Hehehe...so I kina forgot I was writing this because I stopped getting alerts/reviews. A follower alert in my email reminded me that "Oh yeah, I need to update that". That was my longest chapter yet and one of the ones I received the least amount of feedback on.
So, yeah, if you want updates, review. If you read this fic, let me know what you think. Honestly, reviews make my day.
Disclaimer in chapter 1
PS: If you haven't seen the fanart for the previous chapter head over to marveldrawings dottumblr dotcom / post/98208948752/clintasha-request-i-did-early-last-week-heres
He wasn't woken by the morning sun, which was still hidden behind the cold winter clouds, but by a light sensation on his chest. Blinking himself awake, Clint was met by the sight of Natasha snuggled up next to him lying on her stomach using his arm as a pillow. Her eyes were closed, index finger absentmindedly drawing circles on his pecs. He smiled down at her and brought his hand up to do the same to her shoulder, "Mornin'." he said.
His voice was deep and raspy. Natasha smiled at the sound of it, "Mornin'." she replied, cracking her sleepy eyes open for a moment. Clint noticed they were back to their usual shade of green with only a faint white tint over them, no longer that angry red glow he'd first seen. He leaned in closer to her, kissing her forehead, combing his fingers through her messy red hair and inhaling the scent of her peach shampoo, "What time is it?"
"You're asking me?" She quirked an eyebrow as she closed her eyes.
"Yea, you're right." Clint looked around but found nothing to indicate the time, "I need to get you a clock, for my sake." He reached across her and glanced at the time on her SHIELD issue phone, "It's 7:24" he said with a sigh as he lay back down and resumed combing his fingers through Natasha's hair, "I think we deserve a day off, don't you?"
Natasha turned on her side and Clint gladly became the big spoon, "And what would we do on such a day off?" She questioned with a hint of a smile on her words.
"Well," he started as he moved strands of her fiery red hair away from her neck, "We could do some cardio to start the day off." He said in between the kisses he placed on the back of her exposed neck. She shied away from him when he touched a particularly tender spot, suppressing the small giggle in her throat. Clint grinned with intent and continued.
"Clint Barton, if you value your life, you will stop trying to confirm if I'm ticklish or not." She warned, although her voice was devoid of any serious threat. Settling for just spooning her, Clint dug his face gently into her hair. He hesitated when his nose came into contact with a bump.
Pulling back, he realized there was a long jagged scar hidden in her hairline extending to the crown of her head, "What's this?" he said, running his thumb over what was at one point a precisely made but poorly stitched up wound.
She turned around and captured his lips in hers, wrapping her thigh against his hip. It was then that Clint realized they were both still very much naked as blood began rushing from his brain to his lower extremities, "I think we should get started on that cardio." She said suggestively, trying to distract him.
Realizing her intentions as she straddled him, Clint pulled back, "Natasha,"
"Clint," she mimicked his tone, now placing sensual kisses on his neck.
"I know what you're doing," he placed his hands on her shoulders, "and it's not working." The slight breathless stutter in his words betrayed him.
"You sure about that?" she questioned as she ground her pelvis into him, feeling him start to harden against his will.
Mustering up all of his self-control, he pushed her off him by her shoulders, "Yes." he said firmly.
She huffed, groaning as she flopped onto her back beside him, staring up at the ceiling, "What is it?" Clint asked gently, all traces of previous excitement expelled.
"Nothing, they're—it's just the scar from the procedure Drakov did on me." She turned her head towards him, "That's all."
"You sure?"
"Yes, Clint. It was a pretty gruesome procedure. They cracked my skull open and dug into my brain tissue. Not exactly nice memories of post-op either." She admitted.
Clint turned to hug her, lacing his arm across her stomach and placing a light kiss on her shoulder, "I'm sorry, Nat." He grumbled.
"For what?" She asked, genuinely curious.
"For having put you through that."
Her brow wrinkled in confusion at his words. She'd never really stopped to think about how he felt about her blindness. Truthfully, she was a little angry that she heard a trace of guilt in his words, "That wasn't your fault, Clint. You didn't make that choice, I did." Natasha clarified.
"It wasn't much of a choice." He seemed to tell himself, "I had compromised you and you let them hurt you because of me."
"I did what I did to protect my partner—my friend." She emphasized.
He looked up at her, wondering, "And what are we now?"
The question hung in the air between them. He was surprised when she answered right away, "We're Clint and Natasha, just like we've always been."
"You always been in love with me?" He asked against her shoulder, "Or have you always been in denial up until a few hours ago?" His mouth curled into a boyish grin.
Natasha rolled onto her side so that she was now facing him. Her hand moved to gently caress his stubbled face, "I guess I just needed a little help to see what was right in front of me." Clint was mesmerized by the softness of her voice, of the softness of her face. Her normal porcelain skin was glowing and tinted pink. She wasn't normally that honest with him, with anyone. He relished in the feeling of being trusted, of being allowed to get a peek of the true Natasha Romanoff.
He leaned forward to capture her rosy lips in his, kissing her softly. His ears perked up at the sound of a repetitive brushing sound against the hardwood floor. Opening his eyes, he glanced past Natasha's shoulder and was met with the sight of a smiling Gus staring at the pair with a green tennis ball in his black and gold muzzle. Gus wagged his tail harder when he realized he'd succeeded in getting the human's attention before he jumped onto the bed and dropped the tennis ball in between them.
Clint and Natasha couldn't hold back their laughter. Clint grabbed the tennis ball, throwing it and watching Gus race off the bed to find it, "I think that cardio's gonna have to wait." Said Natasha, evidence of her laugh still on her face in the form of a toothy smile.
Leaning in, Clint whispered into her ear, "Not if you join me in the shower." He suggested.
Natasha bit her lip at the sensation of his hot breath on her earlobe, "You've got a deal, Clint Barton." She said as she gave him a quick peck on the lips before she untangled herself from the sheets and sauntered off into the bathroom.
Clint grinned at the sight of her walking away, butt naked and shameless before he did the same.
SHIELD Headquarters, Washington DC, three hours later
After another roll around in the shower, Natasha and Clint left the apartment beaming, with Gus more than happy to get a whiff of the fresh winter air. That was, until they found themselves in front of HQ. All reminders of the shitty reality they had managed to ignore for a few hours came crashing down on them as they walked through the building. Bobbi was still in a coma, they hardly had any leads, the council would be ramming them for answers pretty soon, and, most importantly, Madame Hydra was still at very much large.
Coulson knew that whatever issues the Clint and Natasha had before yesterday were completely absolved when the pair walked into the office smelling of the same shampoo.
"It's almost nine; where've you two been?" Coulson questioned.
"Brainstorming," Natasha replied, taking a seat by her computer, "Do you know if Wallace did any work on this?" She asked in reference to the program she'd been writing, changing the subject.
"He just stepped out, but I'm pretty sure he did. The fact that you can write programs has him swooning." Coulson said.
"What's that for, anyways?" Clint took a seat beside her, watching as she put the small comm into her ear for the text to speech audio. The file was long and complex with various numbers and symbols he didn't understand.
"I was researching earlier and I figured the mole had to be leaking information to Hydra directly. So I started writing this to filter through any signals coming out of SHIELD that are going to places they aren't supposed to." She began typing away at the keyboard, "The only problem is that it's taking fucking forever to write." Her brow wrinkled in frustration.
Clint grinned at her just as Agent Matt Wallace walked into the office with a half eaten Nutter Butter and a tiny pint of milk, "Agent Barton." He greeted cheerfully. Wallace was a young man of average height with medium build and scruffy hair. He smiled like a teenager and was truly one of the nicest people Natasha had ever met, "Oh, Agent Romanoff, Dr. Garcia told me she's been meaning to talk to you for the last, what is it, three days? Four? I dunno but she's itchin' to see you." Wallace said, taking a sip from his milk.
"Oh yea, she told me to remind you but, I, uh, forgot." Clint said quirking an eyebrow.
"I'm sure you had a good reason." She uttered just loud enough for him to hear.
"Go ahead, Natasha, Wallace can handle the coding. Right Wallace?" Coulson asked.
The young agent nodded his head furiously with a mouthful of Nutter Butter, "Yeah, totally."
Natasha stopped typing and contemplated her options. Deciding the Good Doctor wasn't going to stop pestering her until she went to see her, she decided on going sooner rather than later. Sighing she got up, "Be careful, Wallace, this thing is like a second Gus." She said, grabbing the dog's leash. Clint automatically got up to open the door and follow her, "Nuh-uh, Hawkeye," her finger poked his shoulder, "You're staying right here. One of us has to be productive. I'm sure Coulson has something for you to do."
She turned to leave and Clint looked to Coulson who simply smiled back at him, "Well, You've still got that mission report to fill out." With a groan, Clint snached chair and began typing away his report on one of the computers.
"Speaking of unproductive, where the hell is Botha?" Clint complained.
"He goes MIA for a few days then returns. He's been like that since we were at the academy." Wallace offered, "Not a very talkative guy, either."
"I haven't met anyone worth being very talkative with, Agent Wallace." The man in question said. Everyone turned around to see one other than Gert Botha looking unamused by the doorway.
Coughing, Coulson moved to steady the situation, "Gentlemen, I'm sure we can all find something to do. Wallace is helping to write the program, Clint is catching up on his procrastination. Botha, we've got some new codes we need your help deciphering."
Botha simply eyed Coulson with an affirmative look, but Clint could see the truth in the young agent's eyes. He swiveled his chair back and continued typing his mission report.
Meanwhile, Natasha and Gus made their journey all the way from the SHIELD offices to the medical wing that housed the research and development section, AKA Dr. Garcia's lair. After some asking around, Natasha found the Good Doctor in one of the larger development labs that smelled like strange gasses and filtered air, "Agent Romanoff! Ugh, my gosh, I've been looking everywhere for you!" Exclaimed the young doctor as Natasha walked into the lab.
"Well, here I am."
"Good, good, this is great! Let's talk in my office, shall we?" Natasha couldn't help but cringe a little at the excitement in Dr. Garcia's voice. She knew the doctor was eccentric, but this was too much.
Taking a seat in one of the presumably nice leather chairs in front of Dr. Garcia's desk, Natasha gave her a bored look, "So, why am I here, Doctor?" She asked, hearing the doctor pull open drawers in search of something.
"This right here." She said as she placed a thin tube in Natasha's hand, "They're microscopic nanobots that are bioadaptable. Basically, we inject them and they flow through the system. They find damage and repair it. In your case, with the tech in you, they would destroy only as much of it as necessary to recover brain mass that would allow you to see." Natasha felt the glass tube in her hand, unsure of what to say, "Agent Romanoff," the doctor said with a hint of a hopeful smirk on her lips, "There's a strong possibility you'll be able to see again."
Natasha was at a loss. Her eyes darted back and forth, mind racing and heart fluttering with excitement at the possibility of being able to see again. She licked her lips, trying not to let herself get her hopes up, "How sure can you be?" She asked, wrinkling her brow in curiosity.
"Well, as you know, brain cells are very rarely replaced. So, once you lose 'em, they're pretty much gone forever, right?" Dr. Garcia moved behind her desk and pulled out data sheets, "Well, wrong, if you have SHIELD funding." She placed some of the sheets in Natasha's lap, "Some of them are in braille, the important ones at least." She took back the glass tube and watched Natasha skim her fingers over the raised lettering, "So, the nanobots have shown to function as brain cells, adapting and gaining the ability to pass neural impulses efficiently. They've shown results in improving reflexes, memory, and spatial awareness. Now, in terms of regaining vision after brain damage, only one in seven test subject recovered their vision fully." Natasha clenched her jaw as the Doctor proceeded, "That doesn't mean you'll be one of the other six."
"It doesn't leave much room for hope though." The agent replied.
Dr. Garcia gave Natasha a pensive look, "We could try to increase your chances…" she trailed off.
"How?" Natasha asked immediately.
"The antidote we gave Agents Barton and Morse could lessen any accidental damage the nanobots would do to your system, given your medical history. That, and the chemical allows for adaptation of foreign bodies like the nanobots." She hesitated, "Agent Romanoff, it'll be a painful process, but there's a chance it'll work." Natasha stared straight ahead, lips pensively pressed into a firm line.
"Do it." Her voice was firm and unafraid.
Dr. Garcia was slightly taken aback by the agent's rapid decisiveness, but decided against questioning it, "Okay, alright. It's what? Like nine o'clock?" She asked herself, glancing at her watch, "So that means I can be ready to with all the materials by a little after twelve." Natasha tried not to let the surprise show on her face at the fact that it would be done soon, and fast. Noticing the expression, Dr. Garcia smirked proudly, "I know right? SHIELD funding, the best." She walked behind her desk and typed in reminders to her computer, "I'll give you a call when you can come in, but you'll need to answer that phone of yours."
"Sure thing." Natasha stood and moved to leave but hesitated at the doorway, "Dr. Garcia," again, the words caught in her throat, "thanks."
Noding, the doctor replied, "It's what we do, Agent." Natasha returned the gesture and walked out of the office, the Good Doctor's words echoing in her mind.
SHIELD Mess Hall, two hours later,
"Are you serious? Nat, that's great!" Clint couldn't contain his excitement as he tried to process what she'd just said. His mind was doing somersaults, especially after his big lunch after being cooped up with "The Dream Team" for over two hours since Natasha had disappeared. He had to admit, he was a little irritated that she'd disappeared for so long, but that was all forgiven now.
Natasha couldn't hide the tiny smile that tugged at the edge of her lips, "Contain yourself, Agent Barton. You're making a scene." She said as they continued walking out of the mess hall. She'd left Gus with Coulson since Wallace hardly talked when he was working and Botha had turned into more of a sour puss since she last saw him. That, and Coulson loved dogs.
She let herself be guided by Clint, gently holding on to his elbow and staying one step behind him. Natasha was still weary about where she wore her glasses. She only wore them when they left the office, Clint had noticed, but that was no longer going to matter.
"Okay, so Dr. Garcia injects the nanobots, they find the problem, and try to fix it?" Clint asked as they rounded a corner.
"Basically. We didn't get too much into the tiny details."
He gave her a questioning look, "So then, why were you hiding for so long?"
Natasha's face remained neutral, "No where, just out and about. Fresh air, outside and stuff." She replied curtly.
"Nat…" He said with a hint of warning. One thing that no one would ever change about Natasha Romanoff were her incessant need to hide even the most mundane details of her life.
"Ugh, Clint, I did actually go outside for some fresh air. I just went for a walk with Gus." She huffed in annoyance, "It was just a little overwhelming, I guess. I've been like this for over five years and the fact that I could see again by tomorrow was...I don't know, a little terrifying." Clint accepted her honest answer. He was one of the few people who could tell when she was lying and when she was being truthful, "That and I couldn't stop thinking about all the money I spent on training Gus. Guide dogs are not cheap, Barton." She said jokingly.
"Yeah, well afterward you can always rely on him to get you a beer from the fridge or fetch the remote when you're too lazy to get up." Her lips curled into a tiny smile.
"Yeah because I have so much time on my hands." They boarded the elevator to return to the office that was nine floors above the mess hall, "Speaking of time, did you guys do anything productive while I was gone?"
"Actually, we did." Clint replied proudly, "While Botha was busy scowling in his chair, Wallace got the program running. It'll take a while for it to sift through all the signals coming in and out of SHIELD so we won't have any answers just yet."
"He programmed it to track any signals going to known and suspected Hydra facilities right?"
"Yes, Natasha, he did."
"And what about scanning on out of date frequencies?"
"Included those in there, too."
"And did he finish the detailing on the encryption so that they wouldn't know we were looking?"
"I think so but—"
"What about FM? That's super low tech but—"
"Nat!" Clint finally said, halting her barrage of questions, "It's good, the program, Wallace did good, it's fine." The elevator pinged announcing their arrival, "He made sure to include everything on that long list of yours and I made him double check the writing." Clint assured her as they stepped out. Natasha simply gave him a slight nod, "We're gonna be okay, Nat. We're gonna find them, you, me, Coulson, Wallace, even Botha, we'll all catch them." HIs voice became soft as they walked through the quiet hall and towards their secured office.
"I know," she clenched her jaw, taking in a calming breath through her nostrils, "We'll get her. You're right, it'll be okay." She nodded, reassuring her paranoid mind above everything else.
Clint scanned his print at the door and was almost knocked over by Botha who all but flew past them on his way out of the office, "Hey Botha, you okay?" Called Clint as the agents walked briskly down the hall.
"Fine," Botha called over his shoulder, "Just gonna take a leak."
Clint gave him a quizzical look before he and Natasha walked through the door, "Agent Romanoff!" Said an enthusiastic Agent Wallace, "I got your second Gus working. She's running smoothly, just scannin' through frequencies and doing her thing." She said with a smirk.
"Great, thanks, Wallace, I know it was a pain to finish." She replied.
"Hopefully it gives us what we need and soon." Said Coulson who was sitting in a swivel chair and rubbing Gus's belly before the dog got up and went to greet his human, "He's good company. I'm considering getting one."
"Make sure you get one that can easily be bathed." Said Clint.
Natasha took a seat and gently petted Gus's soft fur, "Dr. Garcia said there's a chance I'll be able to see again." She announced.
Coulson and Wallace didn't hide their surprise, "Wow, that's great, Natasha. How does she figure?"
"Nanobots that'll go in to repair the damage." She answered, leaving out the part about them being untested in humans and the one in seven chance of it actually working. Although she assumed he'd eventually ask the Good Doctor those questions himself, "She said she'll call me when she's ready to do the procedure, which could be today around noon."
Coulson glanced at his wristwatch, "It's past eleven." He stated, "They sure don't waste any time down in medical."
"It's what they do." She said softly, scratching behind Gus's ears. Her phone buzzed in her pocket as the comm in her ear read the caller ID to her, "Speak of the Doctor," She said as she pulled out her cell, "Romanoff."
SHIELD Medical, an hour later
She'd be lying if she said she wasn't scared. Actually, she was pretty fucking terrified. It was moments like these that Natasha was grateful for her blindness, since it prevented her from seeing the quite possibly large needles on the tray next to her. After she got the call, she, Coulson, and Clint went down to Medical where she was ushered away, sterilized, undressed, and put into what she imagined was a blue flowery hospital gown. Shortly after, a nurse came by with a tablet and had her scan her palm print to consent to the procedure. Another half an hour later, she bid Coulson and Clint temporary farewells as she was rolled into the operating room and coaxed onto a table.
Which is why she was now lying on her back as nurses placed wires on her chest, head, and other extremities. She tried to regulate her breathing to prevent the monitors from picking up any signs of stress, but ultimately failed. The stoic and indefinitely mute nurses didn't help either. They touched and poked her without telling her, which made her flinch on occasion. It wasn't until the Good Doctor herself showed up that they gained a little more competence, "How are ya feeling, Agent?" She asked as she calibrated the ECG.
"Super. I mean who doesn't like being poked and prodded by nurses who don't know how to treat a blind patient?" She asked sarcastically.
Dr. Garcia glared at the nurses who went about their business as if the Agent had said nothing, "Hopefully you'll never face that problem again." She said, motioning for the anesthesiologist to come forward, "Natasha," she leaned in, "We're gonna put you under for the procedure. Dr. Patel here is gonna administer the anesthesia. It'll keep you unconscious for what we anticipate to be the most uncomfortable bit of the procedure." Natasha nodded in understanding, "Your medical history shows a negative reaction to sedatives so, for our safety and your own, I'm gonna strap your ankles and wrists down."
Natasha couldn't hide the spike in heart rate at the mention of restraints. It was bringing back flashbacks of some of her darkest memories, "Okay." She tried to reply firmly but the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.
"It'll be okay, Natasha. You'll be okay, I'm gonna make sure of that." The agent licked her lips and nodded, "Okay then, Dr. Patel is gonna put the mask over your face to administer the anesthesia."
Natasha took in calming breaths and nodded once more before she felt the soft plastic edges of the mask around her nose and mouth, "Alright, Agent, I'm gonna need you to count backwards from a hundred." Said Dr. Patel's smooth voice.
Natasha involuntarily gripped the edge of the medical table until her knuckles turned white, "One hundred," she firmly shut her eyes, "ninety-nine" she could feel her heart beating through her rib cage, "ninety-eight," her voice began to fade, "ninety-seven," her words began to slur together, "ninety-six," her features began to relax, "ninety-five," she stopped gripping the table, "ninety-four." Her mind went blank.
After an argument with the head nurse and permission from the the Good Doctor, Clint and Coulson were allowed to monitor the procedure from behind the observation glass above the room.
Clint paced back and forth after Natasha was put under, watching the nurses inject the liquid that had healed him into her bloodstream. The monitors spiked momentarily as Natasha's body arched slightly before relaxing. Normal. They brushed it off as a normal reaction to the chemical before pulling out the big guns.
The nurses turned Natasha on her side and opened up the back of her gown, and sterilizing the area on the small of her back. The young nurse doing it flinched at the sight of obvious old scarring that littered the young agent's back, but immediately shook it off. Another nurse gave Dr. Garcia an imposing needle filled with a silvery substance, "Injecting the nanobots now." She announced, more for Coulson and Clint's sake.
Clint visibly cringed at the sound of the needle sliding into the soft tissue of Natasha's spine. He questioned as to why SHIELD would install high quality surround sound into the observation room.
Dr. Garcia carefully pressed on the plunger of the needle, emptying its contents. Ever so gently, she slid it out of the sensitive spinal tissue and motioned to the nurses to restrain the unconscious agent.
For a moment, nothing happened, then something did. Natasha's body stiffened as her arms flexed to break free of the restraints. Her face contorted in pain as her back arched and she let out a strangled gasp. The monitors began to spike and flash red, signaling danger. Nurses moved to inject calming agents into her IV. Natasha's eyes screwed shut as an overwhelming pulsing sensation took hold of her head. She stifled a cry of pain as the sensation started to bring her back to consciousness, "Inject more sedative!" Urged Dr. Garcia, fearing the pain would kill her. Clint and Coulson held their breaths as they watched the scene play out.
The agent grit her teeth in agony as her body began to sweat. The temperature in the room seemed to have sky rocketed and the air became too thick to breathe; her lungs couldn't take in enough oxygen. The muffled sounds of frantic beeping and startled voices began to clear as she became more and more aware. The pain intensified with each passing second and oh God she was losing her grip. She tugged at the restraints until she couldn't feel her hands or feet. She grit her teeth until the high pitched pressure of them grinding into each other filled her ears. Involuntary tears collected at the rims of her eyes.
Then it all stopped.
Natasha collapsed onto the operating table, chest still rising and falling with exertion. The heart monitors calmed, her body began to relax, and her mind began pulling back.
She swore she saw a glimmer of light before she passed out again, grateful for the calmness that overcame her.
Bet you didn't see that coming! (bad pun intended).
Review!
