I've been asked to write some angst because apparently things are too fluffy. But I like fluffy! It's like marshmallows :) Anyway, this starts angst, then gets better at the end, because I like writing happy stuff :) This is a kind of 'back to the past' short chapter inspired by a picture I saw on Tumblr, if I find it again I will link you to it.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR PROMPTS! I love them and am currently working my way through them all, keep 'em coming!

And please review you lovely people, marshmallows for all of you.

The air was hot and steaming, and Natasha could feel her breath burning her throat as she crawled through the ventilation shaft, desperate to find clean, cool air. The metal was hot under her skin and she could feel blisters forming on her hands.

'Clint,' she rasped into her mic. 'Clint.'

The static that followed made Natasha's heart pound and she increased her pace, the heat from the metal seeping through her uniform and onto her skin, burning her and making her cry out. She could feel the soles of her shoes melting onto the shaft behind her and she crawled faster, breathing quicker, the air burning her lungs.

'Clint,' she gasped into her mice. 'Clint, please. I'm stuck in the air vent, I need help.'

No reassuring response came back and Natasha collapsed, gasping for air. She tried to breath but the oxygen was gone, replaced by burning heat that seared her skin and burnt her lungs.

The flames behind her licked at her shoes and Natasha tried to crawl forwards using her elbows to propel herself, but with no air left to breathe she only managed a few feet before her body refused to go any further. Starved of oxygen, the last thing she was aware of was a 'ffzzzzt' noise and the smell of burning hair before her vision went black and she passed out.

XxXxXxX

'… lucky to be alive, second degree burns, mainly to the scalp, knees and hands, Agent Barton pulled her out and is refusing to leave until she wakes up.'

Agent Barton?

Clint?

Natasha opened one eye a fraction and surveyed her surroundings. There were three doctors (she hoped they were doctors, they were wearing white lab coats anyway) at the foot of her bed, flicking through what she guessed was her chart. She looked down at her arms and was greeted by thick white bandages, covering almost every patch of skin, hands especially.

Then she noticed Clint was curled up in the chair next to her bed, fast asleep and snoring softly.

'Okay, we'll check back on her in an hour, she should be waking up soon,' one of the doctors as they all piled out of her room, closing the door.

Natasha opened her eyes fully and looked at Clint, damage assessing him. He had a bandage over his scalp, and a few on his arms, but other than that he didn't look too banged up.

'Clint,' Natasha said softly.

Clint's eyes flew open and he jumped up in his seat. 'I didn't eat all your ice cream, Tasha, it was Coulson,' he blurted out.

Natasha raised her eyebrows quizzically at him, or tried too, then realised something was wrong. She raised her hand to feel her face and Clint caught it.

'Tasha,' he said quietly. 'Maybe you should give it a second.'

'Give what a second?' Natasha asked, her throat aching.

Clint swallowed and Natasha felt her heart drop. When Clint was upset, there was something wrong.

'You were burnt quite badly,' Clint said. 'And… well… you know how fast hair burns…'

Natasha stared at Clint who took hold of her burnt hands, looked her straight in the eyes and said, 'you're still beautiful,' in his I'm being deadly serious face and tone. It was then that Natasha understood why he was being so sympathetic.

'It's not just my eyebrows I lost, is it?' Natasha said.

Wordlessly, Clint handed her a mirror, keeping one hand squeezed tightly around hers.

Natasha took a deep breath and held the mirror up to her face. Her eyebrows had gone completely, and her face was red with burns. Her hair… her poor hair. Parts of it had been burnt off completely, half the side of her head had hair that still hung down her back, the other half had hair that stopped just below her ears. She had bald patches on random parts of her head where the hair had been burnt away completely and by the looks of it she'd lost a few eyelashes as well. Natasha stared at her reflection, she'd never been a vain person per say, she knew that she was pretty, and her looks had helped her to get into many places where a simple access card wouldn't, but she was proud of her features, they reminded her of her mother, or the photos she had left of her anyway. Her despair must have been written clear on her face because her partner was quick to reassure her.

'Hey, listen,' Clint said, sitting on the edge of her bed, keeping hold of her hands. 'Hair grows incredibly quickly, your eyebrows will be totally back by the end of the week, I got you this cute hat to wear if you feel self-conscious which you shouldn't because you're still a stunner, I bought you more ice cream to replace the one that I just blamed Coulson for eating and tonight we're having a movie night, in this room, with popcorn.'

Natasha smiled softly at him. 'Clint,' she said. 'Thank you.'

'For what?' Clint asked, puzzled.

'For being you, now get over here and get in with me, you can't sleep in that chair all night.' Natasha said.

Clint crawled under the sheets and Natasha curled up into his chest, minding their burns.

'How did you find me?' she asked.

'I went back in to get you when I realised you hadn't got out, the comm stopped working though so I had to run up four floors of burning building before I heard you banging around in the vent,' Clint said. 'I climbed in and pulled you out, I was too late to save your hair though.'

'Hair grows back,' Natasha said, closing her eyes.

'Hey, Tasha?' Clint said.

'Yes Clint?' Natasha said, on the verge of falling asleep.

'I'm glad you're okay.'

Natasha didn't hear him as she was fast asleep, but she felt something that may have been a kiss on her forehead.

I'll tease him about that one tomorrow.

XxXxXxX

When SHIELD Agent Natasha Romanoff reported to Director Fury a month later after being given the all clear by the doctors, no-one commented on her new hairstyle. Short, choppy, curly hair that hung just above her shoulders in rich red waves. No-one except Clint that is, who winked at her and told her she looked stunning. Natasha grinned at him and sauntered off down the corridor, one hand resting on her hip and swaying them as much as possible.

She could still hear Clint chuckling as she walked on the bridge.

That night, when Clint clambered into her bed with a selection of films including Jurassic Park and Men in Black (obviously she chose Men in Black, Clint wasn't surprised, Natasha was a closet MIB fan) he traced her short red locks with his fingers and grinned at her.

'I meant it, you know,' he said. 'You do look absolutely amazing.'

'And don't I know it,' Natasha said, returning the wink he'd gave her earlier.

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