Hey babes! Welcome to the story. This is my first foray into the Clintasha/Marvel fandom, but not my first time writing fics. i've been a diehard Clintasha shipper since they were both introduced into the MCU and I always will be.
I've had this idea for a little while and finally got this story finished after reworking certain bits of it. There are certain elements of this story that were inspired by a friend of mine's story, so shout out to her for that.
Anyways, enjoy!
Clint Barton is no stranger to long days and sleepless nights, rationing food, and limited trips to the bathroom, all in the name of taking out a mark. He's done it countless times over the last few years since joining S.H.I.E.L.D. and has the whole stake-out thing down to a science by now, especially when he's on his own. Being on his own means he can turn his hearing aids off and tune out the rest of the world. His phone will buzz in his pocket if someone—usually Coulson, Hill, or Fury—needs to contact him for an emergency, so it's perfect. He doesn't have to worry about anyone else.
The only thing that sets this particular op apart from many of the other ones he's done is that this mark is extremely difficult to get a good view of. The file on her potential attacks is larger than the file on her. The one about her personally is thin, at best, and all it really tells him is that she is extremely dangerous and efficient in all her kills. According to the information S.H.I.E.L.D. gathered, this woman has racked up hundreds upon hundreds of kills (there are probably hundreds more they don't know of), and she never leaves a trace.
That's not to say the higher-ups don't get lucky on occasion, because they clearly noticed some kind of pattern to the killings. How else would they have enough evidence to be able to sanction a mission going after her?
However, just because they've sanctioned a mission to go after her, doesn't mean it's been successful. If it had been successful the first time around, he wouldn't have been called in. Very few agents have been able to find her, let alone get close enough to take her out.
Which is perfectly fine with him. He's worked off of way less before. And he's damn good at his job. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to find and track this woman down as quickly as he was able to.
He's made himself a nest of sorts on the rooftop across the building she holed herself up in a few days ago after arriving. She hasn't once stepped back out and her curtains are rarely open, which means he hasn't been able to get her in his sights long enough to take the shot. Which is what he's here for. But she's not making it easy for him. Not that he'd expect her to.
He may very well be freezing his ass off, and he might be starting to lose feeling in his fingers, but he's determined to see this through. He just has to wait and hope that she leaves at some point so he can take the shot and be done with it, allowing a cleanup crew to come in and take over. Other agents might have gotten bored at this point and given up, but he's always been especially good at the whole sitting quietly and waiting thing.
Finally, nearly a week later, the woman leaves. So Clint gathers up only the essentials and follows her. Again.
He keeps a good amount of distance between them and stays high so he has a better eye on things as he follows her through crowded street after crowded street. He almost comes close to losing sight of her a few times, given that she's wearing all dark clothing that covers her from head to toe, but he is one of the best at what he does and he, thankfully, always manages to locate her again.
He has no idea where she's going, naturally, and there is a small part of him that wonders if she knows that he's following her. She has managed to evade other intelligence agencies for years, after all, and she wouldn't be able to accomplish that without being able to pick up on a tail.
Eventually, the woman starts slowing down as they get to a less crowded part of the town they're in that he's forgotten the name of. Her head turns in every possible direction and her eyes dart from person to person, clearly on high alert. It's a residential area, house after house lining the streets and children playing in front yards while their parents watch over them.
He's on the ground now, figuring people would notice a strange man leaping across rooftops of houses and wouldn't take too kindly to that, and follows the woman as she walks determinedly toward the end of the road where a house sits, looking abandoned and a bit rundown. Clint stops a few houses away and ducks down out of sight, watching as the woman disappears behind the rundown house.
He stays hidden for a while, waiting to see if she'll emerge from the house again or if anyone is going to show up. When nothing happens after several minutes, he figures it's as good a time as any to finally get the drop on her. He's not a big fan of being in such close quarters to his mark when he's taking them out, but sometimes an op requires some adapting.
Peering around him, he checks for any potential eyes on him before moving forward and following the same path the woman did mere moments ago. There's a sizeable gap in one of the back windows on the lower level of the house and he manages to squeeze himself and his gear through it. The house is eerily quiet as soon as he lands inside, and it sends a shiver straight down the center of his spine.
So he unpacks his bow and knocks an arrow into place.
Most other agents, when they first meet him and realize that his choice of weapon is the bow and arrow over a gun, they just laugh at him. Until they see what he can do with one. There's not much laughter after that.
Moving slowly through the house, it doesn't take Clint very long to realize it's quiet because he never turned his aids back on. But he's much too focused on his goal right now to flip that switch. Plus, sometimes he works better when he can't hear, when he has to rely on his other senses to get him out of a jam. Though, with the severity of this op, maybe he should allow himself to hear what's going on around him. From what he's heard and read, no one ever knows the Black Widow is on them until it's too late. Even when they can hear. So maybe it doesn't matter if his aids are turned on or not.
Just as he's about to reach for one of his aids, he feels the wooden floorboards shift beneath him. There's someone else here, standing behind him. They're probably talking to him or waiting for him to say something, no doubt growing more annoyed by the second when he doesn't respond.
Keeping his bow up and trained in front of him, Clint slowly turns on his heels, stopping once he's turned a full one-eighty. His breath catches when he sees the woman standing in front of him. For a couple of reasons.
First, she can't be any older than he is, which is absolutely insane considering that all the hits the higher-ups believe were done by the Black Widow go back several decades. So either she actually is as old as she looks and she's not the only one carrying out hits, or she's a lot older than she looks and is solely responsible for all of those deaths.
Second, she's beautiful. Though, calling her beautiful seems like a bit of an understatement. Her fiery red hair is pulled back into a tight braid, her striking features capture his attention immediately, and her mesmerizing green eyes seem to stare right into his soul.
She's the enemy, though. He shouldn't be thinking about how she took his breath away. He should have taken the shot the second he turned around and realized who she was. He never hesitates.
Once he focuses again, he can see her lips are moving but can't hear a word she's saying. And his lip reading skills are pretty subpar. As he's raising a hand to turn on his aids, he finally notices the gun she has trained on him, so he simply points to his ear, in hopes that the message gets across.
Her eyes narrow slightly before there's a small, almost imperceptible nod of her head.
Reaching up the rest of the way, he flips on both hearing aids and then takes a moment for his head to adjust to the influx of noises again. That's when he finally hears the woman in front of him speaking, but she's very clearly speaking Russian and he's only able to pick out certain words here and there.
"My name is Clint Barton," he tells her calmly as he lowers his bow, knowing that she understands him. She wouldn't be one of the deadliest assassins in the world if she didn't understand more than one language.
Her hand on her weapon tightens. "American," she says in a thick Russian accent, nearly spitting on the word.
Clint nods. "Yes. I've told you my name. Wanna tell me yours?"
Hesitation flashes across her face for the briefest moment, her eyes dragging slowly down his body and then back up. "Natalia."
"Okay. Natalia. Think you can stop pointing that gun at me? I already put my weapon down."
Natalia's eyes dart quickly to the bow hanging at his side and then back to him. Her gun stays trained on him.
Clint sighs. "Fine, if that makes you feel safer, then by all means, keep it pointed at me."
"Why you are here?" she asks him.
"I was sent here to kill you."
Her grip tightens on the gun again. "Who sent you?"
"S.H.I. . It's an American intelligence organization, operating in the shadows. You've pissed off a lot of people across the globe, caused a lot of problems. I was sent here to take you out."
Her eyes narrow. "But you did not. Why? What you want?"
"Honestly? I don't know."
The room around them is quiet again, Natalia's gun still trained on him and her eyes narrowed thinly.
Trying his absolute best to make it out of this alive, Clint runs her questions through his head over and over but still can't come up with an answer for either of them. Why didn't he take the shot? Why didn't he kill her where she stood? Why didn't he finish the job already? He's been on dozens of jobs similar to this before, where he's been tasked with tracking someone down and taking them out from a distance. Sometimes he's had to get close to finish the job. But he always finishes the job. So why couldn't he do it this time around? What exactly is he hoping to achieve?
"Мама."
Clint watches as Natalia's body tenses at the sound of the small voice coming from somewhere off to the side. But just as quickly as she had tensed up, she relaxes again. Though, not fully, he supposes. He follows the direction the voice came from, his eyes widening when he sees a small child peeking around the corner.
Natalia reaches out a hand and utters something he can't quite understand. Then the child, a little girl, is moving toward her and reaching out. Natalia picks the child up effortlessly with one arm and balances her easily on her hip. All while keeping her gun and her eyes trained on him. He shouldn't be impressed.
Natalia remains quiet, her eyes locked on him as she holds the girl protectively against her.
It doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together. The way the girl is clinging to the front of Natalia's shirt, and the fact that she called her 'mama' would have been more than enough evidence to support his conclusion. But then he takes in their incredibly similar features, right down to the fiery red hair and the entrancing eyes.
This is Natalia's daughter.
It doesn't make any sense with everything he's been told or read about the infamous Black Widow. The Black Widow is supposed to be cold, calculated, heartless, and ruthless. She's not supposed to be a mother.
"Well, this is….an unexpected turn of events. What's her name?" he asks, gesturing with his head toward the girl.
Still, Natalia doesn't say anything, her slightly less narrowed gaze fixed on him. The little girl's eyes keep darting between him and Natalia, one of her tiny fists shoved in her mouth.
"I promise I'm not going to hurt her," he says carefully. "I just want to know what her name is."
More hesitation from Natalia. And then, "Anya."
Clint nods slowly, letting the new name slot itself into his memory. "Anya," he tries it out, forcing back a smile when little Anya perks up at hearing her name. "I like it."
"They take her," Natalia tells him stiffly. "But I find her. Moya doch'. YA ne pozvolyu im zabrat' yeye."
Clint nods in understanding. At least, he thinks he has an idea of what she said. Someone tried to take Natalia's daughter away from her. But she clearly wasn't going to let that happen.
"You don't want to be separated," he says, glancing between Natalia and Anya. "I think…I think I might be able to help with that."
"How?"
"S.H.I.E.L.D."
Her eyes narrow again and she pulls Anya closer. "They send you to kill me."
"I know. But we're all still alive right now. So that has to count for something, right?" He sighs when she stays quiet, shifting a little on his feet. "Look, I can't promise that it'll be easy for either of you. But something tells me that whoever it is that took her from you the first time won't stop until they succeed. My people can help you stop those people. Anya won't be taken from you again."
Natalia's eyes drift down to her daughter, the little girl now smiling brightly up at her mother. The edges of Natalia's lips twitch before her emotionless mask is back in place as she looks at him. "No take."
"No take," he echoes with a small shake of his head. "I promise."
Natalia watches him a moment longer, then flicks the safety of her gun on and lowers it.
Clint lets out a breath. "Does that mean you'll come with me?"
She nods once. "Da. We go."
Clint smiles. "Excellent. We've gotta be careful, though. And I gotta call my handler and let him know about the…change of plans."
He lets out a heavy breath at the thought of the conversation he's going to have; Coulson isn't going to be thrilled that he disobeyed direct orders and went against the mission, even though he's known to sometimes do things a little differently than what his orders entail. But if he couldn't follow through with the op before, then he really can't go through with it now. Not with the new information he has on the situation.
He barely knows Natalia and young Anya, but somehow, he already cares about them a lot and knows he can't let anything bad happen to either of them again. He's going to see to it personally that they stay safe. Even if it means he's going to be in serious trouble with the higher-ups.
.
.
.
Thankfully they get out of the town without any hiccups and make their way to the quinjet Clint used to fly into the country. Natalia is wary at first, naturally, but Anya seems intrigued by the giant jet, and that intrigue only grows as the ramp gets lowered. He leads them up and then closes it again, concealing the three of them inside.
They don't fly anywhere right away, though. His first task is to contact Coulson and tell him about the situation, though maybe not about Anya right away, and hope that he doesn't get severely reprimanded for disobeying orders. Again. He probably will, though. He'll probably be given the easier, boring ops that no one ever wants to take.
Making sure Natalia and Anya are settled in, Clint steps away and pulls out his phone to get in touch with Coulson. He casts a glance over his shoulder at the red-headed duo as he waits for the call to connect. A small smile tugs at his lips when he sees Natalia speaking softly to Anya, and then Anya lifts just enough to press sloppy kisses to her mom's cheek, making Natalia laugh quietly.
"Coulson."
He quickly whips his head away from the scene, focusing on the phone conversation. "Sir, it's Barton."
"Barton, good to finally hear from you. Status report?"
"It's finished." He pauses, then adds, "Technically."
It's silent for longer than he'd like. "What does technically mean, Agent Barton?"
Clint shifts on his feet. "I've eliminated the target…just not how you wanted me to."
An exasperated sigh from his handler. "Barton, what the hell did you do now?"
"I didn't kill her. But it's okay, I don't think she wants to be that person anymore."
"How can you be so sure about that?"
He casts another glance over his shoulder, watching the mother and daughter interact quietly. "Trust me on this, Phil. She wants out of that life. I told her that S.H.I.E.L.D. can give her a better one."
"Let me speak with her."
"Sir…"
"Barton, put her on the phone," Coulson tells him, the tone of his voice leaving no room for further argument.
Clint sighs and nods. "Yes, sir." He pulls the phone away from his ear and mutes it, then turns around to face Natalia. "My handler wants to speak with you. I didn't tell him about Anya," he's quick to say when he sees Natalia hugging the small child closer. "I think he's just wary about whether or not you actually want to defect."
Natalia nods sharply. "I will talk." She looks down at Anya and utters something in Russian to the girl, most likely an instruction to remain quiet.
Clint approaches and holds the phone out as he takes the call off of mute. He watches as she presses the phone to her ear and listens to whatever Coulson is saying, occasionally chiming in with her own thoughts and answers.
His gaze drifts down to Anya as he tunes out Natalia's conversation with Coulson. The little girl is staring right back at him, remaining quiet as she sits curled up in her mother's lap. She still has part of Natalia's shirt held tightly in her small fist, though it looks to be a bit of a looser grip than it was before. Anya's a pretty cute kid, too, and he thinks he can understand why Natalia would want to get out of the life she's been living and start a new one.
He's brought out of his head by Natalia shoving the phone against his chest.
"Talk," she says, gesturing to it with her head. "Make plan."
He worldlessly grabs the phone and presses it to his ear as he turns and walks back toward where he was before. "Sir?"
"She's offered to give us the Red Room, the organization that she says trained her and many others like her. She's going to help us take out their leaders. In return, we'll give her refuge in the US and a new way to utilize her skillset. She'll be under our protection and she'll be your responsibility."
Clint's brows shoot up. "My responsibility?"
"You're the one who felt the need to rescue her, Barton, you can help rehabilitate her as well."
"Um, okay. So, what do we need to do?"
They spend a few more minutes talking, and it's decided that they'll return to the States first so that they can all speak in person and figure out a solid plan on how to go about taking down the Red Room. Clint's anticipating a lengthy lecture from Fury about how taking in the enemy is not the way to go about things, but he has a small inkling that Coulson might try to lessen the blowback of the whole thing for him.
Once the phone call is finished, Clint settles himself in the cockpit of the quinjet, strapping himself in and starting up the engines. "Better strap in," he calls over his shoulder, barely casting them a glance as he finishes checking everything over to make sure they'll make it back safely.
He carefully guides the jet up and into the air, getting them high enough before setting the coordinates for S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ and turning on autopilot. Then he unbuckles himself from the seat and moves into the back of the plane to join Natalia and Anya. He keeps a few seats between them, though, not wanting Natalia to feel trapped or anything, considering they still barely know each other.
He watches as Anya plays absentmindedly with the ends of her mother's hair, sticking a few of the strands into her mouth. Natalia doesn't even seem fazed by it.
"She's cute," he eventually speaks up. "I uh, I was going to say it earlier but it didn't seem like the right time."
Natalia quickly looks up at him. "Spasibo."
He nods, not needing a translator to understand the word in context. "You're welcome. How old is she?"
Natalia's brows furrow slightly as she looks at her daughter, then back at him. "Ten."
Clint raises a brow. "Ten months?"
Natalia nods. "Da."
Clint lets out a breath and leans back in his seat. "Wow. And she's already walking and talking like a pro? Must be a smart kid."
Natalia shrugs but doesn't say anything.
"I like her name too," he says.
Natalia nods. "I pick. They not know."
"You mean the Red Room? They don't know her name?"
"They not give her one. So I pick."
"Well, you picked a good one." Clint shifts in his seat and yawns. Now that there's no imminent danger or mission-fueled adrenaline coursing through his veins, the exhaustion is finally catching up to him. He doesn't even know when the last time he slept was.
Another yawn escapes him.
"If I try to catch up on the sleep I missed out on tailing you, you're not going to kill me, are you? Because your defection kind of hinges on me vouching for you."
Natalia shakes her head. "You save us. I will not kill."
Clint nods. "Good to know." He slumps down a little in the seat. "The quinjet is gonna alert us when we're getting closer, so just shake me when it goes off, okay?"
Natalia nods. "Da."
"Great." Reaching up, he switches off his aids and then lets out a breath as he closes his eyes.
It's easy to tune things out when he can't hear anything, but that doesn't mean he's one hundred percent unaware of what's going on around him. And while normally he wouldn't fall asleep while sitting next to the supposed enemy, there's something about Natalia that tells him he'll be okay.
So he lets himself succumb to sleep. He lets his other senses turn off for a bit too, allowing his body to truly relax, rest, and recharge. He really needs it if they're going to be going off on a life-threatening mission soon. Those ones always take so much out of him.
.
.
.
Arriving at S.H.I.E.L.D., Clint's not entirely sure what to expect. He thinks for a moment that maybe he should have already told Coulson about Anya. But he's fairly confident that Natalia didn't want anyone to know about her daughter until it was absolutely necessary. Which means everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to be woefully unprepared for dealing with a small child of an international assassin.
Thankfully, he was able to convince Fury to have only Coulson and one or two doctors present—so sue him if he's concerned about Natalia's and Anya's wellbeing—for when they get off the plane. He doesn't want Natalia to be overwhelmed by people she doesn't know. If they're going to be having her work for them once she's fully defected, they need her to feel safe, like she's not the enemy anymore. That goes for anything involving her daughter as well.
True to the Director's word, only Coulson and a single medical officer are present when the ramp of the quinjet is lowered. Clint can see the shock on both agents' faces at seeing the child in Natalia's arms, but they both mask it quickly enough.
"Agent Barton."
Clint nods once at his handler. "Coulson. Lovely to see you again."
"Don't be a wise ass. Natalia," the older man says, turning toward the redhead, "I'm Agent Coulson, we spoke on the phone. I'm glad you've decided to join us. If you want to follow Doctor Palmer, she'll take you to the med bay so we can do a standard physical to make sure you're in good health before we get started on other important matters."
Natalia's quiet for a moment and then looks over at him. "You will come too?"
"If you want me to," he says, not sure if she's actually starting to trust him or if it's simply because he's the only one she knows. "I have to get started on some paperwork for the op, so I might not—"
"As if you actually want to do the paperwork," Coulson interrupts with a chuckle. "Go with her to the med bay. I'll hold off Fury for as long as I can, but he will want to speak with you as soon as possible."
Clint sighs. "Yeah, I figured as much." He walks with Natalia to the med bay following behind Doctor Palmer. He keeps glancing over at Natalia periodically and is unsurprised to find her entire body tense and her eyes darting in every direction, no doubt memorizing the route they're taking and everything along the way. He can't blame her, he did the exact same thing when he first arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D.
The only one who seems to be completely at ease with everything is Anya. She's happily babbling away quietly while playing with the ends of her mom's hair. It's a sweet sight.
Once they reach the medbay, Clint takes immediate notice of the agents posted throughout the space, their eyes fixed on Natalia as she's led toward an exam bed. He can tell that they're all trying to be subtle, and not at all like they're keeping an eye on her, but they're failing miserably. He's sure Natalia has spotted them as well, but she hasn't reacted to it yet.
It doesn't take long before he hears the shouting. Various voices coming from the same direction Natalia was directed to moments ago. He recognizes her voice immediately, even though he's only heard her speak a few words at a time very sparingly.
He's across the floor in an instant, his eyes being drawn right to Natalia. She's on the exam bed, sitting as far back as she can be, little Anya curled up securely in her lap, clinging tightly to her mom's shirt. A small surgical blade is clutched tightly in one of Natalia's hands, extended out toward the group of doctors in front of her, her eyes darting menacingly from person to person, occasionally shouting things in Russian.
"What's going on?" Clint asks as he approaches the person closest to him.
"There's only so much of the exam we can do with the two of them holding onto each other, so we tried to take the little girl to check her over more thoroughly and she–"
Clint holds up a hand to stop the person from speaking. He doesn't need to hear more to know exactly what happened. He should have thought to warn them.
Stepping forward, he pushes past the small crowd that had gathered and approaches the bed with his hands up. "Natalia?" he speaks softly, hoping not to startle her too badly. "Natalia, it's okay. It's just me. It's Clint."
Her eyes shoot to him and narrow. "They try and take her. You promise me. You promise me they will not take."
Clint nods. "I know I did. And they're not taking her, not like before. They just want to make sure that she's healthy, that she's okay. Just like they're gonna do for you."
Natalia eyes him warily, and he can't say he blames her for not trusting him. She hesitates, her eyes drifting down to her daughter and then back up at him. "You will go with her."
It's not a question, but it doesn't sound quite like a demand either.
Clint nods anyway. "I can do that. I can make sure they do their job, and then I'll bring her back to you. No take. I promise."
He watches as Natalia's body relaxes some, her grip on the surgical blade loosening, the small object falling to the bed with a quiet thud. She's unsurprisingly still tense, but she peels her daughter off of her body and holds her out.
Clint swoops in to grab the little girl before any of the doctors can, which would probably just set Natalia off again. He awkwardly maneuvers the infant until she's settled on his hip, both of his arms wrapped securely around her waist to hold her close enough to him. He flashes the older redhead what he hopes to be an encouraging and reassuring smile, and then carries Anya over to another exam table a few feet away.
He sets the young girl down on the table, chuckling quietly to himself when she just narrows her eyes at him. He didn't think it'd be possible for a baby to glare, but lo and behold, life continues to surprise him. He really shouldn't be surprised, though, given who Anya's mother is. He may have only known the both of them for a short time, but he already feels like he knows so much about them.
Anya's checkup is thorough but relatively quick. They go through all the basic exam parameters for an infant and Anya hardly fusses at all. She's one of the most chill and relaxed babies Clint has ever met. Not that he's met too many babies in his lifetime, just that she seems a lot calmer than he thought she'd be. Even when she gets poked by a couple of needles, all she does is screw her face up and make a disgruntled noise.
Clint can't keep the smile off of his face the whole time he watches the exam. He'd be lying if he said this kid hasn't already wormed her way into his usually closed-off heart. After everything he's been through in his life, very few people can say that they have his utmost trust and loyalty. This kid is slowly working her way to becoming one of those people.
Once Anya's exam is over and the doctors have determined that she's perfectly healthy other than being a little underweight for her age, Clint carries the girl back over to her mom. His heart swells completely out of his control when he realizes the girl is clinging to him almost the same way she clings to Natalia, one of her small hands gripping tightly to the collar of his shirt.
"She's perfectly fine," Clint tells Natalia as he approaches her bed, gently bouncing Anya a little in his arms. "They said she's a little underweight, but she'll get to where she's supposed to be in no time at all."
Natalia nods and then smiles gently at her daughter. She mutters something quietly and then Anya is leaning out toward her.
Clint stoops down just enough so that he can more easily transfer Anya into Natalia's arms, and then stands back up to his full height. A smile tugs at his lips as he watches Anya curl up in her mother's lap again, though his eyes go wide and he quickly averts his gaze when he sees Natalia undoing and then pulling down the front of the hospital-style gown she'd been given to wear.
"Uh, you can tell me to go if you're gonna nurse her," he remarks, turning his body a little to help him not see anything.
"Why? Is natural, no?"
He shrugs. "Well, yeah, I guess. I just didn't think you'd want anyone to watch while you did it. Actually, now that I think about it, I should probably go and start that paperwork. And check in with Coulson. So I'll uh, I'll leave you two to, uh…yeah."
"You will be back?"
He turns toward Natalia, making it a point to look directly at her face. "I will. I just have to check on some things. I promise I'll be back." He offers her a small smile and then turns to make his way out of the med bay.
As soon as he steps into the hall, he nearly collides with another body. He looks up and lets out a breath when he sees who it is, his entire body relaxing and half a smile tugging at his lips. "Hi, Laura."
Laura looks him up and down and then laughs. "Hey. You look like hell."
"Gee, thanks. Good to see you too. Where you headed?"
"Med bay. Coulson said my skills might be useful with the new defector. He thinks it might make her a little more comfortable if she can speak in Russian and have another woman helping her out for a bit."
Clint sucks in a breath. "Right. I do remember him mentioning that on the phone. Uh, good luck. And whatever you do, don't try and take her kid away from her without fully explaining what's going on."
Laura's eyes go wide. "She's a mom?"
Clint nods. "I know. Surprised me too when I found out. Uh, I gotta go see Coulson, but have fun in there."
"Thanks."
Clint gives her shoulder a quick squeeze as he walks past her in the direction of Coulson's office. Paperwork is the very last thing he wants to do, but he knows he needs to do it. And he knows a stern talking to from Fury is in his very near future, so he'd rather get that done with as soon as possible. If he could just do missions without all the follow-up, that would be the ideal world.
But nothing about his life has ever been ideal, so he doesn't know why it would start now.
.
.
.
It takes them several days to sort out the plan to take down the Red Room and its leader, Dreykov. In the midst of it, they're also getting everything started for Natalia's defection, which certainly isn't an easy task, especially with them having to fudge records for Anya since those don't exist either.
There are very few moments when Clint sees Natalia without her daughter clinging to her like a small monkey. He can't say he blames her for not wanting to leave her daughter with anyone she doesn't know and fully trust. And he's sure that's a very short, almost non-existent list. Though there have been a few times when he's seen Laura entertaining the young girl whenever Natalia is speaking with Coulson and Fury.
Soon enough, they have a plan figured out, one that consists of just himself and Natalia entering Budapest to take down the Red Room at its roots. He hopes with everything he has within him that it will work.
When they're getting ready to leave, he can tell that the last thing Natalia wants to do is leave Anya for any significant length of time, but he knows that she knows Anya will be safer if she doesn't go with them. And despite being only ten months old, Anya doesn't put up much of a fight when Laura takes her so that he and Natalia can get on the plane. There is some whining, of course, but not much more than that. Laura manages to distract the infant fairly easily while he and Natalia board the jet.
Once he gets them up in the air, it's a long and quiet flight. He has to stay on the stick the entire time, and he's sure Natalia is focused on going over the plan as many times as is necessary, while also thinking about her daughter. He probably would be too if he was in her position. He goes over the plan in his head a few times himself during the flight, needing something to keep him focused. They need things to go perfectly.
When they land, Clint leads Natalia to one of S.H.I. .'s safehouses; a small two-bedroom apartment furnished with the bare essentials, but it'll work for the time being as a base of operations. They just need somewhere to rest while they figure out exactly where Dreykov is. He isn't sure how long it'll take to find the man, but Natalia has assured him that she has everything handled on that front. He trusts that she's telling the truth, if only because of the fact that she wants a better life for herself and her daughter.
Eventually, after several days and nights, Natalia manages to track down Dreykov, and then they're on their way to kill the man. And depending on how things go, they'll need to get out quickly once things are handled. And they might not be able to come back either. It's happened to him too many times to count over his career with S.H.I.E.L.D. and he wouldn't be surprised if he added one more to that ever growing list.
He follows Natalia's lead with this mission, knowing that she's the one who has the information they need to complete it. He plays his part perfectly, planting every single explosive device precisely where she tells him to, and then it's just a waiting game.
In the end, things go sideways. Because of course they do.
They kill Dreykov, but they have to hide away for a while until the heat surrounding things dies down. It's not easy, and he's maybe a little bit injured, but they have to do it. He can see how antsy Natalia is, probably to get back to Anya, though she's trying hard to hide it. He does his best to reassure her that they're going to get out, even if she doesn't seem to believe it.
"You gonna be okay?" he asks her after a long, quiet moment on the first day of hiding, gesturing to where he knows she has a few broken ribs. They'd majorly miscalculated when it came to the charges they set, which resulted in both of them getting caught in the blast radius, a rookie mistake. Meaning they ran like bats out of hell to escape the authorities as soon as they were conscious enough to do so.
Natalia glances down and then shrugs. "Had worse."
Clint nods. "Yeah, me too."
Silence encompasses them again, and Clint shifts, wincing when he jostles a couple of injuries. He could really use some pain meds, but that's not exactly an option at the moment.
"Uh, can I ask you something?"
Natalia eyes him. "Depends on question."
"How…who's Anya's dad? Because having kids doesn't seem like something they'd let you do at some secret assassin academy."
"Is not," she replies shortly. "Anya was experiment."
Clint's eyes go wide. "What?"
"I am best. They want to see if skills can pass through genetics but make better. Use my body to do it. Do not know man chosen as father."
Clint lets out a breath. "Damn. I'm uh, I don't really know what to say to that."
Natalia shrugs. "Is nothing to say. Is in past. Anya is here. I will not let her become like me. A killer."
"She won't," Clint insists, doing his best to reassure the woman. "She's not gonna have to grow up in that life, okay? She'll get to be a normal kid. Or, I guess, whatever constitutes normal in this line of work. But I promise you and Anya will be fine."
Natalia's quiet, merely nods her head and shifts, turning away from him slightly.
Clint sighs as he leans back against the nearest surface, wincing yet again when he jostles another injury. What he wouldn't give for some heavy, heavy drugs right about now.
After several days filled with mostly silence and the occasional odd question directed at Natalia—he manages to learn a few things about her—to keep the both of them conscious, they get out. The panic in the town has died down enough that they're not quite as on edge about being caught. They find out quickly enough that Dreykov's body had been found among the rubble and identified the same day of the explosion, along with his apparent right-hand woman. Which means it's over. It's done. Those people can't hurt Natalia anymore. Or Anya. Or any of the other girls he's heard are unwilling participants of the Red Room.
When they've finally crawled their way out of the subway vents and are in the quinjet on the way back to S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, Natalia right next to him in the co-pilot chair, Clint feels like he can finally breathe. It hurts like hell, of course, but it's finally done.
The flight back is quiet, just like the flight in was, but he can't really blame either of them. He's not exactly in a conversational mood at the moment now that everything has settled, and he's sure Natalia isn't either.
Once they arrive back at HQ, only Coulson is standing in the garage waiting for them when the ramp of the jet lowers.
The older agent cracks a small smile. "Glad to see you both back here in one piece. I take it things went according to plan?"
Clint shrugs. "More or less."
"Good. Now get yourselves to the med bay."
Clint waves him off, desperately trying to hide a wince. "Please, I'm fine. I'm right as rain."
Coulson fixes him with a glare. "Med bay. Now."
Clint sighs. "Fine. But I'm telling you I'm perfectly fine." He turns and begins making his way toward the med bay, trying to stand up as straight as possible despite the pain flooding through his body.
"Liar."
He whips his head quickly to the side, finding Natalia walking at his side but staring straight ahead. "Huh?"
"You are hurt and you lied," she says.
He breathes deeply and immediately regrets it, but tries his best to mask the pain. "Nah, I didn't really lie. Coulson knows that nine times out of ten I'm injured in someway on a mission."
"You will be punished for lying?"
Clint shakes his head. "Not about something like this. And I didn't lie, not really. Besides, I'm going to med bay anyways, so clearly, everything's fine." He offers her a smile as they reach the doors to the med bay. This time there aren't any agents lining the edges of the room when they enter, though there are a few people in the room who still eye Natalia warily.
He and Natalia are led to separate exam tables and he settles in easily, allowing the doctor to start their exam. He tunes out for most of it, having gone through this far too many times to actually need to pay attention to what's happening.
Thankfully, his injuries aren't as severe as they could have been, given everything that happened to him while in Budapest. He's no worse off than he is after any other mission gone wrong, so the patching up doesn't take nearly as long as it could. And at least his hearing aids are still intact this time.
Once his exam is finished, the doctor leaving him with strict instructions to take things easy even though everyone knows he isn't going to listen, he cautiously makes his way over to where Natalia is getting her exam done and hopes that none of the doctors have been threatened with bodily harm. So as soon as he steps around the partial curtain, he lets out a breath of relief when he sees Natalia sitting up on the bed in shorts and a sports bra, an ace bandage wrapped around her torso, just like he has around his.
"Everything good?" he asks, taking note of the few cuts and bruises littering her skin.
Natalia nods. "I am fine. You are fine too?"
He shrugs. "Relatively speaking." He grabs a nearby chair and pulls it closer, sitting down and letting out a heavy breath as he relaxes into it. "I've had much worse than this, though, so I'll be fine in a few days probably. Nothing I can't handle."
"Мама."
Clint looks over his shoulder and smiles when he sees Laura entering the space with Anya sitting on her hip, the ten-month-old wearing a big grin with her eyes fixed on Natalia. "Hey, Laur."
"Hey. You look like hell."
He chuckles. "Good to see you too. How was babysitting?"
"Oh, it was a breeze," Laura says with a smile. "Anya's a sweetheart and probably the chillest baby I've ever met. But I figured it was time to give her back to her mama now." Laura steps closer to the bed and carefully deposits Anya into Natalia's lap, smoothing a hand over the little girl's hair. "See you later, sweet pea."
"Anya, say goodbye," Natalia instructs her daughter.
Anya simply smiles and waves to Laura before shifting to lean heavily against Natalia's chest, turning her head inward.
"I'll see you around, Natalia. Please remember to come to me if you need anything at all, okay?"
Natalia nods silently, tucking Anya closer to her body.
"Oh, Laura," Clint calls out when he sees his friend starting to leave, "you still up for drinks this weekend?"
Laura lets out a breath. "Please. These new linguistics recruits are being pains in my ass. Let me know when and where and I'll meet you."
"Will do." He watches her leave for a moment and then turns back to Natalia's bed, his eyes going slightly wide when he sees Natalia nursing Anya. Instead of turning away, though, he merely sinks down in his chair and lets out a breath.
"You are not looking away."
Clint chuckles and shrugs. "It's natural, right?"
The edges of Natalia's lips quirk up but she doesn't say anything, simply turns her attention back to her nursing daughter.
Clint smiles to himself as he leans back a little further in his seat. Even if he's going to stay here while she nurses, he's still not going to look directly at her chest while it's half exposed. That wouldn't be right on so many levels.
Needless to say, but he's sure no one else has ever been witness to this, seeing the Black Widow smiling like she is. Let alone nursing her daughter that no one ever knew existed. Though that was probably by design. Having loved ones that are public knowledge is a huge risk in their line of work, probably more so when one of them is a deadly assassin who's no doubt made thousands of enemies.
Shifting in his seat, Clint glances around for a moment after not hearing much activity and realizes that they're alone now. He spots a couple of doctors in the far corner of the room, but that's it. Everything is still a little too loud for his liking, though, even though the only sounds are various machines in other parts of the room and Anya's suckling. But after everything he's been through, it's too much for him to deal with right now. So he turns his aids off. Instantly his head is thanking him. He's able to think, relax, and just…be there.
He ends up staring at the linoleum beneath his feet and zoning out completely. Dozens of random thoughts trail in and out of his mind; mission paperwork that he's definitely behind on, new trick arrow ideas that he should probably write down somewhere, how high he can climb in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s rafters while injured before Coulson has a heart attack. Just the usual stuff.
The next thing he knows, something is pushing against his knee. He looks up to see Natalia's foot extended across the bed toward him, a slight frown on her lips and her chest covered again by her bra. Her lips are moving, but he can't hear anything she's saying.
He quickly flicks his aids on and then shifts a little in his seat. "Sorry. What?"
"Mission is finished. What is next?"
His brows furrow slightly. "Oh, um, I'm not sure. I guess you might have to wait until your defection is finalized before you're really able to do anything." He rubs at the back of his neck. "I don't know what's gonna happen since I've never helped anyone defect before. So I guess we'll figure it out together."
Natalia nods once. "Want to keep Anya safe."
Clint almost reaches out to put a hand on her arm but thinks better of it at the last minute. Instead, he shifts so that he can look her in the eyes. "Hey, you're both going to be safe now, Natalia. Those people from before can't hurt you now. You're safe here."
"Natasha."
His brows furrow slightly. "What?"
"Is new name. Natalia is old name, is old life. Bad memories for Natalia. Not so many bad memories for Natasha. Want new name for new life."
Clint nods slowly, sensing there's more that she's not telling him, but choosing to let it go for now. "Okay. What about Anya?" he asks, glancing down at the sleeping child. "Is she going to get a new name too?"
"Nyet. She is small, no bad memories. Will still be Anya. Anya Romanoff. And I will be Natasha Romanoff. Is better. Similar but not same."
"Alright, then." The edges of his lips twitch as he tilts his head, letting the new name roll around in his head. "Natasha and Anya Romanoff it is. You're safe now, Natasha. You're gonna have a good life here. I promise."
A small hint of a smile appears on her lips. "Thank you, Clint."
Clint feels something fluttering in his stomach as he takes in the beautiful woman before him. He shifts closer to the edge of his seat and smiles back softly at her. "You're welcome, Natasha. And welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D."
So? What did you think? Let me know in a review down below. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
I sort of based the way Natasha talks off of a coworker of mine. This woman is quite a bit older, but still has a very, very heavy accent, and her grammar obviously isn't perfect.
I kind of tried to have Clint be a mix of his comic counterpart and his movie counterpart, though I've only ever seen screen grabs of Hawkeye in the comics. Hope I did it justice. :)
Until next time,
Jellybean96 out!