Jeez! All ya'll jumped on that last chapter like white on rice. Wow…just wow.

Thanks guys! I love you all so, so much! 3

Clint jolted awake when someone kicked the leg of his chair.

"huh? Wha-" He sat up straight, looking about to get his bearings. Weiss stood over him holding a cup of coffee and a book, looking wholly unimpressed with Clint's reaction.

"Aren't you supposed to be some badass assassin? You let an old man like me take you by surprise? Boy, SHIELD sure has lowered its standards."

Clint groaned, stretching out his muscles and rubbing the back of his hand against his eyes. "What time is it?" he stifled a yawn.

"Late."

Clint stood to further stretch, and then quickly moved to Natasha's side to check her over. She was still pale as a ghost, and his palm against her head informed him that he fever still hadn't broken. He cursed under his breath, for all his talk he was at a loss for how to help her. The doctors of SHIELD, the best in their fields didn't know what to do. What help could a burned out carnie do?

"Thought you could use a break." Weiss's gruff voice cut into his reverie.

"Thanks." Clint ran a hand through his hair and gratefully reached for the cup of coffee.

Weiss pulled it away. "This is mine. You want some coffee? Go got it yourself."

Clint looked taken aback, he hadn't expected that. "And while you're at it, go get something to eat. You've been sitting on your ass in here all day. I bet you haven't eaten since breakfast, and we all know you're a bottomless pit."

Clint stared, dumfounded, as Weiss stole his seat and produced a pair of reading glasses. He cracked the book open and squinted at the page, and read off a few sentences in Russian like an old grandfather reading to a sick child.

He paused to look up at Clint, raising an eyebrow and making a shooing motion with is hand before resuming the story. Clint slowly recovered from his shock, shaking his head slightly and headed for the door.

"Some deodorant wouldn't go amiss either." Weiss added without looking up from the book. Clint had a small smile as he made his way to the mess hall.

Turns out it wasn't late, it was early. The halls were practically deserted, for which he was grateful. One snide look or remark from someone and he was liable to break their nose. He'd never been stationed at the Hungarian base for any long term assignment, so he didn't know many people, but they pretty much all knew who he was. Hawkeye, ace marksman and legendary pain in the ass.

They had been fairly welcoming to him, but their attitudes toward Natasha quickly got on his nerves. He didn't expect them to be her friend, but they could at least play nice and try to be genuinely polite. Their reaction to her condition was the last fucking straw. If…when she recovered, he was gonna convince Coulson to transfer both of them to the base in New York or Washington.

He stopped by the mess hall to grab something to munch on. Foregoing the mug, he took the entire coffee pot with him back to Natasha's room. One of the medical personnel along the way looked like they had a mind to prevent him from going in, as it was long after visiting hours and he wasn't family, but must have thought better of it at the last second. It's not that Clint was actively trying to be intimidating, that's just the way his face was. That, and everyone knew he wasn't one to take "no" for an answer.

He seated himself on the side table next to Natasha with his feet propped up on the edge of her bed. He settled in, content to munch while Weiss continued to read out loud in Russian. He didn't understand most of it, Russian was not his best language, but Weiss's voice was soothing, his inflection somehow painting the story and making the actual word irrelevant. It was almost a perfect moment.

He glanced down at Natasha. Now if only she'd open her damn eyes, if only for a moment to level one of her frightening glare at him, it'd be all the reassurance he needed.

She's not afraid of the dark. It has been a friend of hers for a long time, protecting her and allowing her to do her job, her duty. Can't be afraid of things that go bump in the night, not when they're your own kin.

But there was a time, long ago, when she was afraid, back before she had understood the kind of power she wielded. Here, time had no definition and the darkness never ended. One moment she was grown, strong and unshakable. Next, she was a tiny child, gifted in dancing and little else. The inky blackness easily overwhelms that child.

Dawn finally broke over the barren wasteland. The cold night had been unbearable; she thought for certain she would die. Umnaya devushka, clever girl they called her. She worked hard and sought only to please, but if they were they never showed it.

There was a howl in the distance, drawing a whimper from the small girl. She clamped her hands over her mouth, but it didn't matter, they had her scent and had been following her all night.

There were stories about wolves and little girls in red.

All of a sudden there she was staring one down. Its lips pulled back to reveal a gruesome smile and let out a frightening growl. She ran for it, bounding to the nearest tree and scrambling up its branches. It chased her, snarling and snapping at her. Sobbing, she clung to the tree for dear life.

A gunshot rang through the air, and the wolf fell to the ground and didn't move again. A figure appeared in a heavy coat and ushanka, carrying a hunting rifle. A few more shots were fired off, felling another wolf and frightening off the rest.

"Come down little one, it's quite safe now." she eyed him wearily and didn't move a muscle. She wasn't going to go back; they would have to drag her kicking and screaming.

"Have you been out here all night?" she remained silent, looking down on him from her perch. He looked around, searching for where she might have come from. "Do you live around here?" still no response. "well…I've a warm fire and some fresh meat back home. You're welcome to some of it. he took a moment, looking up at her from under his thick grey eyebrows. "It's not far from here, just a mile or so that way." he added, jerking his head to indicate the direction.

He started in the direction of his home, pausing to look back at her. She still had not budged. Sighing, he continued on. When he was nearly out of sight, she dropped from the tree. He paused mid-step, as if he heard her, and she froze. He continued on again without looking back. If she had been able to see his face, she would have seen a small smile pull at his lips.

She followed at a distance; ready to run at the slightest hint he might be trying to lure her back. He led her to a cozy little cabin with smoke climbing up from the chimney. The thought of a warm fire made her realize just how cold she was. Her fingers and toes had gone numb and at the thought of a hot meal her stomach grumbled audibly.

He left the door open as he entered and she crept up to it to peer inside. The man pulled off his outer layers and produced a roast from the oven. She took a couple steps in, relishing in the heat and eyeing the knife he used to carve the meat.

He gave her a friendly smile when he noticed her standing in the doorway. "shut the door little one, you're letting out all the warm air." she glanced outside toward the cold unwelcoming tundra, and then back at the warm fireplace, weighing her options.

What harm would there be in staying to warm up? Eat a meal and swipe some provisions, possibly a map. She'd lost her way in the dark and if she wanted to survive she needed to know where she was going.

She moved toward the fireplace, keeping distance between her and the man. She peeled off her gloves and held out her hands to the fire. Its warmth was delicious and she allowed her eyes to slide closed and a happy sigh slipped out.

He pressed a plate full of warm meat into her hands and sat down in an arm chair and acceptable distance away to eat his own food. She looked down at the food cautiously.

"Eat little one."

She nibbled on it experimentally, and finding it tolerable, tucked in with gusto. He let her eat a second and third helping. With her tummy full and the feeling returned to her extremities, sleep began to pull at her. She had spent the last two days avoiding search parties and wolves, running on adrenaline alone, now she was all out of gas.

Her host pulled out a book and began to read softly. The rhythm of his words lulled her to sleep. For the first time in a long while, she slept peacefully and woke feeling warm and safe.

Her fingers twitched slightly within his grasp, causing Clint to return all four legs of his chair back on the ground. He turned in his chair to look at her face, and to his amazement, found crystal blue eyes staring back at him