I everybody! Thanks so much for hanging in there. I know the wait for this chapter was a long one.
Alright, so I am dealing with a LOT of stuff on this chapter. I think I did an okay job of it, but y'all get to be the judges.
Hope you like it :)
Natasha doesn't sleep all that much, so naturally people assume that she suffers from horrific nightmares. Comes with the territory.
In truth, she doesn't have a hard time sleeping. When she was younger, sure; the things she'd seen as a young girl were enough to give anyone nightmares. After a while though, skin gets thick and walls become impenetrable. Regret can be exhausting. What's done is done. She learned to put it behind her, to bury where it can never be found again.
She'd be damned of if she was going to allow the red in her ledger keep her from getting the rest she needed to do her job effectively.
Sleep and work she could handle. It was the in between moments that she couldn't seem to take any more; the part where she was supposed to "live her own life" as Fury told her. It was being left alone with her own thoughts and idle hands that got to her.
After Budapest, Fury quickly had her transferred to New York, under his direct command. Coulson and Barton had followed shortly after Barton's release from the Hospital. She had been surprised that the World Security Council that headed SHILED hadn't been calling for her head. Surely they saw her as a liability, though she wouldn't be surprise of Fury simply told them to go fuck themselves.
In fact, no one breathed a word to her about the possibility of her involvement in the attack. The only one who had come close was Coulson; she'd seen it in his eyes the day of the attack.
Bile rose in her throat at the thought of it. Barton wrapping himself around her, the shuddering of his body against hers, his warm blood spilling over her hands and on the ground…
You're my best friend.
"Ms. Romanov?" Agent Hill's voice cut through her thoughts, snapping her attention back to the present.
Fuck. So much for not dwelling on regrets.
"Yes?" she made her voice even, meeting Hill's gaze calmly.
"You have two weeks leave. Get some rest. You are dismissed." Hill looked annoyed at having to repeat herself. Zoning out during a debriefing, worse, she was caught red handed by her superior. She'd definitely been spending too much time with Barton.
She opened her mouth the protest, the down time would drive her crazy, but Fury cut her off. "Every field agent gets two weeks mandatory leave every six months. You are long overdue. Be glad I'm not making you take an entire month. Dismissed." His tone allowed for no argument, so she gave him a curt nod and left.
Damn.
Not two steps out the door, she was ambushed by an over grown nine-year-old with blond hair, purple converse, and an over excited grin. This was the last thing she needed.
This may be the most dangerous mission he'd ever undertaken to date, but he was determined to see it through.
Commencing: Operation Lemur.
Natasha had recently been taking as many missions as she was allowed and avoided him like the plague. He'd taken to sneaking up on her and then forcing her into a card game or something. He'd coax her into forgetting that she was trying her darnedest pretend she didn't care.
She was driving him up a fucking wall. One moment she was completely pleasant and joking with him and everything was as good between them as it ever had been. Then she'd do a complete one-eighty, shut down, and run away. And it was getting worse instead of better. She reminded him of that annoyingly catchy song that all the kids were singing a few years back.
He decided she needed a change of scenery. Almost three months he'd been dealing with this. Well, the buck stops here.
He bribed/threatened Sitwell into divulging when Natasha would get in and was waiting for her outside the conference room. She'd been up all night and probably wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep away the rest of the day. It might count as fighting dirty, and a tiny bit cruel, but he pounced on her immediately. If she was tired, she couldn't fight back as hard. Besides, the worst thing you could do for jet lag was go to sleep right away, right?
She barely managed to stifle a groan when she laid eyes on him, which made him grin.
"Barton-" it was always fucking Barton with her these days, he was getting sick of it.
"Come on Tasha! It's Ten o'clock in the morning! And it a beautiful day outside!" his bright smile and chipper tone was met with a less than enthusiastic frown. Before she could manage to muster a glare, he grabbed her by the arm, dragging her toward the parking garage.
"Barton, where-"
"We're going out; it's about time I showed you around the Big Apple. Also, I have a bet going with some of the newbies as to whether or not you will turn to ash in direct sunlight."
She didn't look amused at all…like he said- this may be the most dangerous mission he'd ever undertaken. A tired and grouchy Tasha was potentially a very dangerous have-no-mercy-take-no-prisoners-Tasha. Hopefully, if he got her out around lots of people and cute little children, she would refrain from killing him in an especially brutal way.
Then again… He took in her uninviting scowl that she wan't even trying to hide. This might back fire…
"Would you at least let me grab a shower and get changed first?" She ground out through clench teeth.
He stopped for a moment to take in her black cat suit. "Why? What wrong with what you have on?" he smiled innocently.
Sheesh…If looks could kill…
"Alright fine," he conceded and changed direction toward the dormitories, never releasing her from his grasp.
Natasha took her sweet time digging out her room key and getting open the door. He pushed into her small room and plopped down on her bed; not risking that she might shut the door on him and lock him out. He looked at her expectantly. She scowled and gathered a change of clothes, slamming the bathroom door behind her with more force than necessary.
While he waited, he flipped through a novel that was on her night stand that appeared to be…French maybe? Twenty minutes later she still had not reappeared, so he decided to pound on the door to encourage her to hurry up.
"Come on Tasha! We don't have all da-"
The door opened to reveal an irritated Russian with dripping red hair.
Barton, you idiot! This is a terrible idea! No way you will live to see tomorrow.
Well, too late to turn back now. Smiling with more confidence than he felt, he tossed the book over his shoulder, earning a glare, and yanked her once more toward the parking garage. She scowled the entire way there, but didn't resist. That was a good sign right?
An hour later, Natasha found herself being lead through the Bronx Zoo by the enthusiastic archer, who apparently thought it was fun to caper around in forty degree weather looking at caged animals.
He had the audacity to look at her in confusion as she stood there shivering in just jeans and a t-shirt.
"Are you cold? Why didn't you bring a jacket silly?"
Really? unbelievable.
"Well, maybe if someone hadn't dragged me out of my room, right out of the shower, without a word as to where we were going. Let alone give me the chance to grab a jacket." She fumed at him. She had the decency to look at least a little sheepish, but she had to walk away to keep from decking him. "dammit Barton! Was it really too much to ask to for a little peace and quiet?"
He came up behind her, startling her slightly, and settled his jacket around her shoulders, still warm from his body. She tensed as he stepped into her space and gently rubbed hands his along her arms to warm her up.
"I'm sorry," he said in a soft voice that made all of her anger vanish. Damn, how does he do that? "I thought this would be fun and relaxing, and I just think you deserve a little fun."
"Come on," he steered her toward an indoor exhibit. "Let's go inside for a little while, get warmed up and then we can go." He sounded utterly dejected, and it felt like a dagger in the chest. This was a first. No matter how many time she had rebuffed him or rudely pushed him away, he'd come back again with a smile and his winning charm all the way, completely undeterred.
How many times in the last three months had she wished he would just give up? Stop trying to be her friend and just let her do her job. She just wanted to do her job and not get attached. Attachments get messy. She just wanted him to give up the claim he thought he had on her and leave her be.
They wandered through a jungle exhibit in uncomfortable silence, avoiding each other's gaze.
Clint seemed to have given up trying to get her excited about the animals, but it didn't stop him from looking around. He was still tense, glancing uncertainly at her from time to time, but he'd find an animal he liked and stare at it with a stupid little smile on his face. In front of the alligators, he got into an animated conversation with a little boy.
Natasha allowed herself to smile slightly at the sight of a six-year-old educating a world weary assassin about the differences between an alligator and a crocodile. Clint asked questions, indulging the kid, who excitedly spouted off all the information he had ever learned about the topic. Clint looked up at her and his grin grew even broader.
Shit.
She quickly schooled her expression and looked away in an attempt to look indifferent, but the damage was already done. She could practically see the spark of hope reignite behind his eyes. The kid's dad finally pulled him away and Clint was at her side in an instant, clasping her hand in his and pulling her, more gently this time, along with him to the next exhibit.
"Hey look at these!" he gave her that puppy dog smile, and steered her toward an entire wall of spiders. Natasha stopped short and pulled back.
Gross.
She fucking hated spiders. She could deal with them if she had to, but no way in hell was she going to voluntarily stare at the creepy little devils. Noticing her hesitation, Clint smiled widely.
"Really Tasha? You're scared of spiders?" he looked positively gleeful to discover this little bit of information.
"I'm not scared of them Barton. I just find them disgusting." She scowled.
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he pounced on her, grabbing her around the waist and half carried her toward the nearest caged spider.
Fucking asshole.
Refusing to the girl who squeals and squirms to escape an unpleasant fate, she didn't resist overly much. Clint held her firmly and rested his chin on her shoulder to see around her, watching the disgusting creature with rapt fascination. Off to their side, an older couple smiled at them, the woman leaning over to comment on "how cute of a couple" they made.
She was going to kill him.
"Look Tasha!" Clint's childlike excitement drew her attention back to spider.
It's funny how the smallest thing can drudge up all the crap you've like to keep buried, like seeing a little black and red spider in a glass box catch an unfortunate bug in its web. It wrapped up its prize to save for later and she suddenly couldn't breathe; as if she were the one wrapped up tightly in the spider's silk.
cold, dead eyes staring back at her.
Papa…no. Ivan handing her back over to the Red Room.
That little girl, screaming and crying as flames licked at her skin.
Weiss's choking on air as his filled with blood.
Clint…
The hot air of the fake rain forest was suddenly suffocating. Fighting back a sudden, unexpected panic, she broke Clint's hold on her and fled.
Dammit Barton!
She had been completely fine, had even been smiling a little. Well…In truth she had been scowling, but he was pretty sure it was just to hide a smile. She could be so damn stubborn.
Just when he was thinking he could get used to hold the pretty red head in his arms more often, she went stiff as a board. Next thing he knew he had an elbow in his gut and she was gone.
He found her outside in a deserted area, bent over and gasping desperately for breath. He approached her cautiously, taking slow deliberate steps, doubting himself. This had been a terrible idea. He should have just left her be. Let he catch up on her sleep and then bug her ion the morning.
"Tasha?"
She glanced up at him, her face a mixture of panic, confusion, and pain. The kind of pain he didn't think she knew how to deal with. Tears streamed down her face and she choked on broken sobs that she tried to suppress by holding her breath, only to have them break free like a wave breaking against a rock, shaking her entire body.
He'd been waiting for her to break, but he hadn't expected it to be quite like this. Maybe a quiet moment of sadness where she opened up to him, like she did when she gave him dancing lessons; or at least for her to stop acting like their friendship was more of an annoyance and liability rather than something that was beneficial and was actually something she needed and counted on. Everyone had their breaking point though; bottle things up inside long enough and it's bound to explode eventually. Natasha no doubt had a lifetime worth of hurt and regret pent up, and was now surrounded for the first time in her life by people who didn't see it as a weakness to actually acknowledge emotions.
It was too much. She didn't know how to cope. She had never had to before.
Instinctively, he stepped in close to take her in his arms, addressing her in a low smooth voice. "It's okay Tasha, shhh-"
"Don't-" she pulled back sharply, taking a deep breath in an attempt to regain composure. "-treat me like a child." She fumed through clenched teeth, still fighting desperately to regain control. She turned her back to him, wiping furiously at the wetness on her cheeks and growling in frustration.
"Just let it out," he gestured with his hands, "just flow like…uh..a river." Through all her turmoil she still managed to give him a wry look, letting him know exactly what she thought of his "flow like a river" bullshit.
She turned on heel and walked briskly past him down the empty path, rolling her shoulders and taking deep breaths in an attempt to shake off the hysteria. He followed behind her, intent on coaching her though the ordeal.
"This is good, just get it out. Yell. Scream. Whatever." She growled in frustration. "Will it help is I cried with you." There's that look again. "You lost a friend Tasha-"
"Stop calling me that!"
"We lost a friend. It's okay to be upset. It's natural. Not dealing with it is unhealthy. You can't do that to yourself Tasha! You gotta let go of it sometime."
She snarled ferociously, and swung at him. He evaded her, and ran to catch up with her once again as she plowed on down the path, going nowhere in particular.
"Leave me alone!"
"Not a chance!"
She growled, whirling on him and knocking him to the ground with a vicious blow to his sternum. He was technically all healed up from his wounds, although he wasn't in fighting shape quite yet, and he might have played up his pain a little bit, clutching at his chest in feigned pain; but Natasha gasped down at him in shock as she realized what she'd done.
She was by his side in an instant, kneeling over him with her hand on his cheek and eyes full of concern.
"Clint?"
He couldn't help the triumphant grin that spread across his face. She gave him a confused, he eye shining beautifully from tears and her cheeks red from the cold and crying. He couldn't help it, he pulled her down to kiss her, holding her firmly against him, and then quickly releasing her and bracing for the inevitable indignant blow. It was totally worth it.
Instead, she took in a shaky breath; her face hovering just over his she searched his eyes intently, as if she wasn't sure what to do.
Confident now that she wasn't doing to hit him, he sat up fully to cup her face in his hand. She froze at his touch "Tasha." He sighed, barely audible.
Just when he thought she was going to pull away and shut down once more, she sank into him to bury her face in his shoulder and cry.
On the drive back, she fell asleep in the passenger seat, wrapped up in his SHIELD issued jacket, her hand firmly clasped his, and a soft serene smile playing at her lips.
Alright, so there you have it.
Let me know what you think! I think I'm just going to leave it here. There might be an Epilogue, which to be honest will probably be shameless Clintasha fluff, but I really can't think of where else to take it. I tried to focus more on the journey of the characters and their relationship with each other more than anything else and I think I got them where I intended them to end up for this story.