The next time Kate awoke she was in a hospital bed. Soft voices drifted to her side of the room and she turned her stiff neck to see Bobbi perched on the other bed. Her heart stilled when she saw Clint. He looked smaller laying there, hooked up to various machines. His hair seemed blonder under the bright light and it was tousled every which way. There were cuts and bruises on his face and arms and stiches are holding some skin right under his hair together. Overall it was a vast improvement over the last time Kate saw him.

This conversation must have been going better than their last because they're both smiling and touching. Clint said something Kate couldn't hear and Bobbi laughed in response. She watched silently as Bobbi lightly brushed her fingers through a messy section of his hair. He moved his bruised hand towards hers and their fingers got tangled together. It was when Bobbi leaned down and placed a tender kiss to his brow that Kate looked away. She fell back asleep before the pair could even realize that she was intruding again on their private moment.

The doctors quickly clear the Hawks as medically sound and send them home with a generous helping of pain medication. It was decided that someone needed to keep an eye on the ailing pair and somehow Natasha drew the proverbial short straw. She knew it was for the best. After years of being partners, she knew how to deal with Clint. Especially a hurt and irritable Clint. She figured if she handle Clint then she could handle his protégé too.

So when she was volunteered, she didn't object. She just quietly loaded them into her car. Which proved to be more difficult than it should have been, but not nearly as difficult as getting them out of said car and up the stairs to Clint's apartment.

The phrase 'one step forward, two steps back' took on a literal meaning with these two. They would take a few steps and would stop, swaying in place, leaning against the wall or each other. Natasha typically had the patience of a saint but it was waning quickly the longer it took them to ascend the staircase.

After what seem to be eternity, they made it to Clint's front door. Natasha's foot tapped impatiently as Clint slowly searched each pocket for his keys. As Clint searched, she glanced at Kate who was busy keeping a wall up. Her eyes were closed and her face had taken an unnatural shade of white and green.

"Don't do it."

Kate's eyes flew open and she looked at Natasha with muddled confusion.

"Do not throw up in this hallway." Natasha clarified. She hadn't meant for it come out so harshly but she also really didn't want to have to scrub vomit out of the carpet. She watched Kate swallowed heavily and lean her head back onto the wall.

The sound of jingling keys almost brought a smile of relief to Natasha's face. Clint held up the keys in triumph as if he had found hidden treasure. In what seemed like slow motion, he moved towards the lock. She nearly growled in frustration when the keys slipped like water through his fumbling fingers. She caught them easily before the hit the ground.

"Wow, Tasha. You're pretty good with keys." Clint wagged his eyebrows at her as if he had said some kind of innuendo.

Natasha couldn't help the small smile that crossed her lips and she give him an affectionate pat on the cheek. "I'm sure that sounded very dirty and clever in your head." She opened the front door and ushered the two inside. "Come on. Inside you go, дети."

Children

The two shuffled inside much like two young children still groggy from a mid-day nap. Lucky met them excitedly. His nails tapped against the floor as he bounded and weaved around them. Natasha gave him a pat on the top of head and it seemed to pacify him for the moment.

"Stay here." She instructed Clint while guiding Kate through the kitchen and up the stairs that led to the upstairs level. "Don't leave." She instructed again over her shoulder and thought she heard a muffled sarcastic 'yes ma'am'. She'd take it.

She led Kate into Clint's bedroom and closed the door behind them. Natasha scrunched up her nose at the mess. She kicked a path through the clothes, shoes, and other items slewed around the room to get to the dresser. She opened the top draw and started rifling through it.

"Do you have any clothes here?" She asked. She waited for a response but one wasn't given. She looked over shoulder to see Kate standing in the middle of the room blinking warily. Natasha sighed.

She put aside some clothes for Clint then grabbed one of his shirts and sweatpants for Kate. "Kate?" The young woman blinked at the sound of her name and looked up at Natasha. Taking advantage, Natasha continued.

"Let's get you into something more comfortable." She handed the pile of clothes to Kate who still stood there unmoving. "Go ahead." She prompted.

Kate fidgeted and adverted her eyes. A subtle blush creeped up her neck. "This is weird." She said so softy that Natasha had to strain to hear her.

"What?" Natasha questioned. She waited for an explanation as Kate looked everywhere but at the spy. The girl looked like she was going to die from embarrassment when Natasha finally understood. She practically growled.

"Are you kidding me?" She asked. "What? Are you shy now?" Kate still looked away and Natasha sighed. "Listen," She said changing tactics, trying to be as kind as possible. "I'm not leaving you to change on your own and you trip over your own two feet. If you fall and break your neck, Clint's going to come after me."

She looked up and Natasha saw just how miserable she must felt. The girl's face was a mix of exhaustion, embarrassment, and another emotion that Natasha couldn't identify. After a moment, she turned and swept her long black hair aside exposing the zipper on her suit.

Natasha silently pulled the zipper down and walked over to the bed, giving Kate some privacy. She kept an ear tuned to Kate as she pulled back the covers. A small noise of disgust escaped her as she caught sight of the sheets. She smoothed them out and tried her best to sweep all of the crumbs off the mattress. She made a mental note to talk to Clint once he sobered up about his cleaning habits. She stopped when she noticed the absence of noise and turned her attention back to Kate.

The shirt Natasha had given her was about three sizes too big and seemed to shallow her. The pants, even cinched as much as possible, still hung comically from her hips. Natasha patted the bed, beckoning the tired girl over.

"Come on, немного ястреб."

Little hawk

The endearment was fitting. She was like a little Clint. They were so similar in many ways and Kate seemed to have a good effect on Clint. Just in the few times they had met before this fiasco, Natasha noticed how she challenged him to do better; to be better. She wasn't afraid to call him out when he needed it. Natasha could see how when they were together they rounded each other out. They had the pieces that the other needed.

Kate slowly walked over and lowered herself on the bed. Remembering her earlier green parlor, Natasha placed a wastebasket by the bed and started to leave the room. She almost made it to the door when she was stopped by the quiet voice.

"Why do you that?"

Natasha turned raising her eyebrows in question and Kate clarified. "Speak Russian sometimes. So people don't know what you're saying?"

Natasha considered her question for a moment before she turned back and perched on the edge of the bed. "Sometimes." She answered with a shrug. "Sometimes it just slips out."

"What did you say just then?" Kate asked, eyes now shut. She couldn't see the flush of embarrassment that overtook Natasha's face. She considered lying to the girl but she'd probably just go and ask Clint. That was if she even remembered this conversation in the morning.

"Hемного ястреб. It means little hawk." She answered truthfully. She watched Kate smirk and draw the covers up under her chin.

"Little hawk, I like that. I might use one day." Kate mused. The smirk disappeared quickly and her eyebrows furrowed, eyes still shut. "Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?"

Years of training prevented Natasha from physically flinching at the question but it struck her just the same. And she wasn't sure why. She was far past caring about what others thought of her. That was breed out of her years ago as a child. Feelings like those were not tolerated in the Red Room. It wasn't so much she cared what Kate thought of her, but for some reason that thought that she was unduly mean to her unsettled Natasha.

"I've known Clint for a long time now." Natasha finally said and focused on keeping her tone even and neutral. Kate cracked an eye open and waited for her to continue.

"Since we've been partners, we watch each other's back. I try to protect him whenever I can, no matter what. But sometimes I can't." She paused. "I asked you to watch his back and you did. You were ready to shoot anyone that tried to hurt him. I thank you for that."

Kate met Natasha's gaze and with a seriousness that surpassed her young age said, "I'll always have his back."

Natasha nodded once and stood up.

"I know."

With that she grabbed the extra clothes and walked out of the room giving Kate the opportunity to rest. She walked down the staircase, ready to relax but she knew that she still had Clint to deal with. She prayed that he'd cooperate.

She turned into the kitchen and couldn't help to smile at the sight before her. Clint had obeyed her instructions not to move. In fact, he hadn't moved an inch. He was leaned over the kitchen island with Lucky laying at his feet. All Natasha could see was a nest of sandy blond hair resting on top of his arms. He lifted his head once he heard her light footsteps. He was the only one that could ever hear her walk into a room.

"Come on, Hawkeye. Let's get you out of those clothes." She said walking into the living area, knowing that that would get him moving. He gave her, what Natasha assumed, was a playful seductive smile. But the famous Hawkeye was off his game tonight and it turned out to be more of a sloppy lopsided grin.

"Yes ma'am." He purred teasingly and started to follow her. Natasha knew the second he moved that he was in still in pain. He hid it well but she knew all his tells. With each step, he clenched his jaw tighter. The muscle below his right eye twitched. They were all subtle signs that would be missed if you weren't looking for them.

She didn't intervene until he reached out with his left hand for something to brace against. She slid underneath his arm and took most of his weight until he regained his balance. She guided him onto the couch and helped his ease out of his boots. Then she started unpacking his shirt. She had begun pulling it up when he grabbed her wrist stopping her.

"What's wrong?" She asked, her hands still on his shirt. "I know you're not shy."

He gave a strained smile, his bright blue eyes tight with pain. "Be easy."

She returned the smile with a wink. "I always am."

He nodded, giving her the ok to continue. She finished pulling up the black tee shirt and helped ease out his left arm, then his right, then lifted the shirt up over his head. He didn't verbally protest but Natasha noticed his sharp inhale.

She gave him a moment to recover then moved to his belt quickly undoing it. She shimmed the cargo pants down past his hips and slipped them off completely. It wasn't awkward in the least. It was a routine they were both used to. They experienced the kind of intimacy that came with being partners. Knowing that they could trust each other with their lives. Having the trust to sleep in the other's presence and knowing that they'd be safe. Trusting the other to dig bullets from their body, patch them up, and know they'd do the same for the other.

He sat there only in purple boxers and Natasha took this opportunity to take a better look at his injuries. Shallow cuts lined his face and arms. The worst was a cut at his hairline that was now held together by stitches. She gently traced the dark purple bruises along his torso. They led to the pack of thick white gauze on his side. She peeled back a corner to get a better look at the stab wound.

"It's looking better." She mused.

He grunted in agreement. "I've had worse."

"I know you have." She said as she ducked her head to get a better look. The stiches were pulled taunt across his skin. The color looked better than it did the last time she had seen it in the hospital. She replaced the gauze and secured the tape, sealing it in place.

"Alright, let's get you dressed."

Clint sighed. "Can't I just…" He let the sentence trail and vaguely gestured to his clothes-less state.

Natasha grinned. "Trust me, if it was just us, I'd let you sit around completely naked if that's what you wanted. But since your protégé is sleeping upstairs I don't think that's a good idea." He sighed once more but allowed her to help him dress and ease him back onto the cushions. She went to swing his legs up onto the couch but he stopped her.

"I'm not sleepy." She shot him a look full of disbelief and he rolled his eyes with childish exaggeration. "I'm serous, Nat. I don't want to sleep right now." The sharp undercurrent in his tone made Natasha pause. She saw the irritability that now settled in his face and decided to let it go. He was hurting and she suspected his pain medicine was wearing off. Which meant that the hawk would soon be difficult to deal with.

So Natasha let him be, grabbed the TV remote from off the table and settled in beside him. She offered him control of the remote but he denied it with a shake of his head so she mindlessly flipped thru the channels. They sat that way in silence for a few long minutes, long enough that Natasha was sure that Clint had fallen asleep.

That hope deflated when she glanced over and saw that he was still awake. His eyes flickered over to hers briefly, but stayed silent allowing himself to be observed. He was exhausted, she could read it all over his face. He was tense. Natasha watched as his brow would furrow then smooth back out, only to pinch back together a moment later. He had something he wanted to say and she knew he wouldn't let himself relax until he said it.

"How's Kate?" He finally asked.

"She's ok; sound asleep right now." Natasha answered.

"She's good, isn't she?" He glanced back over to Natasha, meeting her gaze. "Better than me." His tone was heavy, loaded with something.

Natasha wasn't sure where he was leading but knew she had to tread lightly. "She's good with a bow but I wouldn't say she's better then you. Not yet anyways." She teased but he remained sullen.

"That's not what I meant." His lips pulled into a tight line. "She's so much better than me, Nat."

"Are you in love with her?" There it was. She lunched the question had been stuck in the back of her mind right out into the open.

Clint bristled. "Seriously, Nat?" The words were spat out with such fervor that it answered her question and she needed no more explanation. It took another minute before the red that flushed his face faded and returned to its usual color. It took a few more minutes before he spoke again his voice softer this time.

"We're close but not like that." He tugged on some frayed strands on the couch that captured his attention. "We're just friends. I know everyone says it but it's true for us, Nat. It's not like how I and you were when…" He stopped mid-sentence when he realized what he was saying.

His words hung heavily in the air between them, bring back memories that neither of them had called to mind in a long while. "Strings." He finally sighed. "Everyone has them. I have 'em with you. Have 'em with Bobbi. But not with Katie. I like it that way. It's simple."

"I get it, Barton." She assured him. She intended to let him off the emotional hook but he kept talking.

"I tried to convince her to bail twice so she wouldn't get hurt and she wouldn't." His frowned deeply. "She said that she was the Hawkeye that didn't bail. Guess who the one that does bail is?" He gave a small rueful chuckle and racked a hand through hair. "Girl gets shot, is bleeding out everywhere and still has to drag my sorry butt around."

"She must think you're worth it." He starts to protest and Natasha didn't give him a chance to continue. "She wouldn't stick with you if she didn't believe in you, Clint. I think she sees more in you then what you're willing to see in yourself."

He looked away and Natasha gently turned his face back to her, forcing him to meet her gaze. "She's not the only one, Clint." His eye darted away from under Natasha's heavy gaze and she waited until he looked back at her. "Clint, you know that, right?"

"Yeah." He was silent for another moment before he spoke again, this time with his famous grin. "How could I forget? I've got three women that keep nagging me."

He was deflecting but Natasha let him. She knew it was a conversation better suited for another time. So she gave him a small laugh and let him lower his head onto her lap. As if out of instant, her hands were on top his head, carding through his mop of hair. She watched as he finally allowed himself to relax, the tension easing out of his muscles. His eyes fluttered shut and when Natasha thought that he was finally asleep, he spoke once more.

"We've been through a lot haven't we, вдова?"

Widow

Natasha knows he's fallen asleep even before she responds.

"Yes we have, ястреб."

Hawk

Kate woke up to the smell of coffee. It was heavenly. The sunlight peeked in through the cheap blinds and she soaked it up. It took a moment for her to realize that she was in Clint's bed and not her own. It's when her side aches that the past couple of days came rushing back to her. She sighed and careful felt the stiches that were stretched along her rib cage. Clint had told her that Natasha had to push her ribs back into her body on the way to the hospital. She thought he was kidding.

She allowed herself a few more moments of sun soaking before getting up and padding downstairs. Two coffee cups were waiting on the kitchen counter. Clint had his back to her but turned around the instant he heard her footsteps.

"Hey," He greeted her with a large smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." She said, sliding into one of the tall chairs. "You?"

"Real good."

Kate knew that he wasn't telling the truth as soon as he moved. He moved stiffly while grabbing the coffee pot and filling their cups. He moved again to grab a small brown bag and his actions were sloth like compared to his usual speed. She pated the chair beside her. "Come sit down before you fall down."

He must have really be hurting because he didn't argue with her. He just sat and handed her the bag. She smiled when she opened it, inhaleing deeply. Fresh bagels from Clint's favorite place.

"Where'd you get these?" She asked handing him a bagel.

"Bobbi dropped them off earlier. She approves of your grocery choices by the way."

That made her smile. "Natasha still here?"

Clint shook his head. "No. She left a couple hours ago. Said she'd do our paperwork as our get well soon gift. It's just us for a while."

"So," Kate started, "a leak?"

Clint nodded. "There was a mole but they couldn't smoke him out. They had it narrowed down to a few agents, so they fed them some information and you know the rest."

"That's nice." She said dryly. "And they couldn't tell us all this because why exactly?"

"They didn't want to make it seem like they knew too much." Clint smiled slightly. "When the mole found out that both of us would be there, he apparently beefed up the reinforcements. That's why it went south so quickly." He winked at her. "I guess he heard that we make a pretty formable team."

They finished eating in a comfortable silence and neither felt compelled to speak again until they were headed to the couch. "Listen," Clint started earnestly, his eyes intense. "Thank you, Katie. For everything."

She smiled and squeezed his hand. "No problem, Hawkeye."

He returned the gesture with a smile of his own. They collapsed on the couch and watched bad TV until Natasha came back to the apartment. Which was just fine with Kate. She folded herself into his side and remembered his earlier words: Just Katie. Maybe that's what I need.

She smiled to herself and laid her head on his shoulder. Just Katie. If that's what he needed then that was just fine with her too.