Enjoy.
Tears are leaking down her cheeks but she cannot bring herself to care as she cradles his hand with her hands, railing digging into her back as she pulls him partly onto her lap. His breathing his even and his eyes are closed – but instead of the present, with him in her arms, all her mind can grasp is the pained murmur of her name that escaped his lips before she put him into unconsciousness with a swift blow to the temple.
The tears taste salty as they hit her lips and she brushes them off with her pinkie, vision blurry – the water falls onto his own cheeks below her and she feels like curling up into a ball and crying huge sobs that had only escaped her once before, a night where there was pain and horror and desperation. That night had been one of tangled legs and stolen words of passion; the next morning she had woken up with an arrow pinned to the wood of the bed.
But that was not this night; this night she had fought her own partner, where the only man she had ever rusted had pulled a knife on her, the glinting briefly causing a loss of hope in her heart. Her chest felt heavy and a chocked sob rose, contradicting the lump in her throat preventing her voice from escaping.
She should've done more. In the back of her mind she knows he is only unconscious and she needs to get him into a medical room in the back before he wakes up and tries to kill himself – she knows that for a fact – but the day had taken its toll on her; she hadn't slept since the call of their handler.
Barton's been compromised. The slippery words echoed and she almost flinched. Her mind and body were utterly exhausted as her eyes flickered, and for a split moment she thought she might actually fall asleep on the darkened catwalk.
But then, as if in no control of her own, she leans down and presses her forehead to his. She can almost imagine his eyes opening and seeing the horrors he has caused with no fault of his own. Loki will pay, she swore in her mind. He will pay dearly for the pain he has brought.
More tears came down her cheeks as she openly sobbed know, not caring about the security cameras. A boom shook the helicarrier and she shook her head, nose brushing against his.
"Clint," she whispered, voice cracking. "Please, Clint – we need you. I need you."
He didn't stir.
And when he finally did wake it was in a gasp, lips parting and a cry escaping his lips as she was by his side as sweat pooled at his temples and dripped down.
Her hands were trembling as she forced herself to look away from him as he had one moment of weakness. She pleaded them to stop as she brought the water to his lips.
"Drink," she ordered, and he did.
But then she undid the restraints and his hand flew up to her wrist. "Tasha," he whispered, and her heart skipped a beat.
It was then that she knew she would always be compromised for him.