For the next year or so the farm was hardly spoken of between the two assassins. Occasionally if they were on a mission that brought them to some rural part of a county, Clint would comment on things that reminded him of the farm. He told her a couple stories about growing up there once. Just silly little things about playing with farm animals or helping his mother make cookies once. One of the few happy memories he had involving a parent.

For his Birthday, Natasha bought Clint a tiny bucket filled with toy plastic farm animals. On the anniversary of the day they first met, the day he saved her, Clint gave Natasha a stuffed black cat that looked eerily like Galina from the farm. Ok, so he also gave her a new gun, but surprisingly she found she was more pleased to receive the stuffed cat. On nights when the nightmares got worse than usual, nights she thought she would rather end her life than go through another second tortured by those dreams, she would find the stuffed toy and hold it tight against her. Almost always it helped chase the darkness away.

Things had been pretty boring honestly, since the last mission that landed them on the farm. Clint had been shot a couple times, Natasha had been stabbed and tortured and again shot, they had saved the world once or twice, and taken out a couple terrorist groups. Nothing all THAT interesting. Luckily nothing all that bad, that led to critical injuries they could not recover from.

Then it happened.

They were on a mission in CA, in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Some twisted mad genius had been trying to plant explosives in a dozen or so roads and overpasses being built in LA, strike team delta had been sent in to put an end to his fun.

They knew it was a risky mission, just based on the lack of information they had received. It was basically just, "This guy is blowing stuff up, he has enough explosives to destroy half a city. And we do not know where he is keeping them. Oh, and he might be a mad genius. Good luck!" Idiots.

Though honestly if you ignored the complete lack of information they had been given, this mission should have been easy. It was just a lunatic, in a house, filled with explosives. As far as they knew, he didn't even have anyone working for him. How difficult could it be, really? Clint had even joked that he should just drop Natasha off to handle the whole situation, so that he could go grab some in-and -out burgers for lunch.

It was decided that only one of them would go on- it was decided Hawkeye would go in. Natasha was somewhat of a better shot in close assasination situations, but only with a gun. And in this situation, if a bullet misfired, caused a spark, bounced against the wrong thing, the entire house could blow up. One of the side effects of not being sure where a few hundred pounds of explosives were hiding.

So, for once, their positions were reversed. Natasha was on the lookout, hiding out in the car, eyes glued to the house, a few hundred feet away. The house was in the middle of nowhere, and Natasha felt very vulnerable sitting in the car, with nothing to hide it. She was listening to her partner through the ear piece, waiting for something interesting to happen. Meanwhile Clint was inside, hoping to sneak in undetected, knock the suspect out with one of his "sleepy time arrows" and get this done with. That was the plan. Why does the plan almost never work out?

Bored, Natasha spoke into the mic connected to Barton's ear piece. "One civilian car just passed by, still nothing suspicious in the area. Just one bored Black Widow. Did you find him yet?" Clint's voice was hushed over the comm, "Nothing yet. Keep you updated." The house was not that large, they had been sure the man was home. It should not have taken this long for Clint to find him.

That should have been the first clue that something wasn't right. One minute Natasha couldn't hear anything over the comm, then the noises of a fight took over. Something breaking, punches landing, the sound of Barton drawing a new arrow into his bow. And then another. Natasha wanted to ask what was going on, but she knew how annoying, even life threatening that could be, Having someone yapping in your ear when you are fighting for your life. She would give it two minutes. If the fight was not over in two minutes, she would go in and handle this.

She started counting. And then heard Clint, "Oh crap, no!" Followed by the sound of breaking glass. Before she could ask what was happening, get out of the car to go help, an explosion rocked the car. When the Black Widow looked up, the house was practically falling apart, everything was on fire.

Natasha was out of the car in an instant, running towards the house, wondering why she had parked the damn car so far away. Wondering why the hell she had not insisted on going in with Barton, the idiot! She was yelling into the comm now, demanding Clint to tell where he was located, asking if he had been injured. She didn't get any answers.

The front of the house was utterly consumed by flames, Natasha felt the wave of heat rolling off it like a punch to the face. She would have to hope she could find a way to get to Clint from the back. But as she bolted around to the other side of the building, she saw someone on the ground, maybe ten feet from the burning house. Without taking another step she knew it was Clint. She felt an overwhelming wave of relief wash over her.

"Barton!" She cried out, running towards him. He wasn't moving, but when she reached him, Natasha was relived to see Clint's eyes flutter open. He had blood on his face, near his ears, cuts and scrapes were blossoming red all over his neck and scalp. But he was alive. "Barton, you need to get up, come on, we have to get out of here." Clint just stared at her dreamily, not answering, not reacting.

She pulled him up, forcing him to stand. "Can you walk? Barton, you have to walk now. Come on, hurry. We've got to get to the car now." She tugged his arm, and Clint stumbled, in a daze, but was able to follow his partner to the car. When they were almost there, a second louder explosion happened behind them, leaving Natasha's ears ringing painfully. When she looked behind her, there wasn't even a house anymore. Just wreckage falling from the sky.

"Shit Barton, we need to get out of here now. Go. Run." She guessed Clint was in shock, he didn't react when she said this, had to be pulled to move at a faster pace. That was fine, Natasha had seen people come out worse from a giant explosion. Soon they were in the car, and the Black Widow was driving as fast as she could. The house had been pretty isolated, but no doubt someone had reported the explosion. And the last thing the Black Widow felt like dealing with right now was talking to a bunch of police officers, explaining why she and Clint had been at the scene of the crime.

They drove for around fifteen minutes, Natasha intent on dodging traffic, pushing the speed limit, executing their getaway. Then she looked over at her partner, and realized something was wrong. Very much wrong. Clint was sitting in the chair next to her, eyes closed tight. He was rubbing furiously at his ears, and Natasha saw they were bleeding profusely. His ears, were bleeding. That could not be good.

"Clint? What's happening, I need you to talk to me. What happened? Are you ok?" The archer did not turn his head to look at her. She spoke again, louder. "Clint! What happened? Do we need to take you to a hospital?" He still didn't respond. She reached out and touched his arm. Clint jerked away, fear in his face, looking utterly surprised at her touch. "Clint, what's wrong?" She asked tensely.

Again, Clint did not answer. Instead he stared at her, saw her mouth moving in words. And realized he could not hear what his partner was saying. Natasha realized the same thing in that horrible moment. And she flipped open her phone.

"Coulson, Natasha. It's an emergency. We need a med unit to come for us immediately. Yes. It's Barton. Has a possible concussion, multiple cuts, and- something's wrong with his hearing. We need help as soon as possible."

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