I know, it's a shock, this chapter is actually out in under a week. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, alerted and favorited this story, it means a lot to know I have the support of all of you readers. Speaking of reviews, do you people realize that you've given me more than 150 reviews for this story? And it's not even done yet! So thank you so much.
Moving on to the story, there's going to be somewhere around 2-4 chapters left, depending on what I decide to put in what chapter and such. I got many reviews asking what the rest of the team's reactions to Jack Potts' actions would be, and we get to see more of that in this chapter. Also in this chapter, we get a lot more. Clint/Natasha. You've been warned.
Here's chapter 10, and I hope you enjoy.
As always, I own nothing.
"Jack… what?" Marie was the first to break the thick silence that descended over the room, aside from the heated-sounding, hushed conversation between Tony and Steve.
"I put him away for murder seven years ago." Jack said, tone and expression softening as he looked to his wife. "Lewis Jacobson. Prominent business man in a very competitive market. Was walking to his car in a parking garage after work when Barton went and snapped his neck. Luckily enough, a young female assistant that forgot something in the office was walking by and saw. Barton noticed her and bolted, but we found his prints on a railing. Caught up with him a week later and got an easy conviction."
"People sometimes make bad decisions, Mr. Potts, and I doubt you are any different." Natasha said coolly, taking a small step forward to stand more in front of the older man while completely ignoring the wary glance that passed between Bruce and Steve, while Tony gave a small snort of what sounded like agreement. "You may have listed his past, but you know nothing about him or the circumstances that led to those decisions. Clint has taken his second chance and has done the most he possibly could with it. He has saved countless lives, including mine on multiple occasions – and if you want to get technical – yours, your wife's and your daughter's. You have no idea how far off the mark you are."
The boiling anger that Natasha was feeling was kept carefully bottled beneath her cold, stoic mask. She knew how much those words would drill into Clint and eat at him; rip open barely healed wounds.
"I-," Jack started, his tone defensive, but Pepper cut across him, tone sharp and almost disbelieving.
"Natasha's right." she said quickly, taking her own small step closer. "It's been seven years since that happened, and he's been living here for months."
"You mean you knew what he had done?" Jack demanded, eyes widening, and Pepper shook her head slightly as she sighed.
"Of course. He's an assassin, but that doesn't automatically make him a bad person." she said matter of factly, before looking to Tony as he stepped up beside her, not at all looking pleased.
"And just where do you think you get the right to attack him like that in his own home?" the billionaire demanded, but before he could continue to the now very shocked looking Jack Potts, Pepper touched a hand to his arm and met his gaze with a deeply apologetic expression.
"Let's just… I'll show them where they're staying, give everyone some time to cool down."
The five Avengers remaining in the room were silent while Pepper waved her parents over to the elevator, carting their luggage back into it as well. As soon as the three were gone, Tony spun around, the anger in his expression melting into poorly masked worry.
"This is going to be a hell of a week." Bruce said wearily, and Tony sighed in response, running a hand down the back of his head.
"The last place Clint should feel uncomfortable is in his own home; I mean that was bad enough. We'll be lucky if we ever convince him to come out of the air ducts. Maybe I should talk to Pepper about-,"
Natasha cut him off with a sharp shake of her head, the anger burning in her eyes more pronounced now that she was only around the team.
"No, he knows how important this is to you and to Pepper. If you tell them to leave, the only thing it's going to do is make him feel guiltier." she informed them, no doubt in her voice. "It will be bad enough that he' start believing what that man said, and that you all heard it."
"But we don't believe that." Steve said firmly, shoulders tensing slightly. "It couldn't be further from the truth."
Natasha gave a sigh, and Thor spoke up in an unusually low voice, putting a light hand on the Russian assassin's shoulder.
"Lady Natasha, perhaps you should find and try to talk to the Hawk. You are likely the only one he will let close in this state." he said and Natasha gave a slight nod, making for the stairs. He would either be in the gym or on the roof, if he wasn't holed up in the corner of some air duct, and he'd be less likely to run before she could talk if he didn't hear her approach.
"So should we tell him that she's an assassin too, and that I turn into a giant, green rage monster now and get it all over with at once?" Bruce asked lightly, turning to Tony, who gave a dramatic groan and moved towards the bar.
"And people wonder why I prefer science to human beings." he muttered under his breath. "I need a drink."
Natasha silently moved into the training gym, her first cursory examination revealing no sign of Clint. When she glanced up to the rafters, however, it took her well-trained eyes only moments to spot him laying along one of the longer metal beams on his stomach, arms and legs wrapped lightly around it. To a passerby, he seemed almost casually relaxed, but she could see the lines of tension in his back, and in how completely still he kept himself.
She knew he had already seen her, but he made no acknowledgement. She didn't expect him to at this point, instead lithely making her own way into the rafters.
She wasn't nearly as graceful as he was and couldn't navigate the narrow strips of metal with the same confidence, but she could manage. Carefully, she sat herself by his head, leaning against the support beam that led to the ceiling. She didn't say anything at first, giving him the time to leave if he wanted to; to continue his pointed silence towards her that he had adopted since their explosive argument outside their rooms after they had returned from their mission.
Explosive by their terms, anyway. Neither assassin was known for raising their voice when angry, able to convey much more in a low, predatorial tone than any shout ever could.
To be completely fair, she had been avoiding even looking in his direction for the past two days as well.
To her relief, however, when he slowly moved into a sitting position, eyes still slightly downcast, he didn't move from in front of her and he spoke quietly.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing." she answered simply and truthfully. "I gave him a few choice words. Pepper and Tony had some too. The only reason he's still here is because we know that if Tony does kick him out, you'd just feel more guilty."
"Nat, it's Pepper's father. Tony's future father-in-law. I don't want to-," he started, sounding aggravated with himself, but Natasha just shushed him quietly, gently raising his head so their gazes met.
A whole new round of hurt and anger rolled through her to see the protective walls of cold indifference he'd pulled around himself; the same ones that she had seen as his near-constant companions from the night she met him on the snowy rooftop in a small German village, until he had finally relaxed around the team only a few months before. He hid himself underneath a cold, hard gaze, indifferent features, and a dangerous atmosphere that kept most everyone at bay. She had never been fazed by it, but the sudden reappearance of that attitude only made her angrier.
"Clint, this is your home." she said firmly, holding his gaze. "You should be comfortable here. He had no right to say what he did, especially seeing as it wasn't true."
Clint said nothing in response, but she could see in his eyes that he wasn't in complete agreement.
"Feel like sparring?" she asked after a few minutes of silence between them, drawing her hand back from where it had been under his chin.
Without another glance to him, she dropped down to the floor lightly, unsurprised to see him land beside her only a heartbeat later. Wordlessly, they moved the sparring mat and within moments were locked into a vicious fight, throwing and blocking carefully calculated blows. They never aimed to avoid injury; they fought in every sense of the word, leaving no skill unused.
"Can we stop lying to each other and ourselves?" Clint asked shortly after nearly ten minutes as he flipped over her, slamming both feet between her shoulder blades before she could turn, pitching her forward.
Natasha came out of the resulting roll in a ready crouch, blocking three sharp punches aimed for her temple.
"Excuse me?" she asked in confusion, returning with her own flurry of blows, one spinning kick connecting with her partner's shoulder.
"Come on, Tasha." he said, sounding almost exasperated, feigning to stumble because of the hit and grabbing the wrist that she swung at him; twisting it up and behind her until her shoulder threatened to come out of its socket. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. The only reason we've been fighting for the past two days."
With a grunt, she shot her legs up and wrapped them around his neck, flipping him onto his back on the mat and causing him to release her arm. He rolled to the side before she could connect a kick to his ribs, flipping to his feet just in time to block another kick to his head.
"The only reason either of us had a problem, or lack thereof, with that shot." he continued without her response, launching his own attack and swiping her legs out from beneath her before twisting behind her as she regained her feet and balance and wrapping a strong arm around her neck in an inescapable headlock and pulling her back against him, using his other arm to pin her struggling arms to her sides. "I care about you, and you care about me. We can't just keep dancing around the issue, Tasha, or more problems like this are going to keep cropping up."
She gave a long sigh, and lightly tapped her fingers against his thigh, making him release her instantly. He took a small step back and lowered himself onto the mat, blinking up at her.
"What are you trying to say, Clint?" she asked, though her tone suggested she already knew, and he could tell she was already pulling back from both him and the conversation. She was wary, and he completely understood, but he was going to finish what he wanted to say. He'd gotten this far.
"That I love you, Natasha." he said, sounding much calmer about the words than he expressly felt.
"Clint…" she said, her tone warning as her head shook slowly and she lowered herself onto the mat in front of him.
"It's about time one of us said it." he said, not at all retracting his words.
"Love is for children." she said softly, though her words weren't at all confident and now it was her gaze that was lowered.
"Natasha." he said gently, moving forward to take her hand and locking his gaze with hers. "I know how hard this is for you; I understand and you know I do. I'm not asking you to jump into this with me like an idiot, I'm just asking if we can give me and you a try. If we can try being honest with ourselves for a change."
They were both silent for a long time, unmoving with their eyes expressing everything they didn't need to say.
"I would never do anything to hurt you." he said quietly, and she gave him a slightly incredulous look.
"I know that." she said as if it was obvious, though her uncertainty was still visible in her eyes.
"So why not do something normal for once?" he pressed, not moving a muscle as he waited for her response.
Finally, Natasha took her free hand and gently cupped his face before hesitantly and slowly leaning forward and kissing him carefully. Clint snaked an arm around her waist, returning the kiss just as gently. After a few moments, Natasha pulled back slightly, moving her gaze to meet his again.
"I have been yours for quite some time, мой ястреб, but admitting it to myself has been hard enough." she said quietly, her gaze searching the soft happiness and affection in his eyes, the darkness having receded somewhat. "But you're right. We need to be honest to each other if no one else. But we'll have to be careful. And SHIELD can't know."
"No." Clint agreed, snorting when he thought of how Fury would react to knowing that his two best assassins were in a relationship. Not that the director didn't likely already suspect. Most everyone did. "Nat, I've been acting with your interests before mine in the field for years already; admitting our feelings isn't going to change that."
She sighed, shaking her head slightly as if aggravated before moving to sit more or less beside him with his arm around her shoulders and her head resting lightly on his chest.
"Clint," she spoke up quietly after another few moments of silence and the archer turned his eyes to look down at her, waiting patiently for her to continue. "I love you too." the words came easier than she expected. She hadn't even expressly meant to say it out loud. And yet, after she did, she felt a heaviness disappear from her chest, and a small smile toyed on her lips.
His arm tightened around her shoulders and a grin formed on his face as he pressed his lips lightly to her hair in response.
"But I have to wonder," she spoke up again, turning her head so their gazes could meet. "What in the world made you decide to bring this up now?"
Almost instantly, his eyes darkened again; visibly shuttered; shutting even her out.
"Thinking about you is a hell of a lot better that thinking about Jack Potts." he said stiffly, lowering his gaze after a few moments, but Natasha just twisted in his arm, cupping his face again.
"Don't shut me out, Clint." she said firmly. "What he said wasn't true, you know that."
"Do I?" Clint asked stiffly, making Natasha sigh.
"You should." she said matter of factly. "You know what you've done. Both before and after he put you into prison. And I know what he said about your past has been more than eating at you. The others… They won't care."
Again, Clint sighed, pulling more in on himself and looking not at all convinced, and Natasha could see it. Before she could continue, however, he pulled away and leapt to his feet, looking down to her with a questioning gaze.
"Want to spar again?" he asked, effectively changing the subject completely.
She bowed her head for a moment, giving it a slight shake, though she knew getting him to sit back down and talk to her until she agreed wasn't going to happen. Not only did she need to agree, but she had to win. That'd be the only way she got him to sit still long enough to actually talk to her about what he was letting get to him. So she fluidly rose to her feet as well before glancing to where he stood a few feet away, watching her with a small, tight smirk.
She returned it before spinning into action, unsurprised when he simply twisted around the kick she had aimed for his head.
This match lasted much longer than their first, their flips, blocks and attacks becoming much more intricate and fast paced. Tony had once called the pair of them sparring an intricate dance of death. Both had to admit their agreement. After maybe half an hour, Natasha landed a solid kick to Clint's stomach, doubling him over slightly, which allowed her to flit lightly onto his back, hooking both arms behind him in what amounted to more or less inescapable holds. Smirking when he grunted and tensed to roll beneath her, she shoved her knee into his back, off-balancing him and causing him to stumble, and then with more of her help, knock the air completely out of his lungs as he landed heavily on his stomach, arms still held behind him.
Moments later, she felt his fingers lightly tap her arm and she released him, moving to sit beside him as he simply rolled over onto his back, glancing to her as he propped his head up on one arm.
"It's not that I blame him for putting me in prison." Clint started lightly, his tone almost thoughtful, though his eyes were still hard. "He was right to, I know that. I couldn't imagine what would have happened if he hadn't. Who knows if Coulson would have caught up with me if I had kept taking contracts, or if I would have listened to him even if he had? At least in prison I had no choice but to jump at the chance, even if I didn't trust him at all."
"You always had a choice." Natasha corrected him, tilting her head slightly when he just shook his slowly. "You made the right one."
"I made the one that benefited me." he said tonelessly. "Federal prison and 18 year old assassins don't exactly mix well, Tasha. I was in and out of the infirmary the entire time, trying to protect myself from bastards bigger than me that wanted me to take care of their problems."
Natasha hid her wince of sympathy expertly, even though she knew he could see it in her eyes anyway. He seemed to ignore it, continuing to speak, his eyes watching the ceiling blankly.
"And you, you'd probably still be taking contracts." he pointed out, but she snorted tonelessly.
"Give SHIELD some credit, I'd be dead by now." she said matter of factly, which just made Clint frown, to which she raised an eyebrow. "Clint, we both know that you are the only reason I am alive; the only reason SHIELD reluctantly gave me a chance."
"So I guess we can't really fault Jack Potts that much, hmm?" Clint asked rhetorically, his expression smoothing into emotionlessness again.
Natasha simply scowled in response, her eyes narrowing. That was not at all the conclusion she wanted him to come to.
"Alright, Clint, but that was seven years ago. You made some bad decisions; we all do. He has no right to judge you on it now, when he barely knows you, or the strong, brave and selfless man you've become." she said firmly, moving to sit closer to his side, where she could meet his gaze without him moving. She let him sit in silence for a few moments, process what she was telling him and maybe let it soothe the guilt that had risen up in him again. Then, she leaned in closer and gently pressed her lips to his forehead before speaking quietly. "You know the others have been standing at the elevator trying to find a good spot to interrupt for a while now."
Clint gave a low, unamused chuckle of agreement, meeting her gaze.
"I'm surprised Stark has lasted this long." he murmured, though she could see in his eyes that he was in no way ready to deal with them. Not when he was still trying to get together his own head.
"Course of action?" she asked in the same tone, though she had a sneaking suspicion that Steve would be able to hear them anyway.
"Ignore." Clint's response was simple as he met her gaze again. He didn't want to hear the other four Avengers at the moment. Truthfully, yes, he was still wary of their reactions to the parts of his past that he hadn't shared with them yet that had been announced unceremoniously earlier. He was terrified they would agree with the man, even though the rational part of his brain reminded that that was probably about as likely as Natasha agreeing with him.
What he wanted, especially now that they had finally admitted their feelings, which he knew was no small feat for either of them, was Natasha. So he met her gaze again before wrapping one hand around the back of her head, threading his fingers into her hair before he raised his head and lightly kissed her again. To his slight surprise, he felt her smile into the action before she returned it.
When they pulled apart a few long minutes later, he didn't even have to look up to tell that they were now completely alone in the gym. Instead, he kept his eyes locked onto Natasha's smiling to himself when he saw the content and very amused affection in her gaze.
"That, Agent Barton, was horribly manipulative." she told him matter of factly, settling onto his chest very comfortably.
"Maybe. But it did work." he pointed out, letting out a long sigh as he played absent -mindedly with her hair as she laid on his chest.
"Right, so let me just make sure I'm understanding this situation correctly." Tony started after he, Steve, Thor and Bruce found themselves right back where they had left about fifteen minutes ago to see if Natasha was making any progress with Clint's attitude. He had a new glass of Scotch, Steve had yet to stop blushing, Bruce looked rather shocked, though Tony couldn't really fathom /why/, and Thor was beaming like an idiot. "Downsides: Barton is wallowing in a vat of self-loathing and guilt, and my future father-in-law may or not be an asshole. Upsides: Barton and Romanoff seem to have finally gotten together."
"That… Seems to pretty much sum it up, yeah." Bruce agreed lightly, deftly making himself a cup of tea in the kitchen.
Before Tony could continue as he had opened his mouth to do, JARVIS' voice sounded from above them.
'Sir, Ms. Potts is requesting your presence on the 57th floor.' the AI informed him and Tony gave a slight groan, but stood to move to the elevator.
"Alright, JARVIS, tell her I'm coming." he muttered, turning back to quickly refill his glass before walking away again. "Here's to hoping this ends well."
Steve and Thor gave grunts of agreement, while Bruce just sighed, which boded oh so well.
"Thanks for the confidence, guys." he deadpanned, pressing the button for the elevator sharply. He really did want it to end well. Because he loved Pepper, and he wanted her to be happy. But at the same time, he couldn't help the angry protectiveness that rose up in him on Clint's behalf. The archer had become akin to a brother; the entire team had grown into his family, and the last thing he would tolerate was them being hurt in any way, emotionally or physically. Not that he would ever, even under the threat of death, admit that outloud.
When he stepped off the elevator, he instantly moved over to the semi-circle of couches, where Pepper and her parents had set up, the older couple sitting across from their daughter.
"Have you managed to find Clint?" Pepper asked as he approached, and he smiled slightly at the honest concern in her tone, not that he expected any less from her.
"Natasha's talking to him." he said matter of factly, sitting down beside her and putting the arm that wasn't preoccupied with holding his drink around her shoulders. "Even so, I highly doubt we'll be seeing much of him, at least of the next few days. He's about as stubborn as I am, and he's got his issues."
Tony didn't point out that those issues stemmed from what was probably far more than the archer's fair share of guilt a distinct lack of confidence in his own worth. He wasn't as oblivious as everyone thought, he recognized that Clint always seemed to act as if he had something to prove. Something like the fact that he was deserving of his spot on the Avengers.
He looked away from Pepper to look over to Jack, considering him for a few beats before he spoke again. The older man still had an air of slight shock around him, but Tony couldn't see a single hint of regret or apology. Not that he expected to from what he'd already experienced of Jack's personality.
"Look, I get it. The guy's an assassin. And during the short time you knew him, he was on the wrong side. But you generally don't base your entire judgment of someone off a few weeks during what was probably one of the lowest points in his life. And to be perfectly honest, throwing his past in his face like an insult was kinda an assholish move." Pepper sighed at that, and Jack opened his mouth to respond, but Tony just held up a hand to stop him. "Let me finish. You are essentially a guest in his home. We all knew that he worked contracts, we all knew he'd been sent to prison for it. We also know that we trust him with our lives, and that he is the best marksman on the planet and that we wouldn't want anyone else in his spot. So if you'd be willing to just drop it, we can move on. I know Pepper is excited to have you here and be able to spend time with you."
After a few short moments, Jack sighed and nodded shortly, causing Pepper's shoulders to relax under Tony's arm, and Marie to smile slightly, taking her husband's arm and patting it approvingly.
"I'm still not saying I approve of what he does." Jack said matter of factly, and Tony resisted giving a long, drawn out groan, instead just giving a slight, invisible roll of his eyes.
"Luckily enough, we don't need you to." he said shortly.
Tony highly doubted this would be the last they heard of the issue, but for now he was content with letting it be.
"We'll let you get settled." Pepper said quickly, moving to stand and pulling Tony with her. "We'll show you around the city some tomorrow."
"That sounds wonderful." Marie said with a pointed nod to her daughter that Pepper probably got more out of than Tony did.
"Night." Tony offered lightly as he and Pepper waited for the elevator.
As soon as they were in the elevator, alone, and it had started up, Pepper turned to Tony and let her mortified expression show, shaking her head slowly.
"I am so sorry." she said, but Tony quickly shook his own head.
"Pep, it's not your fault. None of us could have known." he said firmly. "It'll work out. Just give Clint some time, he'll be fine."
He sincerely hoped his own words were true as he threw his arm casually over her shoulders again, not responding to her sigh.
Alright so there we have it. I hope I did the Clint/Natasha scene justice, but unfortunately I don't have that much experience writing romance, so PLEASE tell me what you thought of that. And I swear that that is pretty much the last romance-focused scene in the story, more action coming. (Yay!)
~Dogstar