A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, favorited, and read this story. You guys are awesome! A special thanks to the fantastic finchfiesta for doing such a wonderful job beta-ing for me! Feel free to leave reviews. I love them as much as I love seeing Strike Team Delta work together (which is a lot).

The mission Director Fury had sent Natasha on had been tedious. International surveillance with a smattering of interrogation and intelligence gathering, something the Black Widow could have handled with both hands tied behind her back. The Director had been reluctant to give her the assignment in the first place, correctly believing that a lower level agent could handle the job. It took her one day to persuade Director Fury before he agreed to assign her the detail as a solo mission.

It took her almost a week to convince Directory Fury to extend that mission into a deep-cover operation that would expand the parameters of her mission and keep her in the field longer. He thought her skills would be put to better use back at S.H.I.E.L.D. or with the Avengers. Natasha argued that the likelihood of another global event happening in the next month was exceedingly low, and should something arise, she could easily abandon her current mission.

He reluctantly relented. She would have minimal contact with S.H.I.E.L.D. and no contact with the Avengers provided she returned to work with the Avengers after she wrapped up. All things considered, it was exactly what Natasha thought she needed.

She thought about the Avengers less, and focused on work. It became easier and easier to bury her emotions the longer she was in the field, and eventually, her guilt for leaving Clint behind without a word was dulled to a manageable level.

She felt in control of herself. She was whoever she wanted to be without anyone to call her bluff, and part of her liked the feeling. It was easy being the Black Widow. When Director Fury called and told her to finish the mission in three days because they needed her "advanced interrogation expertise", there was no hesitation when she agreed. They needed someone rough to test the extent of an unknown truth serum they were trying to recreate? The Black Widow could be that person.

She finished a day early and spent her remaining time playing tourist. She wandered up and down winding roads, flashing bright smiles at the locals. Her phone was heavy in her pocket, a flashing green light telling her she had a voicemail from Steve whenever she opened it, but she ignored it. He could wait until she returned.

In retrospect, she would have listened to the voicemail sooner. When she finally called Steve back, she would have listened to him closer when he told her about Clint. Most of all, she wouldn't have isolated the one person she would completely trust with her life.

Clint might be a dummy every now and then, but he had always been there for her. He had never cared about her past. She didn't deserve his loyalty, had been a crappy friend of late, but she would make up for it.

Starting with having the other Avengers break Clint out of S.H.I.E.L.D. detainment.

Natasha didn't bother with hanging around S.H.I.E.L.D., heading straight for Avenger's tower instead. The building was quiet. The common room and hospital were empty, although all things considered, she shouldn't have expected anyone to be there. Clint was notorious for his hatred of hospitals.

His room seemed like the next most likely place they would take him. She was halfway there when the sound of Steve and Tony quietly bickering reached her ear. She walked around the corner and found them hovering near the door to Clint's room.

"What happened?" Natasha interrupted, joining the two of them. "Where is Clint?"

Tony turned around, a guilty smile on his face, and shrugged. "Nice to see you back, Agent Romanoff. Did you have a nice trip?"

"Where is Clint?" Natasha repeated stiffly.

"You mean your partner? The guy we rescued from A.I.M. and now S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Tony said. "You're welcome for that, by the way."

"Don't make me hurt you, Tony," Natasha said. The corner of her mouth ticked up in a dangerous smile as she stepped closer.

"We don't know where he is," Steve interrupted. Ever the peacemaker, he stepped between her and Tony. "We got to S.H.I.E.L.D. and found out the World Security Council had detained Hawkeye for questioning. Director Fury told us where to find him and said the Council didn't have the evidence to hold him, but S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't intervene."

"Because it would be a shame if S.H.I.E.L.D. actually cared about their agents," Tony muttered.

"The situation was complicated," Steve amended, "but we got Hawkeye away from them. I swear, we only left him alone for a few minutes, and when we got back to the room, he was gone."

"He ripped off the vent-cover, which someone will have to fix, by the way. We've checked the roof, his room, the range, all of medical, and even a few of the vents, but S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't mention that he would disappear if left unattended," Tony said sulkily. "And somehow he convinced JARVIS to keep quiet about his location."

"If Clint doesn't want you to find him, you won't," Natasha said. "Agent Coulson once spent five days tracking him down after he escaped from medical. Clint had a broken leg and a concussion at the time, and the only reason Clint came out of hiding was because Coulson started a rumor that I was injured."

"And that worked?"

"Coulson also said there would be dogs and free coffee in the cafeteria," Natasha said. "It was hard for Clint to resist."

"So what do we do?" Steve asked. His arms were crossed, brow furrowed in concern.

"Leave Clint alone. He'll come out when he feels like it," Natasha said. "In the meantime, get started on figuring out how to reverse the truth serum and find a way to gain access to the kidnappers. Maybe someone will know how it works."

"And what are you going to do?" Tony asked.

"I'm going to find him," Natasha stated. At their confused looks, she added, "I said you wouldn't find him, I never said I couldn't. There's a difference."

"You'll bring him back to the medical bay?" Steve asked.

"Not a chance," Natasha said, smirking. "Best I can promise is the common room, and only when he decides to go there himself."

"Deal," Tony said. "C'mon, Cap, we gotta find the big hitters and tell them they're wasting their time. Veronica Maris on the case."

They left, Tony trying to explain to Steve who Veronica Mars was, and Natasha charted where she would start.

Clint wouldn't have gone to his usual haunts. Anywhere the others could reliably expect to find him was out. Removing the vent cover was a nice touch, a good distraction that she would compliment him on later.

Downstairs then. Somewhere cluttered with lots of storage and hiding areas in case someone thought to look there and he needed to move around. Certain places, like the garage, were unlikely due to the large number of people coming and going. Other places were too small for him to choose. She guessed that left her with twelve possible places that fit the description, and eight that she could actually see him hiding in.

She found him in the sixth room she checked.

The boiler room turned 'junk storage room' was larger than Natasha thought it would be. There were rows of shelves stacked neatly with boxes labeled everything from 'Stuff Dum-E Broke' to 'Pepper's Nice Holiday Decorations', and it all had a surprisingly tidy appearance. Natasha assumed it was all Pepper's hard work that kept it that way.

Muttering from the far corner of the room drew her to something that looked like a larger water heater, and eventually she was able to make out a shadow that she assumed was Clint. She didn't soften the sound of her footsteps, but somehow, he didn't notice she was there until she was a few feet away from him.

"Hey Tasha!" Clint said, grinning brightly at her. "Glad you could join the party!"

"I don't see how this is a party," Natasha said. She took a seat across from him on a metal box and crossed her legs.

Clint laughed, glancing at the spot next to her, and shook his head. "Yeah, I can't say Barney and I make the best company. Trust me when I say it could be a lot worse, though."

"Are you okay, Clint?" Natasha asked. He wasn't. Hallucinations aside, he looked like a stray dog that someone had finally taken pity on and brought inside out of the rain. The corner of the room he had wedged himself into was warm from the constantly running machinery, but he was still shivering. Still, his answer would give her a good idea of his stability. A Clint Barton who denied being hurt was better off than a Clint Barton that admitted he was injured.

Clint placed his index finger thoughtfully on his lips, one eyebrow raising in question when he used that hand to point at her and said, "I could ask the same thing about you."

"I've been on assignment with S.H.I.E.L.D.. It took longer than expected, but no unexpected casualties."

He nodded, pulling both legs up and resting his arms casually on his knees. "Way to go, Romanoff. I'd expect nothing less from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best."

"Good. Now answer my question."

"I'm doing great. Never been more relaxed."

"Then what are you doing down here?"

"Hiding," Clint said with a smile. "I figured the roof would be too obvious and the range is out of the question until I can shoot again, but the basement seemed like equal parts inconspicuous and comfortable."

Natasha barely contained her eye roll. "Why are you hiding, Clint?" Natasha rephrased. "Everyone was looking for you."

"Give them a month, I'm sure they'll figure out where I am eventually," Clint said bitterly. His hands were clenched, eyes glaring daggers at the box she sat on.

"Clint-"

"No, Tasha. I know what you're gonna say. You want to say something about how I'm a coward for hiding, go for it. But I have been watched constantly since A.I.M., and this is the first time I've been alone in more than a month," Clint said. "I need this. I need to think because I wasn't sure anybody was coming for me, and that was fine. Except they did come, and now they don't want to leave me alone? Why do they suddenly care? And what's more, I'm sick of how they look at me, okay?"

"How do they look at you?"

"Like I'm fragile. Like they feel guilty, and they don't know what to do about it. Steve hovers and alternates between looking sad and angry. Tony rambles, and Thor keeps trying to make everything okay. I know Bruce doesn't like to be alone with me. I think he's afraid of me, but he feels obliged to doctor me. And you-"

Clint hesitated, one hand covering his face briefly before he dropped it to reveal a roguish grin. He laughed shortly, the sound familiar yet uncanny, and when he had regained his composure, he stared at her with narrowed eyes and said, "And I have no idea what I did to piss you off so futzing much."

"You didn't do anything."

"I must've done something because you've been avoiding me. You don't want to work with me, and you didn't tell me you were shipping out for a solo mission," Clint said. "I thought we were in this together, Tasha. We're still friends, aren't we?"

"Of course."

"Then why ask me to join the Avengers with you, if you don't want me on the team? I don't belong on the Avengers, Tasha. I want to be an Avenger, I work hard every day to make sure I don't miss so I can be, but I don't understand how they work," Clint said. "I know what S.H.I.E.L.D. wants from me. They want an assassin. But I can't figure out why the Avengers keep me around."

"You're an asset to this team, Clint. You try harder than most people without expecting anyone to notice; I'll bet we've each owed you our lives at one point or another," Natasha said. "You deserve to be an Avenger. Maybe more than everyone. And at some point, you're going to have to accept that as an Avenger, you have people who care about you."

Natasha expected a smart remark or a deflection, but none came. Clint had an odd look on his face, contemplative and nervous as he raised a hand to either side of his head and fiddled with his hearing aids. There was a moment where he hesitated, glaring at the ground while his fingers dug into the skin on the back of his neck. He took a deep breath, stormy blue eyes flicking up to meet hers.

"Why were you pushin' me away, Tasha? I keep gettin' the feelin' you don't want me around, and I don't know what to do about it. If you wanna cut ties, I-" His voice caught, body taut and frozen in place. "I'd understand. I don't wanna lose you, but I'll do whatever you want."

He watched her closely, waiting for her answer, and suddenly everything clicked into place. Clint had turned his hearing aids off. He had assumed she was a hallucination, but something she said made him think otherwise, and now he was testing her. She knew the question was important to him. The difference was that he didn't want to hear the answer.

"I was afraid," Natasha admitted. "After S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, I was convinced you knew too much about me. It made me uncomfortable, and I thought distancing myself would be for the best. I was wrong."

Clint sighed, burying his face into his knees, his right hand tucked close to his chest. "Damn it, Nat," Clint said, his voice muffled. "I wish I could hear what you said."

They were quiet for a long time. Clint alternated between mumbling incoherently into his legs and rubbing small circles onto his chest while taking carefully measured breaths. Natasha, for her part, did her best to seem uninterested, attempting to give him the space he needed. She estimated twenty minutes passed before he raised his head to look at her, a crooked and tired smile on his face when he switched on his hearing aids.

"Do you want to talk about what just happened?" Natasha asked.

Clint shook his head. "No. I'd be happy to never talk about it."

"Fine," Natasha said. "But you have to tell me how long you've been deaf."

Clint rubbed the back of his neck, thought for a minute, and said, "Couple of years. Around the time you went undercover as Stark's assistant."

"And you long have you been agonizing over the best way to tell me?"

"About the same," Clint said. "Did you know?"

"I suspected something was off," Natasha said. She stretched, legs hanging lazily off her perch. "I didn't investigate, if that's what you're asking. I knew you would tell me either when you felt comfortable or if it became necessary. It never affected your job, so I didn't think it was important."

"Thanks, Nat," Clint said. He unfolded, legs straightened so they almost touched her, his arms still tucked closed to him, but all the tension gone from him.

"When you're ready, come up to the common room. You can hide in your room and deal with everyone bursting in to make sure you're alive or sleep in the common room tonight. You're choice," Natasha said. "If you drink water and take your medication without complaint, I'll convince Bruce to hold off on the medical exam until tomorrow."

"Are you bribing me, Romanoff?"

"I could threaten you, if you prefer."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. said no meds until they figure out how they'll interact with the serum."

"I'll run it by Bruce."

"Then I'll take the bribe."

"Smart choice, Barton."

Natasha nudged his foot out of the way and stood. "You okay?"

Clint smirked, a knowing look on his face. "Yeah. I'm great."

Natasha nodded and left. Clint would be fine. And if he wasn't he would get there.

She made her way back up to the common room where the other Avengers were waiting for her. Bruce had taken a seat on the smaller couch, intently reading a file that Natasha assumed was Clint's most current medical record. Steve and Thor were talking quietly near the large windows looking out onto the city while Tony prepared himself a drink.

"Did you find Clint?" Steve asked, watching her hopefully.

Natasha gave him a withering look. "Would I be here if I didn't find him?" she said. She grabbed two water bottles from the small refrigerator near the bar and plopping them on the coffee table in front of the larger sofa. She sat in one corner, booted up Tony's vast movie supply, and loaded Blade Runner onto the vast television screen.

"Is he alright?" Bruce asked. "Medically speaking. Do we need to be concerned?"

"He's fine," Natasha said. "S.H.I.E.L.D. refused to give him any medications because of the serum, but see if there's anything he can take. Preferably something for pain. Put them on the table, and I'll make sure he takes it. Meds only tonight, Doc. You'll have to save the exam for tomorrow."

Bruce nodded. "I'll check what we have," Bruce said, leaving the room.

"Why did Barton run?" Thor asked, genuine concern on his face. "We are his friends, are we not? It is our wish to help him."

"Clint has issues with hospitals," Natasha said, the 'among other things' thought. "Don't ask."

"We won't," Steve said, staring at Tony to emphasize the point. "Should we wait here for him?"

"I wouldn't recommend it," Natasha said. "Give him the rest of the night off, and if you can't do that, give us an hour."

"Technically, this is the common room. You don't have the right to kick us out," Tony said. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him in challenge. Tony tried valiantly to stare her down and failed. He turned to Bruce who had re-entered the room and changed tactics. "But Bruce and I were leaving anyway to do science stuff with the truth serum."

He grabbed Bruce, giving the other man just enough time to place a bottle on the table and tell her how many tablets to give Clint, before dragging him toward the elevator where they both went inside and disappeared to the labs. Steve and Thor awkwardly excused themselves, and Natasha was finally alone. Eight minutes later, and right on time, Clint shuffled into the room.

Barefoot, wearing his purple sweatpants with the broken drawstring, and a loose white tee-shirt with a purple target on the front, Clint dropped onto the opposite corner of the couch and let out a groan.

"What hurts?" Natasha asked, handing him a bottle of water and counting out two tablets of Ibuprofen.

"Everything, Nat," Clint whined. "I think my headache has a headache."

Natasha handed him a couple of pills, waiting until he swallowed them before asking, "Do you want a head massage to take your mind off it?"

"No."

"But do you need it?"

Clint sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Probably."

Natasha made herself comfortable, spread a blanket over her lap, and turned on the movie before she patted the top of her knee invitingly. Clint hesitated, slowly easing himself down so the side of his face was resting on her thigh, eyes facing the television and tension radiating through his body.

He hated this. Unromantic physical contact, even with Natasha, always tended to make him squirrely. She lightly ran her fingers through his hair, placing gentle pressure on his temples and scratching lightly at his scalp. He stiffened, only practice and training keeping him from flinching, and it was several minutes before he fully relaxed.

"Thanks, Nat," he said reluctantly, rubbing at right ear. "You could make a living out of this if the whole 'spy/Avengers' doesn't work out."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Reminds me of that time in Ukraine."

"I wasn't massaging your head. I was trying to stop it from bleeding after you thought falling off a roof was a good idea."

"Same thing."

Clint rubbed at his ear again, and Natasha paused.

"Do you want to take your hearing aids out? I turned on the subtitles."

"And miss the beautiful timbre of Harrison Ford's voice in the best movie ever created? I think not."

"Clint."

"I couldn't hear anything for a month, Tasha," Clint whispered, his voice gruff. "I'll take discomfort over silence."

"Okay," Natasha said. She left it alone, and resumed massaging his head. The low sound of the movie washed over them, overlaid by Clint's own commentary, until his mumbling turned into quiet snores.

The movie wasn't even halfway finished, but Natasha let him sleep. She shooed away the other Avengers when they came in, threatening them with glares when they were too loud. When the movie ended, she started another.

She wasn't moving anytime soon.

A/N: I don't know much about sign language besides what google can tell me, so if you know better, feel free to correct me. I looked up a couple of signs, and the sign for the word "real" is made by placing your index finger against your lips and moving it away from you. Clint asks her if she is real, and knows by what she does next that she is. He just pretends that he doesn't know.