Clint stared at her in silence for a good two minutes until she started to get really uncomfortable with it. She moved her eyes from his down to his chest.

"What?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Natasha raised her head defiantly and said, "You heard me."

Clint staggered back a couple of steps until his back hit the wall. "Why me? What the hell does he want with me?" he muttered, more to himself than to her. Anyhow, Natasha shrugged and turned around. "That means we need to get you out of here." she said with a smirk. He laughed humorlessly.

He shook his head. "Of all the times you crack jokes, now is the best? And no. Absolutely not. I want to know what he wants with me. And that means I can talk to him. " Natasha laughed. "Don't be stupid, Barton. He'll just kill you. Let it go." she said moving forward to grab his hand and pull him towards the door. But Clint roughly pulled it out, shaking his head. "I have a plan. Just listen, okay?" he said, moving to sit on the couch. "You go back to your 'ex-apartment'." he said, making sure he kept his voice soft and controlled. Natasha kept her lips pursed, but her eyes told him that she was probably going to say no.

"Let me talk to Barnes. I'll figure something out- what he's trying, and why he's after you so badly. Then you can track me, and we can get a hold of him. We can get a lead, Tasha." he said, keeping his eyes trained on her. "You stay low for a couple of hours. If something goes wrong, you'll know. I'll call."

Natasha narrowed her eyes. No doubt, the idea of finally catching Barnes and throwing him into jail, or even better, killing him, appealed to her. But not with Clint. She couldn't risk losing her best friend, and her partner. He was her second half. And she couldn't bear to even see him get punched. She stayed silent for a few seconds while Clint just looked at her expectantly.

"No." she said, quietly. "No. I won't allow it, Clint. You can't just find Barnes. He's dangerous, and won't hesitate shooting you multiple times to find me."

Clint sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Then what do you suggest we do, Tasha? Do you have a better plan, because I sure as hell don't. Barnes is probably going to find one of us, very soon." he said, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees.

Natasha groaned, putting her head in her hands. "I hate feeling so helpless. How the fuck do we get this idiot?" she mumbled.

Clint stopped, suddenly. He looked around the room, something was different. The cupboard that had been closed just a minute ago, the cupboard he had taken his coffee mug out of was open. The room that had been shut for five months, Natasha's room, was wide open. It had been fucking locked. The picture of the two of them that had been hanging on the kitchen wall had been taken down. Natasha didn't notice, but he sensed something off in his apartment. He could almost feel another presence.

"Tasha-" Clint mumbled, looking around frantically, but Natasha was talking.

"Maybe we can try to shoot him, and get him into base. Fury'll be livid, so scratch that. We can do it alone. We'll bring him back here then. Then we can-"

"Natasha." he said quietly, turning to looking at her.

"-interrogate him, and probably kill him right? Definitely kill him." she said, and then stopped as she looked at his expression.

"Too late. He's already here." Clint said, standing up and walking to the door. "Sorry, Natasha. But you need to get the hell out of my house. And run. I'll deal with it from here." he said.

Natasha snorted and stood up. "No way in hell, Barton. We either find Barnes together, or not at all." she said, pulling her gun out of its holster on her waist.

Clint kept the door open, looking at her calmly. "You know how hard it is to capture the guy. He hides well. If he's looking for me, you know he won't come out till I'm alone. Without you. Let me just talk to him for five minutes." he whispered. He felt himself repeating the words she'd told him minutes back. Without you. It felt almost foreign on his tongue. Five minutes was all he needed to get Barnes off Natasha's back.

Natasha glared at him, and walked to the door, resigning. "I want you back, Clint. I need you back. He's a liar. Don't trust him. Be careful, I don't want you back in more than two pieces" she said with a small smile, taking his hand in hers. Clint grinned childishly. "I'll be fine. And yeah, same old, same old. I won't trust the bastard." he said with a small smile and pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

"I missed you, Tasha." he said quietly. She could barely hear it, and almost thought she'd imagined it, but when he moved back, he smiled. "A lot." Then he let go of her waist, and ushered her out of the door. "Go. Run." he mumbled, closing the door behind him, and turning around.

He'd met Bucky before, but only briefly. They'd gone to Chile, and Barnes had shown up, talking to her in fluent Russian. As usual, Clint could only pick up bits and pieces.

"Вернись, Наталья" Come back, Natalia, he had said, but she had simply snorted, and dodged his bullet to her leg. She ran after that, not stopping for miles. Clint had gone after her, but she refused to talk about it.

That night, he'd had to hold her down in bed while she cried and thrashed out. She'd had nightmares, but never so bad. But it was Natasha. And the next day, she hadn't said a word about it.

A few weeks later, he found her in the gym, beating the crap out of a punching bag. She looked like she was going to pass out. He had swiftly cut in, blocked a few of her punches until she'd collapsed. Before she slept that night, she'd told him who Barnes was. She'd said, "Don't trust him, Clint." she mumbled, laying down beside him. When he tried to ask her, he'd realized that she was already asleep.

The next day, she sat him down beside her, and told him. She told him everything. About the Red Room, about how Barnes had brainwashed her. How he'd never tried to kill her, but had wiped all her memories clean. And how he wanted her back. Because she was the best investigation they'd had. The best experiment. She had scoffed at that, and walked out. Clint had tried to go after her, but she was fast.

She came back the next day, and when he tried to confront her about it, all she had said was, "Not now, Clint."

So he dropped it. And didn't bring it up. And then she'd gone and fucking run away from him. For five months. He felt like an idiot for not talking to her about it earlier, but he knew that she wouldn't have talked anyway.

Clint waited for a couple of minutes behind the door, just leaning against it. Waiting. He focused on his own heartbeat, pumping against his chest, threatening to burst out. He needed to make sure Natasha left. He felt a sudden rush of wind as he saw a shadow emerge from the bedroom that Natasha owned.

"Clint Barton." a deep voice said as Bucky Barnes emerged from the room, a smirk plastered on his face.