Chapter 10
A/N: Bit of a time jump in this chapter :) This was probably my favorite chapter to write so far though, so I hope you enjoy it! Leave me a review, let's chat!
xXxXx
1 MONTH LATER
"Okay," Lena grunted as Natasha Romanoff landed a blow to her left shoulder, "I've tried talking to him," she dodged Nat's cross and went into a crouch, spinning on her knees to get on the other side of her opponent, "But he's just too busy being a," she raised her leg in a high kick that Natasha easily evaded, "Stubborn ass!"
"Yeah but you know that about Clint," Natasha replied through labored breaths as she grabbed Lena's hand mid-punch and spun herself around, "He just needs time to figure out," she winced as Lena kicked backwards into her shin, "What he's feeling."
"It's been a month!" Lena shouted as she spun on her heel, throwing an anger-fueled blow towards Natasha's neck that was easily deflected. "He should have – oof!"
Lena was cut off as Natasha tripped up her feet and shoved her to the ground with her forearm, the senior agent bringing her thumb and index finger in the shape of a gun up next to Lena's head. "Bang. You're dead," she said dryly.
Lena scoffed, shoving Natasha off of her chest. "Like I was saying," she muttered, following her friend outside of the sparring ring where the few people that had been watching them began to disperse. "He should have figured it out by now. Oh and by the way, that fight didn't count. I'm distracted and emotional so you can't hold it against me. We're still tied."
Natasha barked out a laugh, glancing over her shoulder to give Lena an amused expression. "And what, you won't ever get distracted or emotional in the field?"
"No of course not, because I am the picture perfect example of controlled emotions," Lena said sarcastically, bumping shoulders with the redhead as she walked over to a bench and plopped down on it.
"Yeah sure you are," Natasha muttered, handing her water bottle over to her friend. "Look, you need to stop whining about Clint not being able to read your mind and just go talk to him."
Lena rolled her eyes, untying her tennis shoes to avoid looking up at Natasha.
The past month had been confusing for Lena, to say the least. She thought that after that day with Clint in the very gym she was sitting in at that moment, something might happen between them. She had read all the signs correctly, she knew that much. There was something between them – something that went beyond physical attraction. So naturally she had expected for that something – whatever it may be – to be acted upon.
But it never came. If anything, Clint distanced himself as much as he possibly could from Lena considering he was training her (with Natasha's help, to be fair). But the flirting had completely ceased. Not on Lena's part of course, at least not for the first few days. But when every attempt she made to get a rise out of Clint epically and awkwardly failed, she pulled back little-by-little as well.
"It's more complicated than that, Tasha," Lena finally said, shaking her head. "It's not like I expect him to read my mind, I'm not that naïve. It's just that…"
"You want to know why he distanced himself," Natasha finished for her.
"Yes! I mean, there was something going on between us. He was this light, happy, attractive guy that made me laugh and seemed to actually give a crap about me beyond the whole Asgardian stuff, but then out of nowhere he starts this, 'I'm a SHIELD agent and I don't know how to feel things' bullshit." Natasha burst out laughing at Lena's impersonation of Clint.
"That was actually pretty good," Natasha chuckled. "But you can't take it personally. Clint just gets like this sometimes."
"I know that I haven't done anything wrong, but all of this combined with the fact that I haven't heard from Thor or Heimdall at all and I have absolutely no idea what's going on back in Asgard and I'm just… I'm angry, Natasha. I'm freaking angry," Lena said honestly.
"I know. And you're allowed to be angry. But don't let that anger cloud the rest of your judgement. Besides," Natasha said as she stood up, grabbing her bag from her locker. "Word down the grapevine says that you're getting your first mission soon."
"Really?" Lena asked as she sat up straighter.
Natasha chuckled. "Hey, that's just what's going around the rumor mill." She paused, looking down at Lena thoughtfully. The two girls had formed an odd friendship, but a friendship all the same. "You know I can talk to Clint about this if you want me to," she offered kindly.
Lena shook her head. "No, no way. This is my problem, and I'll deal with it. My… whatever that I have going on with Clint isn't going to interfere with your friendship with him. I won't let it. You two have to keep on being the scary master assassin duo without my issues coming in between."
"Yeah well," Natasha shrugged her bag over her shoulder, "That duo could easily be turning into a trio depending on how your first mission goes." She smiled down at her friend. "I'll see you around, Lena. Call me if you need to. Oh! And are we still on for this Friday?"
"You mean the Halloween scare-a-thon?" Lena waggled her eyebrows. "Hell yeah. I'll bring the food if you bring the alcohol."
"Deal. I'll see you tomorrow, rookie," Natasha said with a wave as she left the gym. Lena waved back, pulling on her flip flops as she headed for the showers.
As she turned the water on as hot as it could go, stripping out of her sweaty clothes before stepping under the shower head, Lena could still feel her earlier anger coursing through her veins.
Clint Barton was easily the most frustrating man to walk the earth – no, correction: he was the most frustrating man across all nine realms. He was infuriating! He gave all the signs that he was interested, said the sweet things, and then yanked it all back the second that Lena thought he was going to act on it. For the past month it had always been serious business between them and nothing more. He never looked at her in anything other than a professional way (which Lena appreciated, but only to a certain extent), always turned down her offers to hang out outside of training, and never played along with her teasing or joked with her in any way. It was maddening.
And it had been like that for the past month. Granted, it meant that she had learned a hell of a lot more in her training than she would have had something romantic formed between them, but that was beside the point. In all honesty the SHIELD training was a joke to her most of the time considering she had trained under both Jem for two years and then Asgardian warriors for 3 months. But learning how to shoot a gun and throw knives like a pro had been fun, especially since she had caught on so quickly. She was just as good as Clint and Natasha both.
But while the training was enjoyable at times and it wasn't as if Clint was being rude or disrespectful to her, it was driving Lena up the wall that he had been so capable of just flipping a switch and becoming completely indifferent to her. Fortunately she had Natasha to talk to, and of course Coulson and Fitzsimmons, but Lena was greedy – she wanted Clint in her corner too.
Lena leaned her forearms up against the shower wall and closed her eyes as the scalding hot water poured over her head and down the rest of her toned body. She was happy with this new chapter in her life, she truly was. She had new friends, a new home, and new skills that would help her protect others. But she wasn't nearly as happy as she could be. Every day she worried about her family and friends back in Asgard, her mind still completely befuddled at why her brother Loki would betray her, Thor, and their mother and father so easily. And on top of that – why the hell hadn't Thor come back yet? It had been a month and all Lena and Jane were getting was radio silence.
And while Natasha was great at listening to Lena's rants and ramblings about her strangely dysfunctional family, Lena wanted – no, needed – to talk to Clint about it. He had been there with her in New Mexico, he had seen the dynamic between her and her brothers and friends even if Loki hadn't been there in person. But how could she talk to him about any of that when he seemed so adamant on closing himself off to her completely?
"Jackass," Lena muttered under her breath as she shut off the water and got out of the shower.
In just a few minutes time she was dressed in dark jeans and a loose gray button-up blouse that she tucked into her pants. After towel drying her hair – which was much longer than it was a month ago when she joined SHIELD – she ran some mouse through it and tossed on a bit of eye makeup before heading out, gym bag in tow.
After walking through the gym and waving to a few of the agents that she knew, Lena rounded the corner only to run right into someone and stagger back.
"Ouch, watch where the hell you're going!" The person shouted as Lena rubbed her now aching forehead with her hand.
"Sorry, I was – oh. It's you," she muttered upon looking up and seeing none other than Brock Rumlow.
Rumlow looked down at her and smirked, his eyes blatantly glancing down at where her shirt opened just above her cleavage. "Ah, Your Highness, good to see you again. How's life going down here with all of the lowly peasants?"
"Shutup, Rumlow. The 'Your Highness' gag ended a few weeks ago, you can drop it now," Lena snapped as she tried to walk around him. Rumlow side-stepped in front of her though and she took a deep breath to try and calm her temper.
"Oooh, you speak with such authority!" Rumlow mocked. "Should I ask the engineers in the lab to maybe make you a tiara? Maybe that little shit Fitz and his pretty girlfriend can fix you up something–"
"I'm sorry, what did you just call Fitz?" Lena cut him off, letting her bag drop off of her shoulder and to the floor as she stepped up closer to Rumlow, her eyes flaring up in anger.
"You heard me," Rumlow snapped back. "That little Scottish bastard and his snotty girl Simmons would gladly–"
Lena moved quicker than Rumlow expected, jumping forward and bringing a sharp right hook to his jaw before shoving him back against the wall to their right. Rumlow cursed, grabbing her wrist before she could move again and twisting them around so that she was the one against the wall. Lena cried out in pain, then inhaled sharply when Rumlow lifted his forearm up against her throat, making her choke on her own breath.
"That was a really stupid move you little bitch," Rumlow hissed. "I oughta–"
But Rumlow never got to finish the rest of that sentence because suddenly he was being thrown off of Lena and up against the opposite wall. Lena slumped to the ground, taking a deep breath and blinking rapidly. She looked up to the opposite side of the hallway to see Clint holding Rumlow against the wall with a knife at his throat.
"Clint–" Lena gasped, scrambling to her feet.
"You ever touch her again and you'll be asking me for a merciful death, do you understand me?" Clint hissed in a dark voice that shook Lena to her core. She was frozen where she stood, unable to do anything but watch.
"Well would you look at that," Rumlow sneered. "The shining knight has a thing for the princess, huh? What are you going to do, Barton?"
"That's a very dangerous question to ask me right now," Clint said venomously. Rumlow flinched when the knife dug just a little bit deeper into his skin.
"Clint that's enough," Lena finally found her voice. But Clint paid her no mind, his livid eyes boring into Rumlow's. "That's enough, let him go."
"You know she threw the first punch, Barton," Rumlow said. "I could have your precious little Cadet kicked right out of SHIELD for that."
"Go ahead and do that," Clint countered. "I'm sure Fury would love to hear about those weapons you're dealing under the table from your last mission." Rumlow was visibly shaken at that, his eyes widening and his jaw twitching. "So yeah, go ahead and say something." Clint leaned in closer. "I dare you," he hissed.
A few more tense seconds passed before Clint finally jerked away from Rumlow, shoving him back against the wall again in the process. Rumlow looked enraged, his chest heaving up and down as he glanced between Lena and Clint. He shook his head, wiping his hand across the back of his mouth where his lip was bleeding from Lena's punch.
"Bitch," he spat in her direction.
"Walk away, Rumlow," Clint said immediately, his eyes never leaving the other agent.
Finally, after yet another tense silence, Rumlow scoffed and turned on his heel, striding off down the hallway. He kicked over a trashcan angrily before turning the corner.
Lena let out a relieved breath as soon as he was gone, but her relief quickly disappeared when Clint rounded on her.
"Are you crazy?" He asked incredulously, and Lena was glad that the hallway was still empty.
"I… what?"
"You threw the first punch against a dick like Brock Rumlow? How stupid can you be?"
"Excuse me?" Lena found her voice again as anger began to course through her veins. "What the hell, Clint? It's not stupid to show a guy like that that you won't take his shit! Oh and I'm fine by the way, thanks for asking," she added sarcastically.
"Brock Rumlow is one of the best fighters in SHIELD, you didn't have a chance against him without your staff!" Clint shouted, turning on his heel and rubbing his hands down his face before rounding on her again. "Why the hell did you do it anyway? Was it the princess comments?"
"No!" Lena defended herself. "I don't give a shit about his lame ass jokes! He was talking bad about Fitzsimmons!"
"Fitzsimmons? Fitz and…" Clint shook his head, laughing without true humor. "You've got to be kidding me. You punched Brock Rumlow for talking bad about the brains? Everyone talks about the brains!"
"That doesn't make it okay," Lena hissed, shocking Clint with her ferocity. Her expression was dead serious. "And quite frankly I don't give a damn if I was outmatched, because I don't have it in me to watch someone treat others as their subordinates just because they're stronger and tougher. Fitz and Simmons both have more heart than a scumbag like Brock Rumlow does on any day. So screw you, Clint. I won't let you make me feel like an idiot for standing up for what's right."
With that, Lena stomped past Clint, shoving his shoulder with her own in the process. He stood there stunned, shocked by her speech.
"Wait, wait," he said quickly, turning around and grabbing her wrist to pull her back to him. She yanked her hand away and looked up at him furiously.
"What?" She spat. "Wanna make me feel like crap some more?" She asked. "Or are you going back to pretending I'm just some random cadet in training that you don't give two shits about?"
Clint was speechless, his expression removed from all traces of earlier frustration. To Lena's surprise, he actually looked hurt.
"Lena, I…" he stumbled over his words, "You can't actually think I don't care about you," he said softly. "I just held a knife to another agent's throat for you!"
"Yeah, and I appreciate you defending me," Lena said honestly. "But that doesn't make the past month of you completely ignoring me just disappear."
"I've been training you! I see you every day!"
"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, Clint!" Lena all but roared, catching him off guard. She was pissed. "If I'm nothing more to you than just some girl that you recruited for SHIELD then say so. I'll be fine, trust me. But don't pretend that there wasn't something going on between us before you decided to become Agent Stoic. And don't pretend that I haven't made it perfectly clear where I stand."
Clint was speechless. Shit, he thought to himself. If only she understood where he was coming from though, that he had his reasons for distancing himself from her and it was killing him. That when he saw Rumlow shoving her up against the wall he felt a rage inside him that scared him more than anything else. Lena Sullivan scared him, and that's why he had distanced himself, among other reasons. But how could he articulate that to her without screwing up even more?
"Lena… if you would just let me explain–"
"Barton. Sullivan," a voice suddenly interrupted, making the two snap their heads over to see Sitwell standing there watching them curiously. "Conference room next to Communications in five minutes," he said simply, glancing between the two of them one last time before walking away.
Clint sighed, licking his dry lips before turning back to Lena. "If you would just let me explain–"
"We better get to the conference room," she interrupted him tersely. "We're probably getting a mission."
"Right… yeah," Clint said slowly, never looking away from her now sad eyes. And what sucked the most was that he was the cause of that and he hadn't even had a chance to explain his actions.
Now how the hell was he supposed to fix it?
xXxXx
"Barton, Sullivan," Maria Hill greeted the two as they stepped into the conference room. Natasha and Coulson were in there as well, talking quietly and looking at a file together on the other side of the table.
"Maria," Lena greeted in a tight voice.
Clint watched Hill's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Ever since Lena had met Fury's right hand woman she had made it her personal goal in life to be overly polite and kind to the all-business senior agent that was always super serious. Natasha and Coulson looked up as well at the very un-Lena-like greeting. Clint shook his head briefly at Natasha when she shot him a curious look as he sat down beside Lena.
"Right," Hill said awkwardly, sitting down across from them as well. "Well as both of you know, when Romanoff was in Singapore last month, she took out the leader of the Ahmad weapons distribution named Kit Ahmad."
Hill slid another file over to Lena and Clint, the two of them looking down at it – both immediately shifting into SHIELD agent mode and forcing their dispute to the back of their mind where they would deal with it later.
"And while we got rid of Kit, his younger brother Remy," she leaned across the table and pointed at a different picture in the file, "Has decided to take up the family legacy."
"The legacy of being a scumbag?" Lena murmured under her breath and Clint chuckled, but quickly fell silent when Lena shot him a glare.
"Unfortunately, yes," Coulson jumped in. "But Remy is much, much worse than his older brother was."
"How so?" Clint asked.
"He doesn't just traffic weapons, he traffics people," Natasha said bluntly, though everyone in the room could sense the anger behind her words. "Men, women, children, he doesn't care. We've been tracking his movements for the past two weeks but he's smart. Unlucky for him," she smirked, "We're smarter."
"So where is he?" Lena asked.
"Dubai," Hill answered. "We've got an inside source there that spotted him and two other infamous traffickers together at the Burj Al Arab. Our intel says they're going to be there for the next week."
"So what do you want us to do?" Lena asked. "Are me, Clint, and Nat just going to bust up inside the richest hotel in the world and take little Remy out?"
"While that does sound fun," Natasha smirked, "I won't be joining you. Remy Ahmad and his associates know my face. Very well actually, I'm at the top of their hit list."
"Oh how nice," Lena said sarcastically, making Natasha laugh.
"You and Barton will be posing as Ross and Felicity Lawrence," Coulson said, standing up and handing them two individual files. "The Lawrence name is well known throughout multiple human trafficking rings. Before SHIELD got to them, they were infamous for selling kidnapped babies to rich couples around the world."
Clint felt Lena tense up beside him, her fists clenching so tight that the file she was holding crinkled at the edges.
"The Lawrences are already expected to attend this sick little convention at the Burj Al Arab this week," Natasha said. "You two are going to go in undercover, find out where they're storing the weapons and people, relay that location back to us, then take out Remy."
Clint looked to Lena to see how she was reacting to everything, but she had her head buried in Felicity Lawrence's file, her eyes scanning every line.
"And Sullivan," Hill said, grabbing Lena's attention, "If this mission goes well… you'll be one of us. A full SHIELD agent." She paused. "Is that something you still want?"
Lena grinned. "Yes, ma'am."
"Good," Hill said shortly. "Make sure you two read up on your covers backwards and forwards, we can't afford any slip ups on this. And get some sleep, you leave at 0500 tomorrow morning."
With that, Hill, Coulson, and Natasha all stood up and headed towards the door while Clint and Lena stayed where they were. Natasha was the last to leave, pausing halfway through the door.
"Good luck, you two," she said with a smile. "And just a friendly suggestion – you two either need to go ahead and beat each other up or make out before you leave. You need to be focused, Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence."
As the door closed shut behind Natasha, Lena rolled her eyes and stood up, pacing to the other side of the table with her file in hand. She didn't bother looking over to Clint, but if she had she would've seen his cheeks slightly tinted from Natasha's 'friendly advice.' And if Lena weren't so annoyed with him and focused on her first mission, hers probably would've been too.
"So it says here that Felicity and Ross Lawrence have been married for five years," she murmured, rubbing her lip with her index finger as she tended to do when she was deep in thought.
"Lena," Clint said.
"What kind of relationship bonds over kidnapping children?" She ignored him.
"Lena."
"I mean what were their wedding vows? 'I, Felicity, pledge to love you and kidnap innocent children with you, until death do us part.'"
"Lena would you just–"
"What if they had kids of their own one day? Did they not think about how it might feel if someone–"
"Lena!" Clint raised his voice, finally grabbing her attention. "We need to talk about earlier."
"No actually, we don't," she snapped, not meeting his eyes. "We can do this mission perfectly fine, we're both professionals and one stupid argument doesn't change that."
"Oh really? Then why can't you look me in the eyes?" He asked softly.
Lena huffed, snapping her file shut and placing it on the table in front of her. She looked over at Clint, meeting his eyes with a frustrated expression, her lips pursed. "There?" She asked. "Happy?"
"No," Clint replied. "Because that's not the Lena look that I know best."
"Oh shutup Clint," she snapped back. "You don't know jack shit about me. You might though if you'd actually noticed my existence beyond the training room for the past four weeks."
"Look I know what it might seem like–"
"Oh it seems perfectly clear," Lena interrupted. "You freaked out because something was between us and you weren't feeling it anymore, so instead of just telling me that you backed away. Well just to let you know Barton, that's a really crappy thing to do."
A silence fell between them, Lena's eyes betraying the sadness and rejection she had been trying so hard to hide. She looked away from Clint, crossing her arms and staring at the wall.
"Is that what you think?" Clint finally broke the silence. "That I didn't like you anymore?" Then to Lena's surprise, he started to laugh. "Lena that's… that's ridiculous," he choked out in between his chuckles.
"Alright screw this," Lena snapped, snatching up off of the table and heading towards the door. "I'm not going to sit here and let you ridicule me when clearly you're the one–"
"Lena, stop, stop," Clint jumped up, blocking the doorway just before she could reach it. Lena huffed, looking away from where he stood barely even a foot in front of her. "I need you to let me explain."
Lena took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a brief second before finally looking up at Clint. She had to crane her neck slightly to meet his eyes and she was surprised when she saw that he was really looking at her for the first time in weeks. Not as a trainee, but just as her.
"So explain," she whispered.
Clint took a deep breath, willing himself to not think about how sexy her voice was when it got all husky and serious like that.
"What started between us in New Mexico, I can't… I don't understand it," Clint finally spoke. "I barely knew you, but I couldn't get you off my mind. It drove me nuts. And then when we got back here to HQ and we had our… moment, or whatever you want to call it, in the gym, I shouldn't have said what I did." Lena's face fell. "No, no, not because I didn't mean it," he corrected himself, "But because… I should've been realistic."
"Realistic about what?"
"You," he said instantly. "Me. Me and you and how… it just can't happen. That's why I backed away, to make it… easier for myself. I thought if I just treated you like I would any SHIELD recruit then I might actually learn to see you as one."
"That's…" Lena began to say, "Wait, what?" She spluttered incredulously. "Why can't it happen? Because we work for SHIELD? I thought they didn't care about that as long as we could draw the line on missions."
"Not that, no," Clint clarified. "It can't happen because…" he trailed off, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped, not knowing how to say it.
"Well?" Lena asked.
"Because… well because you're you!" He finally shouted, making Lena's eyebrows shoot up.
"I'm… me?"
"Yeah, you're..." Clint's voice dropped again and he looked at her confused expression with his mouth parted. "You're you," he stated again simply. "You're beautiful, and you fight like hell, and you're good. You just have this whole air about you that screams good person. I mean Christ, you risked your life to save that little girl in New Mexico, you gave up the chance to go to Asgard to work for SHIELD and look after Jane Foster, you make it your mission to be nice to Maria Hill, and you punched Brock Rumlow for making fun of Fitzsimmons! I mean who the hell does all of that?" He shouted incredulously. "You're too… you're just too good, Lena."
Lena's eyes squinted and her mouth parted as she stared up at Clint's wide green eyes and vulnerable expression.
"So, let me get this straight," she finally said, "You don't like me, because I'm… too good of a person?" She asked in confusion.
"No, no!" Clint said quickly. "It's not that I don't like you I just… I'm not… Ah dammit, I don't know how to say it!"
"Just spit it out, Clint! If you're worried about hurting my feelings we're a bit beyond that point so just say it for crying out loud!"
"I'm not good enough for you!"
Lena froze. Clint was breathing heavily, his eyes boring into her own. The small space between them seemed to grow thicker with tension as each silent second passed.
"I'm not good enough for you, Lena," Clint whispered. "You deserve someone that's as good as you are. You deserve someone that knows your world. You should be with some well-to-do Asgardian, or someone else as equally fan-freaking-tastic," he said bitterly. "I'm nobody. I'm just a SHIELD agent. No family, no fancy title to my name, nothing. You don't even know the first thing about my past because if you did, you wouldn't… you wouldn't see me the same way."
Lena stared up at him with her big eyes and Clint felt like she could see right into his very soul. A heavy sadness descended upon the pair, and Clint felt for sure that she was going to either slap him or walk out – or maybe both.
But she did neither of those things. Instead, she took a deep breath and licked her lips, gathering the courage to say her next words.
"Four months ago," she said in a shaky voice, "I was training at Jem's Gym back in Florida. You read about him in my file I'm sure. Well he was…" she trailed off, looking down and away from Clint as she smiled at the thought of her old friend, "He was a great man, he really was. And when we first met, he told me that he saw something in me. A goodness that I couldn't even see. And I believed him for two years. But four months ago, on my 22nd birthday and the anniversary of the day my uncle died," she said sadly, "I held Jem in my arms while he passed away. And one of the last things he said to me…" her voice cracked again as she had to pause as she forced herself to look up at Clint. "One of the last things he said to me was that I was good. Good in here." She placed her hand over her heart. "But then you know what I did?" She let out a sad laugh as a tear slipped down her cheek. "After the ambulance came and took him to the morgue, I got drunk and walked out to the beach. I had a screaming match with God, and then I waded out into the ocean."
"Lena," Clint said softly, a dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew where this story was going.
"I waded out into the ocean," she repeated, ignoring him, "And I swam way out. And then I let myself slip under the waves, hoping that I'd never have to face this shitty world ever again." She paused, her shaky breaths filling up the sounds of the otherwise empty conference room. "And then out of nowhere, I was whisked up to Asgard. Heimdall had been given orders to save me if my life were ever in serious danger. That's how I found out that my father was Odin."
"Lena I didn't know," Clint said softly.
"Of course you didn't know, I've never told anyone that," Lena muttered, looking down at her feet as she wiped the tears away from her eyes. "But that should show you that I'm not as good as you seem to think I am," she said in a trembling voice. "I'm not this perfect, holier-than-thou girl who is trying to find Mr. Perfect. And for you to think that you have the right to tell me what I deserve?" She spat angrily. "That's low, Clint. I decide what I deserve, not you and not anybody else for that matter."
"I never meant to–"
"I don't give a damn what you meant to do, it's what you did!" Lena cut him off. "Maybe you think you're being noble, or giving me my best chance at happiness or whatever, but did you ever stop and think that maybe I just wanted to try and be happy with you? Why couldn't that be what I deserve?"
Clint was frozen. He stood there speechless, mouth open with no words to say. He had never felt like such a lowlife.
"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I'm sorry, Lena."
"Yeah," she nodded. "Me too." They stared at one another for a few more seconds, neither knowing what to say or how to proceed from there. "I'll see you in the morning, Barton," Lena finally said softly, reaching past him and pushing the door open.
Once she was gone, Clint sat down at the empty conference room table and wondered how and if he could fix what he had so horribly messed up.