Hi guys, I'm so sorry that this took so long to upload! I had a writer's block, and I'm so sorry again that this chapter was so late. I made this one a bit longer as compensation. So now, enjoy the next, and final chapter of Red in My Ledger.
Clint drew his arm back for another arrow, when he paused and turned around. Natasha. From her position, she had probably been there for a while.
He scowled. "How long have you been here?" He sighed.
"Um, about an hour?" Natasha answered absentmindedly, as she twirled a small knife in her fingers.
"Okay….And what do you want?" He asked carefully.
"Oh, yeah, um," Natasha stuttered. Clint was shocked. Natasha was never nervous. Now he was scared.
"Yeah?" Clint pushed.
"I was thinking if you wanted to spar," She mumbled. Clint dropped his bow.
"Last time, it didn't end so well," He said quietly.
"Yeah, well we can have Coulson referee again this time, with tasers?" She said reluctantly. Despite the situation, Clint laughed.
"No way is he using tasers," Clint said firmly.
"Fine," She shrugged. "So yes?" She asked tentatively.
Clint studied his arrow silently.
"It's okay if you don't want to, it was just an idea," She said hastily. "Just an-"
"Why?" Clint interrupted. She looked startled.
"What?"
"Why do you want to do this? You know what happened last time and you still want to try it again. Why? People could get hurt, Coulson could get hurt, you could get hurt. And yet you still want to try. Why?" He asked softly. Natasha stiffened.
"Because I don't like to quit. I've been practicing,"
Clint looked up in surprise.
"I've been practicing trying to stay me, not the Widow. I thought this could be my first test. With you,"
Clint thought about it, then sighed. "Fine, just tell Phil to leave the tasers," He conceded.
"You want to do what?!" Coulson cried in shock. "You lost control last time, you both lost control. How do you know it won't happen this time?"
"Because she's been practicing," Clint said softly. Coulson quieted.
"Like you?"
"Yeah, like me,"
"Alright, no aiming to kill, no purposely maiming. Okay?" Phil asked unnecessarily. Clint nodded warily, shifting on his feet. Natasha unconsciously turned to match his movement.
"Okay, start,"
Clint was drenched in sweat trying to land a hit on Natasha. She flipped and dodged out of the way, but Clint was faster. He was always faster. He slid to the right, blocked her way and tackled her to the ground. She was trapped now, no more evasive techniques. Suddenly, he felt a need to step back. Why? He was winning. Why forfeit now? Something screamed danger, and reluctantly he stepped back and gave up his upper hand. Natasha was still on the floor, breathing heavily. She stilled, and looked up, the feral expression on her face slowly fading away.
"I'm sorry," She whispered.
"Let's take a break and we can try again if you feel up to it," Coulson nodded at Natasha.
"Clint, a word please," He beckoned.
Clint walked over to the wall where Phil stood. Natasha took a long drink from her water bottle.
"What?" Clint asked distractedly.
"About Natasha, how did you know to step back? You couldn't have known," Phil asked curiously.
"I….I don't know, I just did. Self preservation, you know?" Clint shrugged.
"Self preservation?" Phil asked quickly.
Clint stared. "You know, she would kill me if she wasn't in control," He said matter of factually.
"How do you know this?" Phil asked uneasily.
Clint laughed darkly. "Because I feel the same way, but I can control it," He said. Then he walked away.
The second round started, and Clint could feel Phil's eyes on him, watching his every move. He was worried. Who wouldn't be? Phil already knew he had problems. He already knew he was messed up. Phil didn't know Clint's secrets because Clint spilled them out all at once. Each time he found out, he helped Clint get over it. This was one of those times. And Clint knew Phil would get him through it.
His face suddenly got better acquainted with the ground.
"Don't get distracted," A voice breathed in his ear. He grunted and flipped Natasha off his back. She darted back and Clint advanced. The doors slid open. Clint cocked his head. Natasha hit him in the stomach. Someone was coming into the training room. Natasha tackled him and drove him to the floor. Huh. What was Maria Hill doing here? Natasha wrapped her arms around his neck, slowly tightening. Phil looked up and signaled to Clint the match was over. Phil had to go. Clint grunted and hit the ground three times. I surrender.
Something was wrong. Wasn't the choke hold supposed to start loosening, not tightening? He tried to gasp in a breath. Black spots danced in his vision. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move. The darkness was closing in. He tried to draw in another breath. He coughed, letting out the rest of the air left in his lung. Then everything went black.
"Clint? Wake up buddy," Someone called. Clint groaned. Leave me alone. I wanna sleep.
"Come on, you have to wake up," A bright light shined into his eyelids. Clint sighed and opened his eyes.
"Jeez, Phil. Put the flashlight away. What do you even need a flashlight for?" He rasped. He winced at his voice. He coughed a couple times, trying to clear his throat. Ouch. He looked around his surroundings. Still in the training room. Not the infirmary. Good.
"Water?" Phil shoved a bottle in his face. Clint took a sip, trying to sooth his sore throat.
"Yeah. Hey, where's Natasha?" Clint asked warily.
"She's gone. She left after you passed out." Phil said slowly. "We don't know where she is. Everyone's on edge. They think she's going to jump out of the shadows and start killing people,"
Clint chuckled, and immediately regretted it. Ouch. He sat up and waited for the head rush to clear. He stood up.
"Hey, where are you going?" Phil tried to push Clint back down. Clint pushed back.
"To find Natasha,"
Clint climbed up silently into the rafters and pulled himself up. He quietly waited, a lean dark figure standing frozen in the shadows. It was silent and dark. A lone figure sat on a metal beam, slowly swinging her feet, her red hair curling around her back.
"Don't," She said quietly. "Don't come near me,"
Clint stood still, frozen, waiting. Then he took a step forward, foot landing silently on the metal bar. Then another. Until he was standing right next to Natasha. He slowly sat down, fingers brushing against her's.
"Leave me alone. I'm a monster," She whispered. Clint stared at her.
"You think you're the only one?" Clint asked. She slowly lifted her eyes to his.
"A leopard can't change it's spots," She said quietly.
"Only if you are one," He said firmly.
The days went by, and Natasha began to accept she wasn't a monster. Clint sparred with her everyday, Phil refereeing. Weeks went by with no incident, and the other agents of SHIELD began to accept Natasha as well.
Natasha laughed as she slammed Clint into the floor.
"I never should've taught you that move," Clint grumbled, his voice muffled due to the fact his face was pressed into the training mat."
"All your fault," Phil chuckled from the side lines. Clint lifted his head and scowled at Phil. Phil shrugged. Natasha rolled her eyes as she held out a hand to Clint who was still on the floor. Clint reluctantly grasped the arm, then yanked her down into the mat with him. The sparring resumed with full force, and Phil watched amused, contemplating getting a bowl of popcorn.
It was dark and quiet. But it was warm. Natasha leaned against Clint, her heat cancelling out the cold of the metal beneath them.
"Thank you, by the way," Natasha murmured.
Clint lifted his head in confusion. "For what?" He asked.
"For uniting me," She said quietly. "Before I met you, I was detached. Anything the Black Widow did, I didn't care because it wasn't me. But I would always feel guilty. I had no control, because I thought I couldn't. You showed me that the Widow and I are one. And I'm in charge." She smiled.
"You're welcome," Clint whispered as he tilted his head against the metal bar. They settled into a comfortable silence. The Widow and I are one.
The Widow….and I….are one.
The...Widow and I…...are one.
Hawkeye….and I are….one.
"Hawkeye...and I...are one," He whispered. Clint smiled. He liked how it sounded. He looked down at the red haired figure curled up next to him. Maybe it was time to accept the impossible.
Okay people, what do you think? I just finished my first story, and I'm going to need prompts for my next one! Please leave a review with a prompt so I can look through them and maybe turn them into my next story! Thanks for reading!
MilkyWay out