Ch 3.

As Clint made his way to the closet to find a blanket, he realized that once again, Nat had his back. The bed faced the door, but had no view of the window. Even if she wasn't here, he would have chosen to sleep on the couch for the angle it afforded. On missions, she was always willing to give him the best surveillance spot, even if that meant she was at a disadvantage. It was just one of the many ways their partnership worked so well.

"Clint?"

He knew, without needing to turn around, that Natasha was right behind him. The tone in her voice was one that he rarely heard; it was vulnerable, a little shaky, even a bit nervous. It was a tone he only heard when they were alone, when she needed something, but couldn't put words to it. He hated to say it, but he actually looked forward to hearing that voice.

Turning, he silently wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her body gently against his. In response, he felt her relax into his chest, tucking her head under his chin. These were the moments he lived for, in a twisted way. When it all became too much for her and she just needed to be human for a minute. When she let down a few of her walls and allowed her emotions to show through. Each time, Clint considered kissing her. Sometimes, he pictured gently lifting her chin and placing a light kiss on her lips. Other times he imagined putting all his pent up passion and frustration into one deep, unforgettable kiss. But, like tonight, he couldn't bring himself to take that leap.

It wasn't that he wasn't brave enough. It would be easy to give in to what he wanted, far easier than stopping himself. But Nat wasn't just a beautiful woman; she was also the Black Widow. Taken as a child, trained as a Russian Spy; her life didn't include fairy tales and happy endings. She never talked about it, but he knew that part of her training included the art of seduction. He was sure that it wasn't a pleasant way to grow up. To her, physical intimacy was a means to an end.

In fact, this simple act of being held was about as intimate as she could get. Letting down her guard for a few minutes and accepting comfort was her way of saying how important he was to her. Clint knew that she needed to set the boundaries between them. To push her beyond what she could handle would make him just like every other man she had ever known. So, as easy as it would be to throw caution to the wind, he forced himself to stay in check.

Placing a quick kiss on top of her head was the compromise he always gave himself.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, as he always did in these moments. Sometimes she did, but it was the exception to the rule.

"Not now. Do you?" She replied without looking up. The regular rhythm of Clint's heartbeat gave her an anchor, helped her own pulse stop racing.

"Eventually. But I feel like I haven't quite wrapped my head around it yet."

She nodded against his chest. That was certainly true, for him even more than her. Hell, she'd spent years trying to get her head straight after leaving Russia for SHIELD. Clint had a lot of baggage to wade through on this one.

It was hard to say how long they stood there, just holding each other, but neither were willing to pull away first. It wasn't until the rest of the team returned, laughing and talking as they figured out which room belonged to who, that Clint and Natasha separated. It was a few minutes before the final door shut and silence once again filled the room, but it was enough for the moment to end. Clint grabbed a blanket and made himself comfortable on the couch, not an easy task when every part of his body seemed to protest movement of any kind. Natasha climbed into the bed, curled up, and fell asleep within moments.

Exhaustion slowly swept over Clint as he lay in the dark. As his eyes closed, he thought that perhaps he would get a full night's sleep after all.

He saw her, but she didn't know he was there. It was the opportunity he'd been waiting for- the spider was out of her web and in the open. Without hesitating, he sent an arrow through her hand, pinning it to the wall. A second arrow through the other arm kept her in place while he approached. She was crying, he could see when he grew close. She was hoping to play to his pity. But he felt none; there was no place for emotion here.

It needed to be slow. He had a plan to ensure that she wouldn't die until he was finished with her. A knife would make things last longer. The blade was soon covered in her blood, her pleading voice barely noticeable as he worked.

"Clint, please- it's Nat- please-"

"Clint! It's Nat, wake up!" She called softly, trying to coax him out of the nightmare. Usually their roles were reversed, but Natasha hadn't managed more than a light slumber with Thor snoring in the next room. In a way, she was grateful- her nightmares couldn't grip her like they normally did. And when Clint began muttering her name as he slept, she was thankful once again to Thor, as she could be there to wake her partner.

Clint woke slowly, visibly shaking from the intensity of his dream. Natasha helped him sit up, his ribs protesting as he leaned his head into his hands, trying to hold himself together. In all his years as an assassin, he had never seen or done anything that disturbed him as much as this dream. He knew she was sitting by his side, a hand on his shoulder to give him comfort, and it made him sick.

"Nat-" even his voice shook, "I... it wasn't even a dream. It was the plan I had. How I was going to kill you when..." He shuddered, not lifting his head, unable to look at her. Maybe he had been under Loki's control, but the plan was his. The torture, the meticulous exploitation of everything he knew she feared- that was him. Loki didn't put that plan in his head- he just said to kill her when the time came. Clint did the rest.

"Clint, I need you to look at me." Natasha waited, trying to use some of the patience that came so naturally to her partner. But when he pressed his eyes tighter against his hands, she switched to the tactic that came naturally to her.

"Dammit Clint, look at me!" She was satisfied to see that this startled him into a response, his face lifting in surprise.

"You aren't that person. The Clint that planned to kill me had no conscience- there was no right or wrong, just the mission. That isn't you and you know it. You can't put those things on yourself- believe me, it doesn't end well. I still trust you, do you hear me?"

He nodded. He heard her, that wasn't the problem. No amount of logic or understanding could make this better. The feeling of satisfaction when he sent that arrow through her was lingering. Even if Natasha trusted him, he couldn't quite trust himself. Unable to sit still, Clint got up and began to pace. Natasha stayed where she was, waiting for whatever it was that he had to get off his chest. It only took a few laps before the words started spilling out of him, anguish on his face.

"I feel like... I'm not sure I can describe it. I know this is my mind and my body, but Loki took them from me so quickly. For all my training, all the ways I know to keep myself safe, I was powerless to stop him. The entire time I was aware- I knew what he was doing and the part I was playing, but I was split within my own mind. Every emotion, all my individuality and personality, everything that makes me who I am was locked away. Not just locked away... I was lost in my own mind. I was surrounded by all my greatest fears and weaknesses. I relived every terrible memory I have, saw everyone I care about die at my hands. While the rest of me- the mindless soldier, Loki's plaything, betrayed my deepest secrets. I turned on myself, telling Loki how to hurt the people closest to me. Strategizing how to make those fears a reality. I wasn't a robot, doing as I was told; it was so much worse than that. All Loki had to do was pit me against myself. How can I trust myself now? How do I know if my thoughts and actions are my own? It's maddening..."

Clint finally stopped, seeming far more exhausted now than he had earlier. He leaned against the arm of the couch, running a hand through his short hair and breathing fast. It occurred to Natasha that he was fighting back tears. That, more than anything, told her how deep this hurt went. Clint wasn't the crying type- not because he thought it wasn't masculine or was a sign of weakness. It was because he could distance himself from any situation, stick to the job at hand, and get past it. But this was beyond his ability to back away; it was within his own mind.

She got up slowly, making her movements as nonthreatening as possible. Approaching his side, Natasha tried to think of something to say. But really, what could words do for Clint now? Instead, leaning on the couch next to him, she slipped her hand into his. She had never told him, but she loved his hands. The callouses over the fingers from a lifetime of archery, the strength in each finger.

Slowly his breathing evened out as he regained control. Nat had that effect on him- he was always more focused when she was close. The images began to fade, replaced with the sight of her doing her best to comfort him. He was more grateful than he could ever say that she didn't hit the ground running when he told her that she was the star performer in his nightmare.

"Listen, Nat, you don't have to stay. I mean, I wouldn't blame you if you don't want to be in the same room as me while I'm sleeping, just in case." He tried to sound convincing, like it really didn't matter, while keeping his eyes from her so she couldn't see the truth there. The fear of being alone, of being without her, was something he wanted to keep to himself.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, "Yeah, right. Very tempting, but you couldn't get the jump on me fully conscious and armed, let alone while sleepwalking. I'll take my chances, thanks."

Clint realized he was smiling. For all her blunt, scathing, and sassy comments, he couldn't think of anyone else he'd want here with him. When she stood up to walk back to the bed without releasing his hand, he hesitated. Suddenly his mind was racing again, but with much more pleasant images of Nat.

"What? We won't both fit on the couch, so you can forget about having an ideal vantage point tonight. I need to get a few hours of sleep and it isn't going to happen if you aren't with me. You okay with that?"

Rather than answer, Clint obediently followed Natasha to the bed, climbing up next to her and getting comfortable. Once he was settled she turned to him and placed a soft kiss to his forehead before curling against his side under the covers. To Clint, it was almost as good as sex. Almost.

When Natasha woke up, she knew exactly where she was. Clint's strong body was melted against hers, his deep breathing ruffling her hair and tickling the back of her neck. His arm lined up perfectly with her own, his fingers intertwined with hers. The Black Widow was spooning. There's a first time for everything, she thought happily.

"Any nightmares Nat?" He asked, his voice gruff from sleep. So he was awake after all.

"None. I'd call it a first," she replied, sliding her fingers along his own, tracing the lines and scars gently. Suddenly she noticed the clock, flashing 7:06am, and sat bolt upright. "Shit! Do you know what time it is? We slept for almost 6 hours! We need to-"

"Need to what, Nat?" Clint asked, laughing. "We don't exactly have a mission and I probably shouldn't be training for a few days. Fury wants to see us at 10, Thor and Loki blast off at noon, but otherwise we have the day to ourselves."

Natasha relaxed back into the covers, turning onto her side to face Clint. He looked well rested, happy even, lying a few inches away. This was a situation she hadn't prepared herself for- usually they only shared a bed when their cover was as a couple.

"You know, we still have a few hours," Clint murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I have a pretty good idea of how we could spend it."

For the life of her, Natasha couldn't figure out what that glint in his eye could mean.

Bahaha! I am addicted to these two. But not to worry, the rest of the gang will get their appearance soon enough. Thanks for all the comments, they really add fuel to the fire!

Stay tuned to read all the sticky details about what these two do with their free time!