Hey everyone! Warnings for referenced child sexual and physical abuse, flashbacks, panic attacks, self harm, injuries etc.
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They'd been running for a while before Natasha had to stop.
Her breathing was pained as she stumbled onto her knees.
Clint knelt, hand on her back. "Easy, Nat, nice and slow." He murmured.
He looked behind them and found no one there, so at least they had outrun whoever had followed.
Natasha gasped desperately, squeezing her eyes shut.
Clint didn't know if it was panic or the pneumonia that was causing the issues but they couldn't go back to the hospital.
He gently leaned her against the wall, placing her hand against his chest. "Nice and slow, Nat, you're okay." He murmured.
"Try and copy my breathing, hmm? In through your nose." He squeezed her shoulders, keeping her gaze as he deliberately inhaled and exhaled the way he needed her to.
Eventually, her breathing evened out and she could talk.
"Shit-" she croaked, shaking her head. "He found me. How did he find me?"
Clint sighed. "The paramedic, right? Bobbi. It had to have been her. The number she gave us was probably bullshit."
It wasn't her, but they had now way of knowing that.
Natasha seemed oddly calm now as she tenderly tilted his head to examine his nose.
"I dont think it's broken. Christ, Clint, you really went off on him." She sighed, trying to wipe at the drying blood under his nose.
"I'm sorry." Clint murmured, sincere in his apology.
"Don't be. He would've dragged me back if you hadn't." She sighed.
"Let's not think about it." He said quietly. "We're not far from the place the others are staying. We should go meet them. We're gonna need to find somewhere else."
"Shit. Yeah, you're right. God, I'm sorry." She mumbled.
"It is not your fault." Clint said firmly. "We've been there too long anyway, we needed to move soon."
Natasha didn't believe him but nodded anyway.
She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Fuck." Clint muttered, realising not only was she wearing only a hospital gown, but her feet were bare too.
"Here." Clint shrugged off his jumper and quickly wiggled it over her head, helping her get her arms in.
She winced and inhaled sharply as they got her arm through the hole and Clint gingerly used the phone as a light so he could see.
Her wrist was black and blue, mottled fingertip bruises creeping up her skin.
She pulled her hand to her chest. "It's fine. We have to go."
"Wait.'' He sighed, kneeling and pulling off his shoes, before helping Natasha slide her feet into them.
He had socks on, so at least this way, her feet wouldn't get any more torn up then they likely already were.
Clint wrapped his arm around Natasha's waist and they headed to their temporary home.
...
They were met with hushed voices, and very nearly got tackled to the floor.
"Jesus, Buck, get off me." Clint smacked his arm and the boy took a step back.
"Clint? What the fuck are you two doing here?"
Dawn was just breaking and as light filtered in through the window, the boys eyed their friends.
Clint shook his head, carefully leading a trembling Natasha over to the blankets.
After helping her sit down, Clint turned to the boys and gestured them over and away from Natasha.
"Her dad showed up." Clint murmured, wiping at his nose with a wince.
"Shit." Bruce cursed.
"Yeah, shit." Clint sighed. "He tried to grab her, make her come with him. There was...a fight."
"Tell me you kicked his ass." Tony growled.
Clint chuckled, but not out of humour. "You could say that."
He looked over at Natasha, pale and rocking herself in the corner.
"We have to move. In case he finds her again, she can't go back there." His gaze darkened.
"Of course not." Thor clapped his back.
"We can find somewhere else, easy." Steve nodded.
"Let's pack up, and get walking. I want as much distance as possible between us and that hospital." Clint headed over to Natasha.
"Nat?" Clint knelt, reaching to touch her cheek.
The redhead recoiled, gaze very much not present as she hunkered against the wall.
Shit.
"Nat, can you hear me? It's just me, it's Clint." He tried to get into her line of sight but her eyes passed through him.
"You're okay, he's not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you."
He winced as her nails drew blood, digging into the flesh of her arms.
Dammit, she'd been doing so well with the self harm lately too.
He didn't dare touch her to pull her hands from her skin.
Flashbacks utterly fucking sucked.
All he could do was talk to her, keep reiterating that no one was going to hurt her. That she wasn't there anymore. That she was okay.
He'd thought the worst had passed but then she started screaming.
Clint's eyes widened and their friends came running at the noise.
Natasha had her hands over her face and was half sobbing, half screaming into her palms.
"No! No, please, I don't want-" a choked, breathless sob, more scrambling to get back, but she was already at the wall.
"Please-" tears wet her cheeks as she kicked her legs out and hit at someone who wasn't there.
"No, no, daddy-" a horrible, keening wail.
The boys froze.
Only Clint and Bucky knew nearly everything that had happened to her.
But watching her, the other boys knew. They just knew.
Clint was close to tears as he tried to get her to come back to them.
In the end, despite her hitting and kicking, he touched her shoulder, gentle and warm.
And he stayed there for what felt like hours until the sobs died down and her gaze lifted.
"Clint?" She whispered, shaking all over.
"Tasha." He breathed, gathering her in his arms, kissing her hair. "I love you. You're okay." He murmured.
The other boys stepped back to finish gathering what meagre items they had.
Bucky came over, handing Natasha a pair of pants. "Here, Nat. They're gonna be a bit big but-"
"They're fine. Thanks, Buck." She said quietly, Clint helping her stand.
"Sorry, Barton, we don't have any other shoes."
Clint shrugged. "We'll get some from wherever we stay next."
"And where will we stay next?" Bucky asked, quiet.
"Somewhere far away." Clint replied. " Somewhere our pasts will stay our pasts."
If only that could be the case.