Chapter 14

A/N: So I have the next several chapters planned out and I'm super excited because we only have 4 more chapters (including this one) before we get to the Avengers plotline! So chapter 17 will be when we see the Avengers Assemble movie plot start up and I have some HUGE plans that I think you guys will love.

Either way, I reaaaaally think you guys are going to like this chapter (wink, wink) Make sure to review!

xXxXx

"What the hell is an almost kiss?" Natasha asked incredulously as she reached for more popcorn. "Either you kissed or you didn't, there's no in between."

Lena sighed dramatically, keeping her eyes focused on the television as Jigsaw revealed his super evil, twisted plan.

"I already told you, Nat. Our lips touched, but it wasn't a kiss," Lena replied.

"That's a kiss."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"No it's not," Natasha sing-songed. Lena laughed, focusing her attention back on the movie.

"Okay there's no way he's actually going to saw his own foot off," Lena muttered as she watched the two men on the screen.

"Okay so say I believe this almost kiss thing," Natasha continued.

"Nat," Lena groaned, flinging her head back against the couch. "You're ruining our Halloween Scare-a-Thon."

"Halloween comes around every year, this is more important," Natasha said matter-of-factly, reaching over and pausing the movie. She crossed her legs and turned to face Lena head on, who was looking at her curiously. "Alright, spill it."

"Spill what?" Lena asked incredulously.

"The truth," Natasha said shortly. "None of this 'It's complicated,' or 'You're reading into this too much' crap. Tell me what happened between you and Clint."

Lena sighed, running her hand through her hair. Scare-a-Thon had started out just fine except for the lack of alcohol that Lena had really been looking forward to. Then Natasha had started grilling her about the mission in Dubai, and Lena had accidentally let it slip about the almost kiss she and Clint had shared at the ball. So now she and Natasha were laid up on her couch in sweats, t-shirts, and no makeup on as they stuffed their faces with popcorn and Natasha begged for juicy details about her two friends' love lives.

"I already told you about the almost kiss, that was the biggest thing," Lena finally said. "We were dancing, and we just… we got caught up in all of it. The pretending became too real, it was an honest mistake."

Her voice cracked on the word 'mistake,' and Natasha raised her eyebrows.

"Then after the mission was done," Lena continued quickly before Natasha could call her out on her bullshit, "We met up with SHIELD and helped secure the warehouse, got everybody out and into safe hands, then we got on the plane to bring Ahmad back here to the states."

"And then what happened?" Natasha pressed.

"Nothing," Lena said with a shrug. "Clint kept an eye on Ahmad for the first five hours of the flight and let me sleep, then we traded off. We got back to HQ, went to debriefing, I was promoted to an official SHIELD agent for my spectacular work," she said teasingly, "And then we were each given five days off. End of story."

"And you haven't seen Clint since then?"

"Nope," Lena said. "But I'll see him in two days, don't worry."

"And what will you say?" Natasha asked. "'Oh Clint, I've missed your almost kisses so much, take me in your arms I beg of you!'" She mocked in a high pitched voice.

"Ew, shutup!" Lena shouted, throwing popcorn at her friend. The two girls laughed, both brushing popcorn off of their laps. "But for your information I'm not going to say anything about the almost kiss," Lena shrugged. "We were on a mission and we just… we got carried away by the thrill of it. Pretending to be married, holding hands, the fancy party… it's easy to trick yourself into thinking it's all real," she said sadly.

"Hey," Natasha's voice dropped to a sympathetic tone, "You don't have to lie to me, you know."

Lena's eyes flitted up to meet Natasha's, her expression reflecting the sadness in her heart.

"I don't…" Lena paused as she choked up, biting down hard on her lip. "I don't know how I let it get this far," she said honestly. "How I let myself get these feelings. It's not… It's just not smart."

"Love isn't about being smart," Natasha said wisely.

"I'm not in love with him," Lena said quickly. "I know I'm not, but… I think that I could be. One day." She took a deep breath, exhaling a great deal of tension with the admission. Natasha was quiet and without judgement, which Lena was thankful for. "And that absolutely terrifies me," she added, her voice shaking.

"Why?" Natasha inquired.

"Because we can't be together," Lena said as if it were obvious.

"Well why the hell not?" Natasha asked incredulously. "He obviously has feelings for you Lena, you can't be that blind–"

"I know that he feels something for me," Lena agreed exasperatedly, rubbing her hands over her eyes.

"Then just be together!"

"I can't, Nat!" Lena shouted back, her frustration reaching its tipping point. "Look, you just don't get it okay?" She snapped. "Clint has this obsession with being noble, he thinks he's protecting me by rejecting me. And then on top of that…" she trailed off, her next words catching in her throat.

"What is it?" Natasha asked softly. "What else is holding you back?"

Lena took a deep, shaky breath. "Back on Asgard, Frigga – Odin's wife – she told me something. Asgardians, they… they feel things more deeply than humans. Grief becomes anguish. Happiness becomes joy. Sadness becomes depression. And love–"

"Turns into something else entirely," Natasha said in understanding.

"Exactly. And as a half-Asgardian, it makes sense for me. When I lost Zeke and then Jem, I didn't grieve like normal people. I didn't go through stages of denial and eventually acceptance, I spiraled completely out of control. My emotions are constantly on this roller coaster that I have no control over, and if Clint and I ever actually…" she trailed off, unable to say the words.

"You're afraid you'll love him more than he can love you," Natasha said.

Lena bit down on her lip, wiping away the single tear that managed to slip out of her eye.

"I can't allow myself to become dependent on someone's affections like that," she explained. "I mean, Clint doesn't even trust me enough to tell me anything about himself, and here I am pouring my heart out to him every time we're in the same room."

"Clint doesn't open up to anyone, you can't take that personally."

"But I do," Lena said exasperatedly. "I do take it personally, Nat. And maybe him trying to be Mr. Noble is what's best for both of us, because I just can't afford to fall harder for him than he is capable of falling for me."

Natasha sighed, smiling sadly at her friend. "I think you're underestimating him, Lena."

"It's nothing against Clint, I'm sure he'll fall in love with a normal human girl and she'll love him equally back, but I can't be that for him," Lena said. "My DNA literally won't allow it."

"Oh for fuck's sake," Natasha snapped, rolling her eyes. Lena looked at her in surprise. "That is the most bullshit excuse I have ever heard. Love isn't about DNA, it isn't about what's in your blood, or your genetics. Love goes way beyond that. It's a part of who you are, and the only person you're hurting by denying your true feelings is yourself. Don't blame it on being half-Asgardian because that's crap and you know it. You're also half-human, in case you've forgotten. But even if you were a green alien with antennas, your feelings would still be valid. Stop making excuses because you're scared to fall in love."

Lena was speechless, her eyes wide as she stared at Natasha. The redhead's words cut her right to the very core.

"Well then," Lena finally said, her voice cracking. "Thanks for your brutal honesty, Nat."

"Anytime, Sparkstrike," Natasha smirked, standing up from the couch. "Now I've gotta get the hell out of here. Too much girl talk makes me feel kind of sick."

Lena laughed, standing up as well. "So you're just going to leave before we even finish the first movie after you didn't bring me alcohol and made me feel about two inches tall?"

"Sure am," Natasha grabbed her keys from the coffee table and started heading towards Lena's front door. "Some of us actually have to work tomorrow," she smirked.

Natasha walked over to the door, opening it and pausing halfway through the doorframe. She turned back to Lena with a thoughtful expression.

"Give him a chance, okay?" She said in a serious tone. "I've known Clint for a while, and I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. He's not perfect, but quite frankly you're pretty screwed up too."

"Gee thanks, Nat," Lena said dryly.

"Just give him a chance to surprise you," Natasha continued with a smile. "Oh and by the way, Dr. Gordon turns out to be the bad guy," she pointed at the TV.

"Aw, screw you, Nat!"

Natasha darted out the door before Lena could throw anything at her, laughing the whole way out. Lena chuckled, walking over to her tiny kitchen to grab the broom and sweep up the mess of popcorn they had made.

Natasha's words kept replaying in Lena's mind as she cleaned up. Was she really making excuses because she was afraid? Lena prided herself on her courage, but was she hiding behind a wall of fear when it came to Clint?

Lena shook the disturbing thoughts out of her mind, thinking to herself that she would worry about it tomorrow. Besides, she had two more days until she was going to have to see Clint again. That was plenty of time to sort out her emotions.

Over the next fifteen minutes, Lena cleaned up the mess that she and Natasha had made, washed her face, brushed her teeth and threw her hair up into a ponytail, and was just about to crash for the night when there was a knock on the door.

Lena chuckled as she headed towards the door. "What'd you forget this time, Nat?" She called out. "We both know it wasn't the alcohol since you–"

But it wasn't Nat at the door.

Lena froze, her heart dropping to her stomach when she saw Clint leaning against the doorframe, his arm propped up against the top beam. He was wearing jeans, a black t-shirt with a gray flannel over top, and his leather jacket over that. And while Lena normally would have taken the time to appraise how good he looked in his casual wear, all she could look at was his face.

Clint looked wrecked. His blonde hair was messed up more than usual, and the purple bags underneath his eyes were especially prominent. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Hey," he croaked out, giving a weak smile upon seeing Lena looking up at him. "Sorry I didn't… I wasn't planning on coming over."

"Clint," Lena breathed out dumbly. "What are you… how did you know where I live?" Before Clint could answer her face dawned in realization.

"Natasha," they both said simultaneously.

"Of course she called you," Lena muttered. "I should've known." She looked back up at Clint to see him looking down at her with a lost expression. "Well come on in," she finally said, widening the door and walking back inside her apartment, leaving him with an open invitation.

Clint hesitated, but eventually followed after her, closing the door behind him.

"Do you uh, do you want something to drink?" Lena asked awkwardly, walking into the kitchen.

"No, I'm good," Clint said softly, following after her with his hands in his pockets.

Lena didn't reply to that, filling up a glass of water for herself. An awkward silence fell over them for a few seconds.

"I like your place," Clint finally said, looking around at her apartment.

"Thanks. It's kind of small, but I like it. It's just somewhere to lay my head down when I'm not at SHIELD." She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Yeah, that's good," Clint mumbled with a nod. He looked around the apartment again, and Lena couldn't help but notice just how lost he looked.

"Clint why are you here?" She finally asked abruptly. Clint snapped his eyes back to her.

"What?"

"I said," she put her glass down on the counter and crossed her arms over her chest with an attitude. "Why are you here?"

Clint took a deep breath, his eyes boring into Lena's own with such an intensity that Lena had to look away.

"I'm here because I can't stay away from you for one more second."

Lena's eyes snapped back to Clint when she heard the raw emotion in his voice. He was staring at her with a vulnerability that she had never seen in him before.

"What?" She whispered.

"I'm a wreck, Lena," he said in a hoarse voice. "I'm a complete wreck. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't even shoot!" He said incredulously, as if the thought alone was appalling – and it was. Clint could always shoot his bow.

"Clint, if you're only here because Natasha called you then I think you need to–"

"No, no, it's more than that," Clint interrupted, taking a step closer to her then seeming to think better of it and staying where he was. "Nat gave me the incentive to get up off my ass, but I'm here because I want to be. You deserve an explanation."

Lena sighed. "You don't have to do this, Clint," she whispered.

"Yes, I do," he said firmly. "And I know I'm not good with words, but I need to do this now while I have the guts."

Clint took a deep breath, his eyes staring into Lena's own, forcing the words that had been running through his mind for the past two days out of his mouth.

"I'm crazy about you, Lena," he finally said. Lena gasped at his declaration. "I am absolutely fucking crazy about you. I can't get you out of my head, I can't stop thinking about Dubai, I can't stop wondering what you're doing every damn second of every damn day."

Lena stared at him with an unreadable expression, her mouth parted slightly. Clint was breathing heavily, his eyes glazed over with emotion.

"I've fallen for you and I've fallen hard," Clint continued. "And that scares the shit out of me," he admitted. "I'm so damn scared of what you make me feel, Lena. I'm way out of my zone with this. All I want to do is the right thing by you but I don't know what that is," he laughed without humor. "For a while I thought that the right thing to do was stay away from you, and a part of me still thinks I should be doing that."

"If you're trying to stay away from me then why are you here?" Lena finally spoke, her voice shaking with raw emotion.

"Well the first reason is because Natasha said that if I didn't come talk to you she would kill me in my sleep," he said honestly, making Lena laugh through her anxiety.

Clint smiled as she covered her flushed face with her hands, her shoulders moving up and down with chortles. She finally looked back up at him with a sad smile. Clint's face sobered as he took in just how beautiful she looked.

"And the second reason?" Lena asked in a soft spoken voice.

Clint froze, staring Lena down for a few seconds. The tension between them was thicker than ever before, the only sounds being their heavy breathing and the sounds of Friday night nightlife in DC outside of her window.

"I'm here," Clint finally spoke, taking his hands out of his pockets and beginning to walk slowly towards Lena, "Because I'm selfish." He advanced on her slowly, Lena matching each one of his steps forward with one step back, her eyes wide. "I'm selfish, Lena," he repeated as Lena backed into the countertop, her hands gripping the marble behind her as she kept her eyes trained on Clint's. "I'm selfish because I want you in my life more than anything else in the world and I can't find it in me to stay away from you for one more second."

They were chest to chest now, Lena breathing heavily as Clint towered over her, his face mere inches away from hers. She was physically incapable of tearing her eyes away from his.

Clint stared down at her, trying to read her reaction. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing quickened. Her body was obviously reacting to him, but was her heart?

He raised his hands slowly, pushing her hair back from her face before settling his palms on her cheeks. Lena sighed at the contact, leaning into his touch as her eyes fluttered shut for a brief second before opening them and looking back into his deep green eyes.

"What are you doing?" She whispered.

Clint shook his head. "I don't know," he said in a deeper voice. "But it feels right."

The moment seemed to drag on forever, Lena raising her shaking hands to place them on Clint's waist. He used the pads of his thumbs and caressed her cheeks, thinking that her eyes looked like the color of the ocean when it reflected the sunlight.

Clint began to lean in first, unable to hold back for a second longer. He moved slowly, as if he were afraid she would disappear right in front of him if he moved too quickly. She responded in kind, her grip on him tightening as she leaned up on her tiptoes, her eyes fluttering shut.

But just as they were both about to initiate the contact that they both so desperately craved, Lena said one word that felt like a slap to Clint's face.

"No."

Clint jerked away, his eyes snapping open to see Lena with her head slightly bowed, not looking at him but also not taking her hands off of him. His brow furrowed in confusion as she finally looked back up into his eyes, a sad expression on her delicate face.

"Clint, I'm so sorry," she whispered upon seeing the hurt etched behind his eyes, "It's not that I–"

"No, it's fine," Clint's voice cracked as he somehow found the strength to step away from her and lower his arms. They both felt the ache in their chests at the loss of contact. "I shouldn't have assumed that… I'll just head out."

"No, wait!" Lena shouted as he turned to leave, reaching out and grabbing his wrist. Clint immediately turned back around to face her, the hope obvious all over his face. "It's not that I don't want to…" she trailed off, unable to find the right words to express what she was feeling. "I want to be with you, Clint," she finally said in a firm voice, Clint's eyes widening in surprise. "I want to be with you more than anything else in the world. It's practically killing me not being with you."

"Then why–"

"I have to look out for myself," Lena said in a rare display of justified selfishness. "I can't let myself fall for you any further than I already have without some sort of assurance that this is real." She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. "I need to know that you're serious about this because I can't play any more games."

"I am serious about this," Clint said immediately, stepping back up to her and placing one hand on her cheek and the other on her hip, holding her close. "I'm more serious about you and I than I am about anything else in my life, I swear."

"I need a guarantee of that."

"How?" Clint asked, his green eyes bright as he searched Lena's face for some sort of sign. "I'll do anything, just name it."

Lena paused. "I need to know something about your past," she finally said.

Clint's entire body tensed, his eyes losing the brightness that had been there just seconds before. He dropped his hands, stepping back and looking away, his mouth opening and closing with unspoken words.

"I'm not trying to get your whole life story," Lena said quickly, trying to reassure him. "I just need something, Clint. Something that shows that you trust me that way that I trust you." Clint kept his eyes trained on the kitchen floor, his face drawn together in deep thought. "I mean I don't even know your middle name for crying out loud," Lena muttered.

"Francis."

"What?"

"My middle name is Francis," Clint murmured, his eyes still downcast.

Lena didn't respond for a few seconds, but eventually started to laugh. Clint's lips quirked up in a smile as well as he finally looked back up at her.

"While I appreciate that," Lena chuckled, "I'm going to need a bit more than that."

Clint sighed, running his hands over his face. He looked over at Lena's hopeful expression. Inside his mind he was having a war with himself. On one hand, of course he would tell Lena anything she wanted to know, it wasn't even a question. On the other hand though, his biggest fear was that she would look at him and see the monster that he believed himself to be.

But that look on Lena's face had his fears being pushed to the back of his mind.

"I'll tell you everything," he finally said in a hoarse voice.

Lena's eyes widened, obviously surprised.

"You don't have to–"

"Yes, I do," he cut her off firmly.

They stared at each other for a few more seconds before Lena finally smiled, walking over to him and grabbing his hand in her own. She intertwined their fingers as she led him over to the couch. They sat down, Lena pulling her knees up to her chest as she turned to face him.

Clint propped his elbows on his knees and placing his head in his hands as he took a few deep breaths. Where was he even supposed to start? He dropped his hands and stared at the wall ahead of him. He didn't know if he could do this – relive the past. He didn't want to lose that look that Lena gave him every time he stepped into the room. He wanted her to believe he was a better person than he really was for just a little bit longer.

Suddenly though, Clint felt a slight pressure on his hand that he had unknowingly curled into a fist on top of his knee. He looked over to see Lena gently touching him, an encouraging smile on her face.

"It's okay," she said softly. Clint's entire body relaxed and he loosened his hand. Lena placed her palm in his, allowing him to squeeze it as if he could somehow absorb the strength that she was offering him.

"When I was a kid," Clint finally began, his voice cracking in a lack of confidence, "My brother Barney took care of me. He was six years older than me. Our parents were deadbeats. My dad got into a car crash when he was driving drunk, and my mom hung herself a week later. I was four years old."

Lena took a deep, shaky breath at the mere thought of a little four year old boy with messy blonde hair, walking in on his mother spinning from the ceiling with a noose around her neck. She remained silent though.

"I can't remember it, which is a good thing I guess," Clint continued, his voice low. "But Barney could. He'd always get this pained look on his face whenever I asked about them, so eventually I just stopped asking." He paused again for a few seconds. "We went into foster care, always making sure to stay together no matter what. That was me and Barney for you, nobody could separate us," he said with a small, nostalgic smile. "We bounced around between families for a while, but when I was 10 and Barney was 16, we got stuck somewhere really bad. I won't tell you the details, but… Barney knew we had to get out of there. We ran away one night with nothing but the clothes on our back. We were homeless. Street rats, really. I learned how to pickpocket, and steal stuff from the markets. It always made me sick to do it, but being hungry made me sicker."

"Clint," Lena whispered. "You don't have to–"

"No, let me finish. A few months later it was getting close to winter, and me and Barney were both afraid that we wouldn't make it if it snowed. But then one day this train stopped off at the railroad tracks we had been sleeping near. It was a circus – a freak show, really. One of the carnies, the bearded lady actually, she found the two of us trying to sneak some food. Instead of beating us senseless and sending us off, she took us in. Barney and I got jobs, little odd chores here and there like taking care of the animals, helping with set up and tear down, that kind of thing. It was a good gig. We slept on the trains with the other workers, we had food, we had a weird little family, and we had each other. It all worked out great."

Clint paused, getting a faraway look on his face as his mind took him back to his childhood.

"Things stayed like that for about two years, but then the circus hired on this guy named Trickshot." He laughed, looking down at his hands. "Trickshot was one crazy son of a bitch. I practically worshiped the man, I would follow him around and ask him all kinds of questions. I was a pest really, but he didn't seem to mind. He never told me his real name though," he said as an afterthought, pursing his lips.

"Trickshot was a master at archery," he continued. "He taught me everything I know. When I was 14 he started letting me in on his shows. We always had a huge turnout. Barney tried his hand too, but he wasn't as good as I was."

Lena smiled as she thought about pimply faced teenage Clint learning how to shoot a bow, spending day and night practicing to be the best that he could be.

"I got better every day, and eventually I was just as good as Trickshot, maybe even better. But then…" he trailed off, having to take a few deep breaths. "But then I wasn't just shooting in the shows. When I was 17, Trickshot started letting me go with him and some of the others – including Barney – on his little nighttime excursions. We were doing wrong by people, there's no other way to put it," he admitted, glancing at Lena for just a brief second in shame. "Stealing shit and stuff like that. I did it for 2 years, thinking it was fine since nobody ever got really hurt. But then it started to get… it started to get twisted."

"How?" Lena asked.

"Some guy had double crossed Trickshot. What the poor bastard did, I don't know. I never asked. We went out one night and I thought we were just going to scare the guy into giving Trickshot his money back, but then he mouthed off. Next thing I know, Trickshot's shooting an arrow in between his eyes."

Lena flinched and Clint glanced at her guiltily.

"I had no idea he was going to… I didn't know that's how it was going to go down. I flipped my shit, went off on Trickshot. I'd spent 7 years looking up to that man just for him to turn out to be a killer. I was in a rage, went after him with my bare hands. But then… but then Barney stopped me. Started screaming at me that I should be grateful, and stop trying to play the hero. I punched him, we started to grapple and then I…"

Clint stopped, his body going completely rigid. He paused for several seconds, his entire body language revealing his shame, regret, and anger.

"I shot him," Clint finally deadpanned, his voice showing none of the multitude of emotions he was feeling. "I freaked out, grabbed my bow, and then I shot an arrow right into my brother's chest."

Lena had no words. She didn't know what to say, unable to provide him with any words of encouragement or comfort.

"I killed my brother," Clint whispered painfully. "I killed the only person who had ever been there for me through thick and thin." He paused again. "Needless to say, the rest of our little posse came after me. Long story short, I got the hell out of dodge. Over the next year I went rogue, tried to be some sort of punk vigilante or something like that. Tried to do good, but ended up doing bad. Which is basically a metaphor for my life at this point," he muttered bitterly. "I was 20 when Coulson found me. He saw something in me, I don't know what. He took me in and sent my punk ass to the academy. I worked my way up through the ranks by doing my job and doing it well. SHIELD became a new home for me."

He smiled then, chuckling to himself. "And then one day I got sent out to New Mexico to check out this weird ass hammer and then this girl fell from the sky. You know the rest."

Clint smiled – albeit sadly – down at where he was still holding onto Lena's hand. He noticed that she was being oddly quiet and his eyes trailed up her arm and to her face.

"Ah, shit," Clint whispered when he saw the tears on Lena's face and the terrible expression on her face. "I didn't… shit Lena, don't cry," he begged, scooting closer to her and placing his hands on her face, wiping the tears away.

"No, don't be sorry," Lena said with a gasp, finally allowing herself to show her emotions now that he was done sharing his story. "Don't be – please don't be sorry. If anyone should be sorry, it should be me," she said incredulously.

"What? Why?"

"I made you – I made you relive all of that," she gasped out, frustrated at herself for crying the way that she was. Clint was still holding her face and looking downright terrified at her tears. She finally blinked away the blurriness and looked up at him, her eyes meeting his.

Clint froze under her gaze. There it was. The look that she was giving him wasn't the look that he had gotten used to, the look that he loved to receive from her. His biggest fear was coming true – she was seeing him for the murderer that he was.

Clint sighed sadly. "I knew this would change things," he murmured, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Lena," he said quickly, jumping up from the couch and heading for the door.

Lena was frozen in shock for a brief moment before she jumped up as well.

"You're right!" She shouted, stopping Clint in his tracks. He stood with his hand on the door handle, his back to her. "You're right, Clint," she said in a softer voice. "Things have changed now." Clint's body went even more rigid. "By being honest with me the way that you were… you've changed the way I look at you. Now I don't just see another agent, and I don't just see my friend." She began to walk over to him slowly. "I see beyond that, Clint," she whispered.

Lena reached him a few seconds later, but he was still standing in the same position. She couldn't see his face, so she couldn't see the tears threatening to spill over from his eyes.

"I see you for who you really are, Clint," Lena said softly.

"And who is that?" Clint whirled around on her, his voice raised. Lena didn't shrink back though, she stood firm. "The real me, who is that? I'm a murderer, Lena!" He shouted. "I killed my own brother!"

"If you hadn't killed him he would have killed you," Lena said without a moment of hesitation.

"You can't possibly know that," Clint scoffed, looking away.

"I do know that because I know you."

"I was a different person then."

"No you weren't," Lena said. "You were the same person then that you are right now. You were a good man," she placed her hand on Clint's cheek and he tried to jerk away but she wouldn't let him. "You are a good man, Clint Barton. That's why you were so distraught when Trickshot killed someone. That's what Coulson saw in you. That's why you gave me a chance with SHIELD."

"Lena–"

"Things have changed, Clint. I see more goodness in you than I originally thought was there. But beyond that, my feelings for you have changed as well." She paused, smiling up at him. "They're stronger."

Clint could do nothing but stare down at Lena. Wonderful, pure, kind-hearted Lena. If she above anyone else saw goodness in him, accepted him, and wanted him despite everything he had done… didn't that matter more than anything else?

"What are you doing to me?" Clint whispered.

His eyes bored into Lena's and reveled in the affection he saw there. Nobody had ever looked at him the way she was at that moment. He had been scared that it was disgust, or revulsion, but he saw now that it wasn't that at all. It was warmth. It wasn't love, not quite yet, but it was close.

"I've never felt this way before," he continued, "And then you come along and I… I'm addicted to you, Lena. I can't stay away."

Lena stared up at Clint and said two simple words that would intertwine their lives together through all sorts of conflicts across all the realms simply because two hearts were made to take care of one another.

"Then don't."

Clint waited for exactly one split second before grabbing Lena's face in his hands and crushing his lips to hers. Lena melted against him, standing up on her tiptoes to meet his height and wrapping her arms around his neck to press her body further against his.

Clint groaned, the sound coming from deep in his diaphragm. He dropped one arm to wrap around Lena's waist as he turned and pressed her back against the door. Lena gasped, and Clint took that opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hips flexing into hers. Lena's entire body shuddered, arousal clouding every other rational thought in her mind. All she could think about was Clint – his hands, his body, his mouth. She wanted every single inch of him.

Clint reached down and hoisted Lena up and into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist without ever tearing his lips from hers. His tongue worked wonders in her mouth as his calloused fingers dug into her hips as her shirt rode up her back.

"Clint," Lena whispered against his mouth, her deep, husky voice doing things to Clint's body he didn't even know was possible. "Please, Clint. I need you."

Clint pulled his lips away just far enough to look into Lena's eyes. The blue-green orbs were glazed over, looking at him the way everyone wants to be looked at.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"I've never been surer of anything in my life," she said softly, rubbing the pad of her thumb over his swollen bottom lip. "I want you. Only you."

Clint stared up at her for a few seconds before smiling, leaning back in to press his lips to hers. He had known that kissing Lena would become an addiction, but he knew now that this addiction would be the best damn thing that could ever happen to him. He just couldn't believe he had wasted so much time being an idiot that had let his fears consume him.

Without another word spoken between them because their bodies were saying everything that needed to be said, Clint carried Lena to her bedroom. And in that small bedroom on Halloween night, two hearts that the universe had destined to be together from the very beginning connected in the most beautiful possible way.

xXxXx

A/N: Sooooo that just happened! Major ClintxLena action and YAY! THEY'RE FINALLY TOGETHER! How did you guys like that? Do you think it will last? Leave me a review and send in your predictions!

(By the way, I took some liberties with Clint's backstory that is similar to the comics, but obviously have my own spin on them. Just wanted to clarify)

(By the way again, we have a familiar face coming back up in the next couple of chapters, so if you leave a review and guess correctly at who it will be, I'll give you a shoutout. Guess, guess, guess! Review, review, review!)