Clint was getting better.
The other Avengers had a hard time believing it considering Clint made himself exceptionally scarce for almost two weeks after the 'arrow to the knee' incident, but Natasha knew better. Clint liked to sort things out on his own. The stubborn idiot had an independent streak a mile wide, and his preferred method of recovering was going off alone to lick his wounds.
There were probably healthier ways to cope, but who was Natasha to judge considering her own coping methods were just as questionable.
And in this case, it made sense for him to be alone. Clint told Natasha before disappearing that he thought it would be easier judging what was and wasn't real if there wasn't anybody else around. It was surprisingly sound and convenient logic, Natasha thought wryly. A reasonable enough request, and she trusted him to seek her out if he needed someone.
It helped that Clint left little clues around the Tower reassuring them he was still nearby. The more obvious were the sticky notes Clint left in places he knew she would find them. Sticky notes on her mirror reminding her to floss, on the punching bag in the gym saying 'punch here', and a couple scrunched up in the toes of her shoes that didn't say anything at all. The sticky notes ended when Natasha opened her freezer to find a sticky note saying 'IOU' on an empty carton of her favorite ice cream, and she responded by pinning a sticky note saying 'pay up now' to his door with a knife.
The clues became more subtle at that point. Steve wandered around the common areas in confusion for an entire afternoon while looking for his sweatshirt only for it to appear on the floor of his room later, looking dustier than he remembered. Thor and Bruce reported hearing strange noises coming from the ceiling and weird glitches where the television would switch from whatever they were watching to random dinosaur movies.
The first real indicator that Clint was getting better, though, was when a disheveled Tony stormed into the kitchen carrying an empty coffee pot, yelling, "Where the hell is, Barton?"
Steve looked up from his paper, taken aback by the murderous look on Tony's face. "Everything okay, Tony?"
"No, it's not. Do you know how many times over the last few weeks I'd brew a pot of coffee and come back later to find it lower than I left it? I thought I was going crazy when I'd start a pot, and come back after five minutes to find it empty. It turns out Barton-" Tony shook the empty pot for emphasis, "-has been thieving coffee from me."
"Couldn't you make a new pot of coffee?" Steve asked pragmatically.
"I did. I stood by the coffee pot the entire time, and emptied it all into a thermos. I get back to my desk, pour myself a cup, and you know what I realize when I take a drink?" Tony asked. "The bastard had switched the beans to decaf before sneaking away! And JARVIS won't tell me where he is."
"What's wrong with decaf?" Bruce asked. "They taste the same, don't they?"
The ensuing ten-minute rant, which ended with Tony leaving in an affronted state to chase down Clint, left Natasha in a good mood. If the soft chuckling from the vents was any sign, it left Clint in a good mood, too.
But the day that Natasha knew without a doubt that Clint was improving, the day she knew he was finally done moping, was when she walked into the common room kitchen one evening to find him making carnival food.
A large bowl of caramel corn and candied nuts was already on the counter, a sizeable chunk missing from one side where Thor was helping himself to large handfuls. His attention was raptly focused on Clint who was regaling him with trapeze stories as he mixed batter together, pausing every now and then to expertly toss a piece of popcorn into his mouth.
Clint smiled when he caught sight of Natasha.
"Just in time, Nat," Clint said as he poured the batter through a funnel into a hot pan of oil. "Your funnel cake is almost ready."
"You didn't tell me you were making funnel cakes," Natasha said. She took a seat next to Thor and pulled the popcorn toward her.
"I figured the smell would lure you down to the kitchen," Clint replied. "Did it work?"
"Thor had JARVIS alert everyone there was food in the kitchen."
Clint shot Thor an affronted look. Thor simply shrugged and tossed a piece of popcorn at Clint that Clint caught in his mouth. "You said it was a dish traditionally served at fairs. In Asgard, fairs are a time for people to gather, share food and drink, and make merry. It seemed only fitting that the others join us."
"But the first funnel cake is mine," Natasha clarified.
"The Nat-mare always goes first," Clint said, pulling the funnel cake out of the oil and setting it on a plate. He piled it high with chocolate syrup, hot fudge, cherries, sprinkles, ice cream, whipped cream, and a thick layering of powdered sugar before pushing the plate into Natasha's eagerly awaiting hands. "Seriously, Nat. You can't even taste it under all the toppings."
"That's why you always make me two." Natasha smiled sweetly and took a large bite of the funnel cake, savoring the flavor. She loaded up a forkful and held it out Clint. "You can't deny, it is delicious."
Clint grinned and accepted the bite.
"It's a frighteningly delicious monstrosity," Clint said between chews. Another funnel cake covered in powdered sugar slid across the counter and stopped neatly in front of Thor. "You've got to try the original before you get to customize."
Thor ripped off a large chunk of the hot dough with his fingers and shoved it in his mouth. His face lit up, powdered sugar sprinkling his beard as he took another large bite and proclaimed, "This is delicious!"
"What's delicious?" Tony asked as he and Bruce rounded the corner into the kitchen.
Bruce's eyes brightened when they landed on the fried dough, and he eagerly took a seat next to Natasha. "Are those elephant ears?"
"Funnel cakes," Clint said. He finished preparing another one and stuck it on the table between him and Natasha. "You can have the next one."
"That must make this one mine." Tony's hand reached out for the funnel cake only to be slapped away in warning by Natasha's fork.
"This one's mine," Natasha said.
"But you already have one!"
"And now I have two." Natasha pointedly took a bite of the new funnel cake. She gave him a small smirk as Clint laughed and tore off a piece of her funnel cake, popping it in his own mouth with a smug look.
"Why does he get to eat it?" Tony asked, shaking his hand out and pointing at Clint.
"Because she likes me more than you," Clint replied. "You can have the one after Bruce."
"That's not fair, it's my kitchen."
"Well, if you kick me out now, you don't get any." Clint stared and took another large bite out of Natasha's funnel cake. "Patience is a virtue."
"This coming from the man who gets antsy waiting on the toaster."
"I didn't say it was one of my virtues." A fresh funnel cake slid down the counter and landed in front of Bruce. Clint started on the next one as Steve entered the room. He perked up, a sly grin on his face as he looked from Tony to Steve. "Hey Steve! You want a funnel cake? This one's all yours."
"Come on! Are you serious?!"
"Am I missing something?" Steve asked, taking a seat at the counter.
"Nah. Tony's just being dramatic," Clint said while Tony yanked the popcorn bowl toward himself. "You probably went to Coney Island as a kid, am I right, Cap?"
"When we could afford it."
"The carnie who worked concessions for Carson's used to make them at Coney Island. He never told anybody why he left and joined a traveling circus, but rumor had it he killed a clown over a rigged game of sheepshead." Clint shrugged and plated the fried dough, dousing it with powdered sugar. "That's beside the point, dude was a nice enough old geezer and he taught us how to make funnel cakes in exchange for distracting health inspectors. This recipe is the same one they used at Coney."
The plate stopped in front of Steve, and Clint waited expectantly. Steve looked torn between asking for clarification on Clint's story and trying to forget the details. Apparently deciding he didn't want the headache, Steve opted to just eat the funnel cake. His face lit up at the first taste, chewing slowly to savor the flavor. Natasha would have to tease him later about how his eyes got misty with nostalgia.
"This tastes exactly how I remember it," Steve said with a slow smile.
"That's because it's the same recipe. Weren't you listening to anything I said?" Clint snarked.
"It's probably for the best if he didn't," Tony said. "I think it would be an affront to his moral sensibilities."
Clint snickered and finally slid a funnel cake in front of Tony who looked at it with delight.
"Ignoring that. Now that your arm is healed up, Clint, I've been meaning to ask you if you wanted to join us for training." Steve shifted in his chair, trying to hide nervousness with earnestness. "You've trained with Natasha, but the rest of us haven't had much of a chance to train as a group before this and I figured it would be good practicing with different fighting styles."
"I'm still a bit rusty, but sure," Clint said. He wiped his hands off on a towel. "I'm game."
"Excellent! Team practice tomorrow then."
"Good because after all of this, the only thing I plan on doing today is napping," Clint said.
"Games first," Natasha insisted. "It's been a while since I've crushed you in Monopoly."
"Monopoly is too intense, and you always get the dark blues," Clint whined. His eyes twinkled and he shared a mischievous grin with Natasha. "We've got even numbers. How about we teach them to play team UNO?"
Team Uno, as Clint well knew, had led to far more shouting matches and death threats than Monopoly ever had on the Helicarrier. One of Natasha's fondest memories was when Clint had somehow convinced Coulson and Sitwell to play with them. It was where Natasha learned that Coulson's calm demeanor could be shattered, and it only took Clint making him draw at least fifteen cards before going out and ending the game. Not only did Natasha learn some colorful threats, she had the pleasure of watching Coulson chase a cackling Clint around the table.
"I don't think they're going to want to play a kid's game," Natasha said, faking reluctance. She stood up and moved around the table, filling a glass with water before leaning on the counter next to Clint. "It's not as exciting."
"I like UNO," Bruce said, perking up. "My cousins and I used to play it all the time as kids."
"I too am familiar with this game," Thor said. "Darcy, Jane, and myself used to play it often."
"Then it's settled," Clint said. "Food then UNO."
Clint's arm wrapped around Natasha's back, his hand squeezing her shoulder before going back to what he was doing. His elbow bumped against hers as he talked in a comforting, grounding way. The little touches his own way of saying 'sorry' and 'I'm here' in a more reassuring way than words could have.
Natasha rested a hand between his shoulder blades, barely enough pressure for him to feel it through his shirt, then stepped away to give him space. Her own version of forgiveness.
She saw Clint's eyes flick behind the group for no more than a second before returning to Tony's face. He smiled like nothing had happened and flicked powdered sugar into the man's hair.
He was better, Natasha decided, grabbing a bottle of chocolate sauce and planning her attack.
Clint was going to be fine.