Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers :(

A/N: Warning, this is a seriously angsty chapter. I have no idea what happened. I was listening to a song, and then when I started writing this happened. I don't particularly like writing an upset Clint, because I don't feel like he'd be an overly emotional person, but Clint behaves how he wants to behave, and he was really fighting me in this chapter! Please Review! Oh – and translations will be at the bottom, I know it's annoying but the language change was necessary. This is probably going to be the last update for a while as well. I have so many exams coming up and I really want to revise for them so I don't really have much time for this at the moment... sorry!

Chapter 8 – Ohne Dich – without you.

Clint sighed and dangled his legs over the edge of the roof. He could sense Natasha walking up behind him but he wasn't really in the mood to talk. He'd almost had another relapse, within mere hours of leaving SHIELD medical. Perhaps it was safer for him to go back. He looked at his partner with a blank expression on his face as she slumped down next to him, dangling her legs in a similar fashion to his own.

"Clint," she greeted, almost brusquely.

"Tasha," he breathed out, looking away from her and into the distance.

The Russian was worried that her partner was up here, not that she'd admit it of course. She always panicked slightly when he sat up on the roof because it was a sign that he was unhappy or worried and she hated it when he was unhappy. She wanted to talk to him, to actually talk – not just converse for the sake of it. This moment had cropped up between them many times over the years, this pivotal moment, where they were on the verge of completely opening up to each other. Every single time they failed, they clammed up, they retreated. Not this time.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

The archer sighed and stared up at the stars. He wanted to go on a mission, hell he would settle for some freaking paperwork right now, he just needed to distract himself from all the sitting around he'd been doing lately. The assassin could feel the Russian waiting for his answer, but he honestly had nothing to say to her. He wasn't in the mood for joking around, but he didn't want to start another heavy conversation. There was only so much his partner could take, and he could tell she was struggling to put up with his moping. Perhaps he should just be honest with her. But then, what was the truth behind his sour mood?

He turned to face her and shrugged, giving her a lopsided smile. She scrutinised him for a short while with narrowed eyes but soon gave up, releasing him from her gaze. Clint smiled wryly as she scooted closer to him, so their shoulders were touching. He liked how they could sit in a companionable silence, with no need for words to be shared.

He hated how she pushed him away though. Time after time he tried to get closer to her, to understand her better, but every time she would shove him away, the tall walls around her ascending at double the rate they had previously descended at. He thought back to the conversation they'd had just hours earlier, when he'd been so near to the edge. He had been millimetres away from giving in to it – to Loki - but Natasha had grounded him.

Her scent, her smile, her voice. He had recalled them all as he had stared at her, desperately clawing himself back to her. He had thought about how silky her hair would be if he were to reach out and touch it. He had thought about how smooth her skin would be if he were to reach out and stroke her cheek. He had thought about how soft her lips would be if he were to kiss her, and how sharp the inevitable slap would be that would undoubtedly follow. All those thoughts were the things that had pulled him back. She had pulled him back.

The archer sighed. That's what he loved the most about their partnership. No matter what shit they went through, or what harrowing circumstances they endured, they were always there for each other. In a way, Clint felt closer to Natasha than any other person that had ever been in his life. He felt as if he could tell her anything – however at the same time, he never feels lonelier than when he's with her, because she never lets him in. To Clint, being next to Natasha Romanoff was by far the loneliest place in the world.

Closing his eyes, he tilted his face up to the sky and felt the icy cool breeze ruffle his hair gently. He knew Natasha was watching him; she tended to do that a lot when she thought he wouldn't notice.

It was then that he thought of something to say, a way of putting his feelings into words.

*"Ohne dich kann ich nicht sein," he whispered, keeping his gaze on the floor. The words were spoken so softly that Natasha was sure she had imagined them. Her heart clenched as she processed his words, and she felt the sharp pain return to her chest. She fought hard to keep her hands on her lap, resisting the temptation to clutch at the pain in an attempt to relieve it. Clint turned his face up to look at her, his eyes gleaming with emotion.

If those words had been spoken to anyone else, they would have been utterly insignificant. However, those words, those seemingly ordinary German words, meant a great deal to the two agents. Many years ago, they had just finished a mission in Berlin, and Fury had given them a day to enjoy the city. After looking through the markets and doing general tourist-like activities, they had crashed a concert of an infamous band that had been the talk of townspeople.

They had gone to see the popular German band perform, and as they were sitting from up high on a hill, looking on at the festival, one song in particular had stuck out to them. Over the years, they would sing it on occasion. Like when they were doing paper work. They would even reference it from time to time. To Clint, it seemed apt to use this song to explain himself.

*"Aber, mit dir bin ich auch allein," he continued, just as gently. His words struck a chord within the Russian and she looked down at her hands, feeling something akin to shame. She responded softly, looking up to meet his gaze.

*"Ohne dich zahl ich die stunden. Mit dir stehen die sekunden."

They fell silent and neither could look away as their eyes locked together. They sat like that for a while, unable to move, just silently communicating as they looked at one another. Two minutes may have passed, or perhaps two hours – neither knew or particularly cared. Natasha's eyes flickered down to rest on his lips briefly, before she looked away from him and drew a deep breath, tilting her head up toward the sky. Then, as swiftly as she had arrived, she left. Clint sighed when he heard her get up and move away from him, and listened closely as her footsteps faded away. The archer expected nothing less. He glanced out to the fading lights of the humming city below him, and whispered quietly.

"Ohne dich, Tasha."

*Translation!
'Ohne Dich' – Without you.
'Ohne dich kann ich nich sein' – Without you I cannot be.
'Aber, Mit dir bin ich auch allein' – But, with you I am alone too.
'Ohne dich zahl ich die stunden' – Without you I count the hours.
'Mit dir stehen die sekunden' – Without you the seconds stand still.

Sorry it was all in German, but it was necessary. I felt like it made it more personal between them as I didn't think they'd feel comfortable having that sort of conversation, yet I felt that in another language it made it more probable. I can't actually speak German... and got the translations from the song 'Ohne Dich' by Rammstein. Let me know what you think, sorry if it was a hassle to read!