GASPING FOR AIR

By spockslovechild

…...

Chapter Seven – BEMUSED

Let it be known that Loki Laufeyson was far from stupid. He was the very opposite; intelligent, brave. Things that Clint Barton didn't take into account when he pulled the knife on him.

The silver blade imbedded itself in the wall as Loki dropped. And the scowl on Clint's mouth was less than completely unrecognizable. His aim was always true. Always damn near-perfect. Others could say he missed his mark on purpose but that would be a lie.

And to think, they had come here to stop a potential fight.

Natasha pushed herself between Tony and Steve and reached out for Clint's arm. She felt his muscle tense under her touch and she thought for a second she should step back. But quickly dismissed this thought. She was Black Widow, a trained assassin. She volunteered to kick Clint's ass when he was held under Loki's spell, and she did so willingly because he needed it so badly. And she'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Regardless, Steve saw this as just another time bomb waiting to go off. It was just a matter of time to him of when it did. Would he be there to pick up the pieces? He reached out for Natasha's shoulder only to have the trained assassin recoil from his touch.

Neither of them saw. They were too distracted. Loki had pushed himself up the wall and charged Clint Barton head on. Putting his head between Clint's solar plexus. They barreled backwards between Steve and Tony, brushing into the metal tray of supplies and spilling them over onto the floor, and crashed into the edge of the hospital bed then crumpled to the floor in a heap. And Natasha, pinned to the floor under Clint's body.

Loki seemed unfazed. Once he picked his head up, he balled his right hand into a fist and brought it down across the Archer's face. Clint's head snapped to one side. As Steve came forward to grip Loki's shoulders and pull him back, Clint raised his head again and head butted the demi-god square in the temple. This left the trickster momentarily stunned. Steve was able to drag the demi-god away from Clint but the Archer climbed to his knees and pushed himself to his feet then kicked out to catch Loki in the jaw. Natasha sat up though parts of her body ached. Clint was a lot heavier than he looked, and two grown ass men thrown on top of her was more than enough weight to break something. She was sure of it.

Loki struggled out of Steve's grip. It didn't take much. He dove for Clint and the two wrestled to the ground. Bruce hurried to Natasha and pulled her to her feet away from the pair. Thor and Tony jumped forward. The thunder god wrapped his arms tightly around his brother's shoulders and tugged him off of Clint while Tony grabbed the Archer by his shoulders and pulled him up from the floor.

Steve stepped between the fighting duo, who each struggled hard against those restraining them, keeping them from killing each other. "Knock it off. Both of you." He was not in the mood for this shit. His eyes lowered to the struggling younger man in Stark's arms. "You're just always looking for a damn fight aren't you? Just got to knock something down just because it's standing in your way."

Clint wrested himself away from Tony's grasp. "Screw this crap." He walked over to the wall with the knife protruding from it, wrapped his hand around the hilt and pulled the blade out of the wall. Clint slipped it back into his belt then pushed himself between the others on his way out the door. He didn't want to even think about it. Difficult enough with the bane of his existence still breathing. Loki pissed him off.

Once he gone, everyone was either looking at each other or at the two demi-gods. Loki's breathing hitched somewhere in his throat. He looked completely fine. Physically.

Bruce looked over Natasha's wrist. "It's not broken but it is sprained pretty good." He walked away from her and grabbed a small ice pack from a mini fridge in the corner. "Keep this on it." Bee lining back to her, Bruce pressed the ice pack to Natasha's wrist then looked casually over his left shoulder.

Loki met Bruce's eyes then looked to the one nursing a sprained wrist because of his tussle with Clint Barton. A guilty sort of feeling bubbled in his chest. What the hell was happening to him? Loki shook the thought from his brain.

Sympathy, for someone he shouldn't even give a rat's ass about. But he did. She was in his thoughts. Loki managed to draw her attention before her brows narrowed. He knew he hurt her, god damnit, and he was feeling bad about it too.

"Thor, get Loki out of here," Steve ordered.

Thor dragged an unwillingly trickster from the room.

Regardless of what was going on, Steve Rogers was no longer in a good mood. "Alright. The show's over. Everyone out."

"Aw, but Stevie-" Tony started protesting.

Steve rounded on the billionaire. "Shut up, Tony! We've already had enough happen today without your bullshit. Go play with your little toys." The look in his eyes was something none of the Avengers had seen before.

"Come on, Tony."

Bruce understood anger better than anyone. He recognized in Steve the same boiling fury he quite often felt in himself many times, and he knew better than to continue provoking a man already teetering on the edge. He latched onto Tony's arm and slowly coaxed the man from the room. To his credit, neither said anything to Steve.

Steve waited until they were gone before turning on Natasha. He was silent at first with one hand resting on the side of his hip with an unreadable expression on his face. She hated appearing weak. Even more so, she hated having the feeling of nothing she could do about it.

She looked up at him but neither of them said anything. Then Steve sighed, patted her right shoulder and walked out to leave her alone with her thoughts.

…...

Natasha didn't see Clint that night at dinner. So while everyone else assisted in cleaning up, she grabbed a plate of left overs and made for the gym where the Archer would undoubtedly be. And she found him as usual, standing in front of a punching bag swinging from a support beam, hands balled into fist that flew out in rapid succession. She couldn't tell how long he had been in here but it had to have been for a small while now. No one had seen him after he bolted from the Recovery Room. No one had gone after him either.

She found a small table not too far from him and put the plate of food there. It wasn't much but it was enough for a man with a healthy appetite. Natasha turned, focusing instead of the man swinging his fists at the bag, one after the other, as if he had something to prove. In his mind, he did. But he wouldn't have shared that with anyone. And Clint was far too wrapped up in what he was doing to notice that someone had been kind enough to bring him food. He didn't even pay attention to his growing stomach, or bother to acknowledge its meaning.

Natasha watched him go a few more rounds and hoped the smell of seasoned steak would lure him away from the swinging back but when it didn't, she decided to speak up. "I brought you dinner."

Another swing. "Not hungry." And another. Clint seemed so hell bent on beating down on the bag that he either didn't care she brought him food or didn't want to recognize his own hunger. His stomach was growling but his fists kept swinging. Beads of sweat had already collected on his brow. He breathed heavily.

Sighing, Natasha walked over to the bag and reached out to steady it. When it stopped swinging, the Archer glared at her. "You haven't eaten all day," she said. "And you've been pissed off for the better part of an hour. I think you can drop the ego for a few minutes to have a piece of steak." She pointed to the plate of steak and garlic potatoes. It had been Steve's idea, since he appointed himself in charge of the meal.

"Jesus Christ, Tasha. I'm not- " Clint continued pummeling his fists against the heavy punching bag until Natasha stepped up to its left and tossed her hands out to catch it mid-swing. "Fine." He shot her a brief glare then turned away from the punching bag.

The Archer unraveled the white wrappings from his hands and discarded them on a smaller bench. Then he bee lined to the table opposite him and grabbed a piece of steak. He didn't question who made it. And he'd never admit to her she was right. Clint was starving. He ripped off a smaller piece of steak and tossed it into his mouth.

That's when Natasha stepped away from the bag and opened her mouth. "How long should I expect you to continue being angry at me for?" Her arms crossed over her plump chest as she leaned against one of the pillars, pitting all her weight into her entire right side.

Clint blinked. "Tasha, I'm not…" Sighing, he dropped the piece of steak onto the plate. "What makes you think I'm angry with you? I could never be. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why were you avoiding me?"

"I wasn't avoiding you."

She countered, "Yes you were." Dropping her arms from her chest, Natasha leaned up and walked over to him. She lifted her hands to his jaw and titled his head until they were at eye level with each other. His face was red. "If this is about Loki- "

Clint raised his hands to hers and slowly dropped them from his face. "You were alone in there with him for a while. Who knows what else he could have done."

"But he didn't."

"He kissed you." He rounded.

Natasha smirked. "Yeah, you gonna do something about it?"

His response was easy enough; Clint grinned widely, then brought his lips down to take hers.

A/N: Whew! Sorry this took so long getting out. I was having a difficult time deciding what to write. I think the ending kind of blows. I know I could have done better, but I got nothing.

I'm sorry to say that the next chapter will be the last. So I wanna thank everyone who have read and reviewed this story up to this point. It's been great. If I can somehow reach eighty reviews before this story is completely done, I'll be impressed.