Now, just to let you know, I really like Clintasha (That's the pairing of Clint and Natasha, if you didn't know), so there's quite a lot of it here. I mean, look at them in the movie! They should totally make a back story for them. By the way, italic parts are flashbacks. Thank you for reviewing, and for adding this as favourite and alert. Read, relax and review!

DAY 3

"This is nothing we were ever trained for..."

X

"Captain, it would be my genuine pleasure."

X

The room was quiet, aside from the beeping of the machines, ticking of the clock, occasional drip of the tap and the extremely shallow breathing of one man. It was as silent as it could get, when suddenly…

Agent Clint Barton burst into the room. "Hey Captain, we're here! Aren't you glad to see us?!" His sudden appearance was answered with the constant silence that the place had managed to keep until he appeared. With no response from the Captain, Clint sighed, his lower lip jutting slightly out.

"You see, I told you it wouldn't work. But you just had to go and try it once." Agent Natasha Romanoff entered, rolling her eyes as she stood next to him. "And now you're pouting like a baby."

"I am not! It's just… I really hoped he would be awake by now. It's been three days, Tasha; he should be awake already."

"I know, but you heard what the doctor said. The concussion was really bad. They won't know how fast or different the super-serum in his blood will react. There won't be a definite way of knowing when he'll wake up."

"You think talking to him might help speed up the process?" Clint dragged two chairs from the side of the room and turned them towards the bed. He sat down on one of them, Natasha following suit after him.

She laid a warm hand on Steve's unconscious one. "Hey Cap, you look better. All the bruises are gone, but you still have those casts. Anyway… we brought you some flowers. Hope you like them." She placed a bouquet of lilies, daisies and tulips on the bedside table.

Clint placed a hand on the Captain's shoulder. "Oh, and we brought you your sketch book, just in case, you know, you get bored or something. Don't worry, we never looked inside; we know how precious your drawings are." He put the book beside the flowers, dusting some dirt off it in the process.

There was a moment where neither of them talked. They just held their gaze on Steve, their hands being the only point of contact with him. The silence returned, only this time, the rhythmic breathing of two people who were saddened was added, but it barely made a difference. There was still the tragic and solemn atmosphere in the room.

Natasha was the first one to break the everlasting silence. "I should have checked the jet before I took off. If I did, this probably wouldn't have happened."

Clint placed a comforting hand on her knee. "Nat, don't blame yourself. I should get the blame too. If I hadn't taken off that quickly, I think I could have turned around and saved him. I could have opened the doors faster…"

She shook her head, shutting her eyes in frustration. "I know what you're trying to do, Clint, and let me tell you: it's not going to work. You're trying to shift the blame so I'll feel less guilty. But you're wrong. It's just making me feel worse. I should have done something, but all I did was check the readings that were obviously wrong. I should have tried and land the plane. I did nothing, Clint. And it's all my fault."

"Nat, listen to me." The redhead still had her eyes shut, so Clint had to turn her to face him. "Listen to me! You did do something. You passed Bruce the gun. You called for me to turn back. You tried to stabilise the jet. You tried to kill the virus that the robot implanted into the jet's system to close the door. That doesn't sound like nothing to me. You did help, so you can't keep blaming yourself. All of us had a part in this."

He tilted her head so that they were eye-to-eye. His grey eyes were filled with such warmth and care that Natasha couldn't turn her own green ones away. "Tasha, don't you think Steve would want you to stop blaming yourself? He wouldn't want to see you like this. None of us wants to see you like this, especially me. So stop trying to beat yourself up over it, okay?"

Natasha let out a sigh before smiling. "Okay." She turned back to look at Steve. "For Cap." Then she looked at Clint. "And for you."

He smiled, cheeks starting to turn red. He looked down at Steve's unconscious body, trying to hide it. "Is it just me, or does he look younger?"

"People do look younger when they're asleep. Maybe they forget about their troubles when they're sleeping."

"Good, 'cause Cap has a lot of things going through his mind every day. He needs some time off from all that serious thinking."

"I guess it's karma then, because he helped me with some of my problems."

Clint raised an eyebrow. "Really, you too? What'd he help you with?"

"He taught me how to trust." And Natasha couldn't help but smile at the memory.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was around a month ago, deep into the night. Steve and Natasha were both in the meeting room of the Avenger's mansion, neither being able to sleep. Steve was sketching; Natasha was planning. The two were silently doing their own things, minding their own business when Steve breaks the silence. "Natasha, you've been a spy since you were young, right?"

The red-head looked up from her papers. "Yeah… why do you ask?"

"Nothing… it's just… Spies normally don't trust people, but you trusted the rest of us pretty quickly. That's different, but it's a good different."

She looked away guiltily. "Well…"

Steve stared at her. "You don't trust us? But we're a team; a family even. How could you not?"

Natasha frowned. She looked at Steve, sighing in frustration. "I trust you, Cap. And Bruce too. Maybe even Thor, but not the others."

"You don't trust Tony or Clint?"

"Do you trust Tony, Steve?"

"Yes."

"Be honest, Cap. Do you trust Stark one hundred per cent of the time?"

"... Not hundred per cent, maybe more like fifty to sixty…" Natasha gives him a pointed look that said: 'told you so'. "Point taken, but what about Clint? The two of you have known each other for a long time. How can you not trust him?"

Natasha closed her eyes. "It's not that I don't trust him, it's just… the first time we met, he was on a mission to kill me, Steve. Albeit he did save me in the end, but I just… it's hard to forget that. And when Loki controlled him… he was a whole different person. He tried to kill me on the helicarrier. It's difficult to sidestep that, especially when he's been there for me all this time."

"And yet, you still talk to him, laugh with him, fight with him, cry with him and help him. You do trust him; you just don't see it. Natasha, I know it's hard for you to trust people because of your job, but that doesn't mean you push them away. You tell yourself that, but in the end, you do the exact opposite.

"Maybe it's your own imperfection: that it's hard for you to find a place in your heart to trust someone. But then you trust me, you trust Bruce and Thor. So why not Clint? Let him in; let others in. It might not be the best thing to do as a spy, but it helps. In one way or another… it helps."

The red-head let the words process in her head before she answered. "Thank you, Steve."

The blond gave a bright smile in return. "No problem. Now all we have to do is help you trust Tony."

Laughing, the ex-Russian answered. "That's going to take a lot more than just a talk."

XXXXXXXX

"Trust?" Clint asked her with a sceptical look. "That seems… deep."

"Well, it was. What about you? What did Steve help you with?"

"He umm… taught me how to be more serious."

XXXXXXXXXX

Three weeks ago, mid-afternoon, Steve and Clint were in the mansion's gym. The archer was doing some weight-lifting, and had asked the Captain to be his spotter. They had been going at it for 15 minutes, when Clint stopped, getting up from the bench.

Steve looked at him curiously. "You're done already? You didn't even reach half-an-hour. What's up?"

"I just… I… do you take me seriously Cap?" Clint asked, draping his arms over his knees.

"I guess it depends on the situation, but… you can be serious when you want to."

"That just means that I'm not."

"What's wrong? You don't usually ask questions like this. Come on, tell me. Maybe I can help." Steve took a seat next to Clint, waiting for the response.

"None of you really take me seriously. I mean, yeah, during missions you do, but when we're back in our normal lives, you guys just joke around with me. Nothing serious ever goes on in any conversations I have with you guys."

"Clint… you don't really think that."

"I do! You're okay; so is Bruce, but the others… Thor and I, we're the two jokers in the group, we laugh, we make people think we're silly. That's fine, he's a god, and I don't think he'll really want to be serious. Tony… he… he makes fun of my archery almost every single day, but I ignore it, because I know he's just jealous. I know it's good to have a laugh, but… I just want to be taken seriously."

"Clint, don't you see? You're thinking that by being the comical one you aren't serious. But look at you now. You're having a serious, one-to-one talk with me. You think that it's a bad thing, but it isn't. When things are down, at least we have you to lighten the mood. Okay, so maybe when bad things happen, you don't have to make a joke about it, but at least you try."

The archer ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, fine, but what about Nat? You know, every time I crack a joke, she just kinda glares at me. And when I'm serious, she asks if something's wrong. Come on! I can't win!"

Steve took his time to explain. "You have to understand that she thinks differently from the rest of us. She's known you the longest. Maybe that's why she expects more maturity from you. You can't be funny all the time. I know you just want to help cheer us up, but being serious might actually help. You just have to know whether it's the right time to be funny or serious. I think if you do that, Natasha, along with the rest of us, might look at you a whole lot differently."

Clint turned to face the Captain. He smiled, running his hand through his hair yet again. "Thanks for the advice, Cap."

"Don't mention it. Anyway… you up for a match?" Steve gestured towards the boxing ring.

Clint gave one of his most smug smiles. "Oh, you're on."

XXXXXXXXXX

"I hope now you understand that not all occasions need an unnecessary joke." Natasha added, nudging Clint.

"Yeah, I do." Clint looked at Steve's unmoving face. "He really is a good man."

"That's why he's Captain America." The red-head glanced at the clock on the opposite wall. "Visiting hours are almost over. We should head back."

"Okay." The archer got up from his seat, his hand still on the Captain's shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze before he said, "See you Cap; hope you'll be up-and-about soon."

Natasha leaned forward, planting a light kiss on Steve's forehead. "And thank you, for all that you've done."

Clint folded his arms. "Hey, don't I get a kiss?" The minute the words left his mouth, he regretted instantly. It wasn't the time for a joke.

Unlike previous times, where Natasha glared at him for his insensitivity, she smiled at him, giving out a small laugh. "You wish." She got up, heading towards the door.

He walked up to her, a smile plastered on his face. "What if I got you a cup of coffee? Would I get one then?"

Natasha was already out the door, but looked over her shoulder at Clint. A smile that he had rarely seen was there on her, one that exuded warmth, humour, care, but more importantly, trust. "We'll see."

His smile shined a hundred times brighter. Before he could close the door behind him, he turned back inside, facing Steve. "If you can hear me Cap… Thank you. For everything."

Okay, so I don't want to be mean, but can you all please review something other than 'please update soon'? Not that I don't appreciate them (they do encourage me to write faster), but I want something other than that. I would really love it if you did.

So, anyway, thanks for reading! Hope you liked it!