He didn't return to the hotel that night.
Natasha briefly considered searching for him but decided against it. She thought it best to give him some space. Plus she needed time to herself to gather her thoughts.
She stayed up late, busying herself with trivial tasks, such as tidying up an already clean room. All the while she continuously checked her cell phone for any sort of communication from Clint.
At long last a phone call came, but she was met with surprise and disappointment at the caller ID displayed on the screen.
The screen showed Director Fury.
She answered. "Director."
"Agent Romanoff. How are you on this fine evening?"
Natasha drew in a breath. "Fine, sir. Is there a reason for this call?"
She heard him chuckle softly. "There is. Romanoff, I need you back at headquarters asap."
There was a short pause before she responded. "Sir, with all due respect, I... won't be coming back just yet."
"What?" Fury sounded incredilous. "Are you denying a direct order?"
Natasha leaned against the wall. "I suppose so. If it makes you feel better, consider this a temporary leave of absence."
Fury didn't respond immediatly. "I know I can't change your mind, but will you at least tell me the reason for this?"
Natasha sighed deeply. "It's personal."
"Personal?" She could almost see his eyebrows rise. "I get it. Do what you have to do, and do me a favor, will you?"
"What favor?" She asked.
"Give Barton my regards."
Natasha felt a lump form in her throat. "Will do."
He hung up.
Clint sat atop the roof of a run down apartment building, gazing up at the night sky.
He didn't want to fall asleep just yet, out of fear of having another nightmare.
A nightmare where he was onc again devoid of free will.
It was also thoughts of Natasha keeping him awake. He couldn't deny that she was the most important thing in his life, quite possibly the only reason he hadn't completely lost himself yet.
However, the descent into darkness had already begun, and it could not be stopped.
"Natasha..." he muttered before finally drifting into the abyss of sleep.
Natasha awoke to sunlight streaming through the window. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand beside the bed, the time being 10:00 a.m.
She groaned as she slid out of bed, exhausted from a fitful sleep. She rubbed the last of sleep from her eyes and set about getting dressed, putting on a red t-shirt and dark jeans. To top it off, she pulled on a black leather jacket.
Natasha checked her phone.
Nothing.
She shoved the phone into her back pocket and exited the room.
Natasha spent the rest of the morning and the majority of the afternoon searching the city for Clint.
Her efforts were to no avail, he search proving fruitless.
She eventually settled into a small café for a quick break. As she sat down with some coffee and a snack, she felt her phone vibrate. She pulled it out of her pocket and examined the screen.
It was a message from Clint.
She opened the text and read it.
I know you're looking for me.
Don't.
A second text followed a minute later:
Forget about me.
This is my burden to bare.
I'm sorry, and goodbye.
Natasha slammed the phone on the table, the force putting a crack in the screen.
He was really starting to piss her off.
No way in hell would she let him give up so easily. She got up and left the café, her resolve stronger than ever.