Day 10: "I'm Sorry. I Didn't Know". Not long after defecting to SHIELD, Natasha is triggered by an everyday object at the Barton farm.


"Are you sure?" Laura asked, her voice laced with concern.

"I am. It's been two weeks without an incident, and I think she could really use a change of scenery," Clint replied. It had been over four weeks since Natasha had defected, all of which had been spent in a cell in SHIELD lockdown. It was a nice cell, with a padded mattress and a private bathroom and a laptop secured to the desk, but it was a cell nonetheless.

"But are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Laura sighed. "Okay then. Next weekend?"

"We'll be there."


"Are you sure I'm ready?" Natasha asked softly as she climbed into the passenger's seat of Clint's truck. Her hair was still as red as ever, but the dark circles under her eyes showcased her exhaustion.

"I'm sure," Clint said, firing up the engine. "Remember you don't have to stay with us all the time. If you want to get out, we have a few acres. See the sights, go for a run, we'll be at the house when you're ready."

"And don't leave the property," Natasha held up her wrist, where a tracking band—courtesy of Fury—resided.

"I didn't say that; Fury did."

"I know." She sagged back into the car seat. "I don't want to hurt Laura or Cooper."

"You won't. I wouldn't bring you here if I thought otherwise."

At the driveway, Clint stopped the car. "You ready?"

Natasha nodded, then reached behind her and pulled out a gun—a gun she wasn't supposed to have. She handed it over to Clint, with a non-apologetic shrug.

He didn't seem surprised, and just ran his thumbprint over the glove box lock to deactivate the smart lock, placing the gun inside. He then pulled his sleeve over his palm and wiped the sensor clean of the residue. Just in case.

"Let's go."


The day stared out fine. Natasha steered far clear of Cooper, but interacted somewhat with Laura. They had arrived after breakfast, so Laura had set a table for a snack of coffee and pastries. In his high chair, Cooper was alternating between squealing happily and banging a plastic spoon against the table.

Afterward, Laura put Cooper down for a nap, while Clint and Natasha went on a walk around the property. When they returned, Laura was setting the table for a late lunch. Clint plastered Cooper, who was back to sitting in his highchair, with kisses, then automatically went to the cupboard closest to Laura to fetch drinking glasses.

"Do you want to grab the bowls?" he then asked Natasha, who was standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. When she nodded, he tilted his head at the cabinets on the other side of the stove.

That's where the day took a sharp turn. The second Natasha opened the cabinet door, she let out a choked shriek and threw herself in the other direction. She crashed into the pantry door and collapsed to the ground, knees to chest, a keening sound slipping from her lips.

"Go," Clint ordered Laura, dropping down beside Natasha.

Without argument, Laura grabbed Cooper and headed upstairs to the master bedroom, where she pulled Clint's gun from the nightstand, and slipped off the safety. She didn't want to use it on Natasha, after everything she'd been through, but she'd do what she had to to protect her child.

Back down in the kitchen, Natasha continued to sob into her knees, shaking like a leaf.

"Natasha," Clint said softly, not wanting to touch her in case that would make the situation worse.

She was mumbling something in Russian, so softly and so quickly he couldn't even catch fragments.

"Natasha," Clint repeated. When she still didn't respond, he settled on another tactic. "I'm Clint Barton. You defected from the KGB a month ago, you've been staying at SHIELD HQ while you settle in. You came with me to my farm this weekend. You met my wife Laura, and my son, Cooper." Clint kept this up until Natasha's sobs slowed, and she finally lifted her head to look up at him. It had been a true release of emotion, and not a decoy like he had considered for less than a split second. Her eyes were red and puffy, tears ran down her face, and she looked genuinely miserable.

"Are you thirsty?" Clint asked. When she nodded stiffly, he reached up to fetch one of the glasses of now-lukewarm water off the counter. He placed it on the ground then slid it over to her.

She sipped at it, then let her head fall back against her knees.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head.

"Can you tell me what it was, so you don't have to go through this again?"

She looked up in mild confusion. "It wasn't a test?" she asked thickly.

Clint shook her head. "There are never any tests at my farm."

She looked like she didn't entirely believe him.

"Natasha, I promise you there are no tests out here. This is my escape, and if you want it, it can be yours too."

She pressed her lips together tightly as she nodded. "Bowls."

Clint rose and pulled the stack of patterned stoneware bowls Natasha had been fetching from the cabinet. Without showing them to her, he moved them into a low cabinet in the buffet in the dining room.

He turned as he felt Natasha's presence behind her.

"Just like that?" she asked in a soft voice.

He nodded. "Just like that."

"What are you going to eat on?" she asked, to which Clint laughed.

"We'll find something, Natasha. Don't worry."

She still looked unsure, like what she had done was wrong.

"It's not, you know," he said as he ushered her back into the kitchen, and gave Laura the all-clear. "Wrong, that is."

"Widows aren't supposed to have emotions," Natasha said as she sat down at the island, and downed another glass of water.

"Well, you're not a Widow anymore," Clint said. "You're a fully-fledged person who has feelings and emotions and wants, and you no longer have to hide those parts of yourself."

Natasha didn't respond, but he could tell she had heard her.

"Just consider it," Clint said as Laura walked back in, sans Cooper.

"He's out," she said to Clint before heading over to the cabinets. If she was surprised by the lack of stoneware bowls, she didn't comment, and instead fished out extras of Cooper's plastic bowls and ladled in the soup.

"I'm sorry," Natasha said almost immediately. "I didn't know—"

"No need to be sorry," Laura said as she handed out the bowls then lead the way into the dining room. "I've seen Clint do worse than that, especially as he was starting out at SHIELD."

Natasha looked at Clint in surprise, which only increased when he nodded.

"Let's eat before it gets cold," Laura then said before handing out spoons.

Natasha accepted one, and took a hesitant sip of the soup. "It's good," she said after a moment. "Thank you."

"I expect you to eat up," Laura said. "There's more than enough for everyone."


It was only once lunch was over and they were putting the dishes in the sink that Natasha spoke up again. "Are you going to tell Fury?"

Clint shook his head. "What happens outside of SHIELD stays outside of SHIELD."

Again, Natasha looked at him in surprise.

"No tests, remember?" he reminded her.

She nodded, still hesitantly, but in his opinion, less so than earlier. "Thanks," she finally said.

Clint knocked his elbow against hers, taking the time to telegraph his movements so she could back away if she wanted to—she didn't—and replied, "You're welcome."


Up next: Day 11: Hallucinations. Continuation of Day 3: Imprisonment, starring our favorite Winn Schott.

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