no matter how hard they worked, however many people they saved, the red would always be there. Then he saw acceptance. They accepted the red, and its defining role in their lives. Acceptance it that it drove them to do better, to be better. And that was good enough for him, good enough for her.
She brought her hand to his cheek and smiled softly. Then the world span as she flipped him, reversing their positions. "You made me more." She said quietly, a small smile on her lips. She stood up and extended a hand to him, helping him up. He stopped her though and looked her in the eye once again.
"You were always more than the Black Widow, Nat. I just helped you to see it."
A/N okay so I'm probably done with the farm stuff now, unless there's something else anyone wants to see there. I'm not sure which scene I'll rewrite next- I'd like to go back and do a lighter chapter for part of the party, but I might do when natasha is taken by ultron or when clint almost dies. Of course if you've got another scene you'd like to see then by all means fire away. I'll count up votes (so review/pm) for which I'll write next. Over to you guys :D