A/N: I know, I listed the story as 'complete' but soo many people messaged me saying to continue on with it and an idea popped into my head so I'm going to do a couple more chapters... I hope you like it
The song to listen to for this chapter that always makes me cry is Pictures of You- Angie Hart ( watch?v=QoqpBOXCzgY), it was used in a very sad drunk driving ad in Australia and if you have a chance, go search it up on YouTube, it really gives depth to the song.
Please R&R, it really means a lot to me :)
Clint had invited her for dinner at the farmhouse and she grudgingly accepted, knowing that Clint would pester her until she did. She turned off her car engine and sat for a moment in silence, staring up at the farmhouse which was softly illuminated by the setting sun. Every time she came her, it served as a cold reminder of the life she gave up and it was lucky than she'd become so accustomed to putting on a happy mask, because she knew no normal person would be able to still be friends with Clint after all the emotional trauma he'd caused her, unknowingly.
She locked her vehicle and slowly made her way up the small garden path, preparing herself mentally for the evening. As she stepped up the rickety wooden steps onto the deck, she took a deep breath, once again suppressing all the memories she so desperately wanted to move on from as they were too painful to deal with.
As she reached up to knock on the door, it swung up to reveal Clint's daughter beaming up at her with a toothless grin.
'AUNTIE NAT!'
She put on a brave smile and braced herself as the small girl launched herself into her arms. She hugged the girl tightly, rubbing her back, 'Hey baby Barton, how's my favourite girl?'
As the girl continued to tell her 'auntie' about kindergarten, Natasha swallowed the huge lump of emotions in her throat and carried the small girl through the door, spotting Clint emerging from the kitchen to greet her.
'Oi monkey, Auntie Nat is not a tree.' He quickly grabbed the girl off of his partner, tickling her sides and she squealed before wriggling out of his arms and running away.
Clint looked up at her, shooting her a grin and Natasha swears something inside her heart just died a little, 'Hey Nat, how're you doing?' He leant forward and placed a familiar kiss on her cheek before motioning her towards the kitchen, continuing to tell her about how obnoxious this weeks paperwork for their mission was and how it took hours to complete.
She slowly lifted a hand to brush her fingertips where his lips had been moments ago, feeling her heart beating fast in her chest, trying to convince herself that his affect on her had long since been dissolved, with no luck.
He turned to look at her and she quickly dropped her hand and hurried to catch with him, putting her famous emotionless mask in place.
They came to the kitchen and Natasha spotted Laura teaching their son how to cook pasta, a dish towel through carelessly over her shoulder. It had been years since the two had met but Natasha still held a silent grudge against the women, not because she wasn't nice, more because she had everything Natasha had ever wanted, and still wanted.
Laura looked up at the pair smiling, 'Hey Nat, dinner will be ready soon,' She turned to rub her son's cheek with amused affection, 'just teaching someone how to cook, which is taking a bit longer than I expected.'
'Mum!'
Laura chuckled before turning to Nicole, 'Darling, go wash your hands before dinner and then come back to help set the table.'
Nicole rolled her eyes, 'Yes mum.'
Clint chuckled besides her and Natasha turned to whisper to him, 'She's definitely your daughter.'
He sent a bemused grin at her before nudging her shoulder, 'Come on, I've got something for you.'
She raised an eyebrow before silently following him up the staircase.
They entered his spare bedroom and he made his way over to the closet, and she situated herself on the bed she used whenever she had to stay the night.
'So I found this box of stuff from when we moved from my old place in June, I just chucked a bunch of stuff in here that I didn't have time to sort out 'cause I left everything to the last minute as usual,' she grinned at the thought and watch him curiously as he reached up to the top shelf and heaved the cardboard box onto the ground at the base of the bed before continuing, 'and I found a bunch of stuff from before my accident.' He gently emptied the box of its contents and Natasha slid onto the floor beside him to look at the things inside.
Natasha looked over them hesitantly as Clint continued on, 'I grabbed a couple of things that were familiar, my notebook, some old ticket stubs, mementos from my childhood, but I found this and don't quite remember why I had it and thought you might know.' He lifted a small tin box from the bigger box and handed it to her.
She took it into her hands and gently lifted the lid to see what was inside, taking a sharp breath when she did.
Little did Clint know, but this tin box held mementos of Natasha and his brief but passionate relationship; everything from ticket stubs from the carnival date to the pressed flower she'd jokingly given to him on one of their missions where they'd been stranded at a deserted flower shop. She felt her heart leap into her throat as she inspected each item, amazed that Clint had kept each of these.
Clint watched her curiously, 'So what are they?'
She swallowed before answering in a small voice, 'Just things I gave you over the years.'
He was silent before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small black velvet from the cardboard box, 'I also found this.' He opened the box to reveal a small silver ring with a square cut diamond on it. Natasha hands were shaking as she gently took the small box from him and cradled it in her hands, on the brink of tears.
'Nat, was I in a relationship with anyone that I should know about? Because if that's what I think it is then I should probably know about it.'
The ring was her. She just knew it was meant for her.
She took a shaky breath. They'd been together for 6 months, and she hadn't expected Clint to ask her to marry her. She'd always thought one of them would be killed in action before they'd had the chance and now, well, one of them may as well have been.
'Not that I know of.'
He hummed in response placing the ring in front of her, 'Well, you may as well keep it, I don't need it.'
She felt her heart break at his innocent words, closing her eyes in pain.
If only he knew.
'Oh, there's a bunch of photos at the bottom of the tin you might want. They're of us, I don't know who took them but I'm suspecting Coulson. I grabbed a couple to put up on the mantle but I thought you might like the rest.'
She said nothing, knowing her voice would betray her if she did. She faintly heard Laura calling them to dinner but knew she would never be able to make it through the meal without crying. She hastily picked up the velvet box and the larger tin box before saying a hasty goodbye to Clint, ignoring his protests to stay, bolted out of the room and ran down the stairs, throwing a hurried apology, lying that Fury had called her and she was needed at base before running out the front door.
She ignored Clint's shouts as he tried to catch up to her but she was too quick, unlatching her car door and igniting the engine quickly, trying to ignore the tears streaming down her cheeks. She swerved the car onto their dirt path, refusing to look into the review mirror to seen Clint's confused form standing in the middle of the road, staring after her retreating vehicle.
She burst through her apartment door, not even attempting to hold back the sobs. She hurriedly made her way to the kitchen, reaching to the top shelf to grab the bottle of vodka that she knew was there and quickly cast the lid aside before taking a large scull to try and calm herself down. After downing two more gulps she placed it onto the table, removing her jacket, feeling like her body was on fire. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, not knowing how to cope with these intense emotions.
She slid her back down the kitchen cupboards until she was curled up into a ball, resting her head on her knees and trying to suppress her sobs. This was too much.
She looked over to her jacket and spotted the tin box glinting in the light and hesitantly reached over to grab it. She pulled it into her lap and gently removed the lid, wiping her eyes hastily. After removing the contents, she unwrapped the bands from around the pile of photos before looking at each of them.
Clint looking over at her during training, both of them grinning evilly at each other.
Her holding Clint in a thigh deadlock, laughing at his tortured expression.
Clint passed out on her shoulder, her sleepy head resting on top of his, taken during an especially pointlessly long briefing after they had come back from a month-long mission.
Clint and her mid-fight, back to back, her in a strapless black gown, bloodied and torn at the side to reveal her thigh holster and he in his in a tuxe, both of them bloodied and bruised and staring determinedly around them, shooting at their enemies.
She don't where these came from but her hands shook as she leafed through the rest of them, no longer trying to hide back her tears.
She heard her phone buzz and leant over to see who'd messaged her:
I don't know why you left but I hope you're ok, and I'm sorry if something I said offended you.
C.
She swore in Russian before violently throwing her phone at her wall, taking satisfaction in watching it smash to pieces. Her body was exhausted from dealing with emotions and she was sick of it. She didn't want to feel like this, she was the bloody Black Widow. She was better than this.
But as she gazed down at the only photos that held her Clint, she couldn't help but feel like her life was over. It had been over the moment he'd met Laura in the hospital and though it might sound cliché, she knew it was because Clint was her life. He'd saved her from the horrible life she'd lived as a Red Room assassin and she knew she owed her sanity to him. He'd taught her to enjoy life to the fullest, to enjoy the beauty it held; music, art, love. Love. His love.
She gathered the photos to her chest and rested her head onto her knees once more, no longer stopping the constant stream of tears down her face, tears for life that could've been.
If someone asked her right now what her biggest wish would be, it would be for just one more embrace, one more kiss from her Clint, just one more. But it wasn't possible, her Clint was never coming back.
Clint had a family now, what did she have?
Pictures.
All she had were pictures, and a ring.
A ring that was meant for her but never came.
A/N: So don't worry, I too was a crying mess as I wrote this because I hate to write about my fav pairing like this but it came into my head after watching Age of Ultron and the weird relationship that was BruceNat, i had to find a reason why my two favourite characters would not get together after their chemistry in the first Avengers film. Unfortunately, this sad story is what I came up with.
I hope you liked it, I'll post the third (and maybe last, depending what I decide and how you guys react to it) chapter as soon as I can.
Please R&R, it really means a lot to me when you guys give me feedback, thanks for reading!
C xx