A/N: Prompt by cashay at the LJ Comment Fic community: MCU, Bucky/Clint/Natasha, there's just something about having your brain scambled that brings people together.


Pitiless

Clint woke because someone very strong was holding down his wrists. The grip was hard enough to bruise and the... not skin of one hand was cool instead of warm.

He opened his arms and realized belatedly he was still trying to thrash in the covers and his lungs couldn't quite catch enough air. Disassociation. He didn't even know what he was fighting and he fell still, staring up at James holding him down on the bed.

Soft red hair fell against his cheek and he turned his head toward Natasha, who leaned closer, murmuring against him.

"Clint," she said softly. His name in her mouth held sentences and paragraphs and whole books they had written in more cities than they would ever count. "They're not blue."

Tension he didn't even know he'd been feeling ran out of his body. As he relaxed, so did James. The metal hand slid off his wrist and settled reassuringly behind his head.

The three of them pulled closer together, breathing in the darkness of night. Tonight, it was Clint's nightmares waking them; tomorrow, it might be Tasha's or James'. They had been there separately, minds unmade and unraveled, and found in each other that wordless understanding to remake themselves into something better, stronger.

Natasha tucked her head against Clint's shoulder, fingers tracing lightly over his chest. James tightened his hold around both of them, metal clenching into a fist against Clint's hip. Clint pitied whatever enemy tried to fight the Winter Soldier for them, as he pitied Loki for earning the Black Widow's vengeful grudge. He pitied no one who dared hurt either of them.

"Night," he said quietly at last. I'm okay. We're okay. Nightmare averted.

He closed his eyes and slept.