AUTHOR'S NOTE: Once again, you all amaze me with all of the nice things that you have to say about the story. I'm truly grateful, and again want to thank everyone who has taken the time to review - it means a lot!
Now, regarding this chapter... I won't lie - it's not my favorite. I really struggled with wanting to include scenes that I felt were important, while having difficulty making them different and interesting in the context of this story. So, it may seem a little slow at times, but I felt I needed these scenes to progress the story. You will get the Clint/Natasha fight scene, however, so hopefully that will make up for it! And, the med-bay scene will take place in the next chapter, so maybe that will give you all something to look forward to.
In any case, thank you all reading Unmade. It makes it all the more fun to write.
Ut oh, Clint thought as he heard the distinctive sounds of shouting coming from the direction of the lab. Not good. At least, not when a man with - ahem - major anger management issues was present.
Finally reaching the door, Clint entered the lab with Thor right on his heels, only to hear Rogers, Stark, and Banner accusing Fury of lying to them.
Ah. So they had found out about Phase II, then.
"Did you know about this?" Banner asked him as he arrived, a flicker of betrayal flashing in the doctor's eyes. Banner's reaction and the following prickling feeling in Clint's gut made him realize that perhaps he had become closer to the men in this room than he had originally thought.
But, that didn't matter right now. This is exactly what Loki wanted - Banner on the edge. "You want to think about removing yourself from this environment, Doctor?" Clint asked calmly, trying to defuse the situation.
"I was in Calcutta, I was pretty well removed," Banner responded, his eyes accusatory.
"Loki's manipulating you," Clint told him, desperate to make Banner understand.
It wasn't working. "And you've been doing what, exactly?" Banner asked, cocking up an eyebrow.
Banner sure isn't making this easy, Clint thought, letting out a sigh of frustration. "Come on, now, Doctor. You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes at you," he deadpanned. Now, maybe if Natasha had recruited Banner, that might have been his reason for coming. But, befitting his style, Clint had gone with the more direct approach.
"Yes, and I'm not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy," Banner retorted. Twitchy? Well, that was a nice way of putting it. After that conversation with Loki, Clint felt a hell of a lot more than twitchy.
It wasn't long before everyone in the room erupted. Fury fighting with Thor, Rogers fighting with Stark, Banner seemingly pissed of at everyone...
Not. Good.
Clint remained silent and watchful, simply observing, his eyes specifically trained on the doctor. He understood how it felt, to find out that the organization you were risking your life for was keeping you in the dark, using you as a pawn. Yes, I know it all too well, Clint thought, remembering the situation with his brother.
The other men in this room hadn't had the time to come to grips with it like Clint had. Did he trust S.H.I.E.L.D.? No, not in the least bit. There was a lot he didn't know about the organization - hell, even Fury's secrets had secrets.
But did he believe in S.H.I.E.L.D.?
Yes. Yes, he did. After all, sometimes you had to get your hands dirty to make the world a better place. Sometimes, you just had to accept the red in your ledger.
It was the authority of Fury's voice that finally broke into his thoughts. "Agent Barton, would you escort Dr. Banner back to his-"
"Where? You're renting my room," Banner quipped sharply.
"The cell was just-"
"In case you needed to kill me, but you can't! I know... I tried." Banner told them, traces of self-deprecation evident in his tenor. "I got low, I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth - and the other guy spit it out. So I moved on, I focused on helping other people. I was good until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk," he said, once again looking at Clint. "You want to know my secret, Agent Barton? You want to know how I stay calm?" Banner asked, his volume getting louder with each word.
Clint tensed, sensing that Banner was a hair's breadth away from unleashing "the other guy". The doctor didn't even seem to be aware that he was now clutching Loki's scepter.
Clint's hands edged slowly toward his bow, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fury unhooking his gun. Not that it would do any good if Banner turned into the Hulk - Clint had seen the tapes of the green monster rampaging in Harlem.
"Dr. Banner, put down the scepter," Rogers ordered carefully, his words soon followed by a beeping sound. As the lab's computer began signaling that the search for the Tesseract was complete, the tension that had been boiling over in the room reduced to a mere simmer.
Banner put down the scepter and walked toward the computer monitor, with Clint closely following. If everyone wanted to rip each other's throats out, that was fine by him. Clint had bigger things to worry about, like finding the Tesseract, finding Natasha, and ending this ongoing nightmare.
"Sorry, kids. You don't get to see my party trick after all," Banner said, almost wistfully.
Like clockwork, Thor, Stark, and Rogers started bickering again, this time over who would be going after the Tesseract. Clint rolled his eyes as it eventually turned into a pissing match akin to the one that had taken place earlier in the woods.
"Oh, my God!" Banner suddenly exclaimed, staring intently at the computer monitor. But, before Clint could ask what was wrong, an explosion went off, sending him flying. Then, everything went black.
As his skull pounded with a feeling that Clint could only describe as fuck that hurts, Clint let out a pained moan. Dammit, his head sure hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. What the hell had just happened?
"Agent Barton! Report!" he heard Fury barking over his earpiece.
"Not so loud there, Director," Clint said with a wince. "I'm here with Banner," he disclosed after sweeping his eyes quickly around the room. "We're fine."
Well... now that he thought about it, "fine" might be a bit too optimistic. Clint was currently trapped under a heap of rubble, and the good doctor was writhing around and groaning mightily, clearly struggling not to morph into the Hulk.
"We're fine, right?" he asked the man beside him. But, it seemed that Banner was beyond hearing him.
They were most definitely not fine.
"Doctor?" he tried again, but to no avail. "Bruce, you've got to fight it. This is just what Loki wants. We're gonna be okay. Listen to me," Clint said soothingly, his words betraying no trace of the panic he currently felt. "We're going to be okay. Right? I swear on my life that I will get you out of this," he vowed. "You will walk away, and never-"
"Your life?" Banner snarled savagely in a voice that was only half his own.
Before Clint could even respond, the transformation began in earnest. Banner gave Clint one final look, his eyes still human in that fleeting moment, apologetic, and full of sorrow.
"Bruce..." Clint pleaded, but it was too late. The doctor was gone, and only a monster remained in his place - one that was more terrifying than Clint could have ever imagined.
Shit. He had to get out of here.
With what seemed like a Herculean effort, Clint managed to free himself from the rubble and took off running, the Hulk raging behind him. Clint knew that the only way he'd be able to survive would be if he could outrun Banner, and considering the speed at which the green monster could charge, it seemed unlikely that he'd get out of this alive.
Is this it for me, then, Natasha? he wondered. Is this how I'm going to go out? Well, then... that pretty much sucks, he thought miserably. But, instead of his life flashing before his eyes, all he saw was her, and the regret that filled him in that moment was so acute that it hit him even more profoundly than his current fear. There was just so, so much regret. Regret that he didn't free her from Loki's spell… regret that he never truly tried to explore their relationship on a deeper level. Regret that he never told her... he never told her that he...
Well, fuck, Clint thought as he sprinted frantically down a corridor, finally letting the feelings that he had always kept buried and compartmentalized rush to the surface, overwhelming him in their intensity.
After all, it's not every day you come to realize that you've fallen in love with the deadliest spy on the planet. Understandably, even if on some level he had known it all along, it was kind of a shock to his system.
And when the Hulk swatted Clint aside like a mere insect, sending him flying into a wall, he closed his eyes and let his mind conjure up the beautiful features that he knew so well, better than even his own.
It was with Natasha as his last thought that Clint waited for the Hulk to strike the killing blow.
But, it never came.
By the grace of God - well, literally, a god, Clint supposed - Thor came out of nowhere, like a bullet, and tackled the Hulk through the adjoining wall.
Finally able to breathe again, Clint couldn't bring himself to do much more than shake with relief.
Huddled near the vents, Clint was recovering both physically and mentally from almost being smashed into bits by the Hulk. Surprisingly, it was the latter that proved to be more difficult.
A familiar voice chirped into his earpiece, but Fury sounded more rattled than Clint was used to hearing him. Of course, it could have had something to do with the fact that the ship was rapidly losing altitude and they were probably all going to die.
"It's Romanoff... she took out our systems," Fury said, and Clint inhaled sharply. Natasha... He should have guessed that she was here. Who else could have wrought havoc on S.H.I.E.L.D. so effectively?
"She's headed for the detention lab. Does anybody copy?"
After a slight pause, Clint said, "This is Agent Barton. I copy."
And, as if it had been destined to be a face-off between Clint and Natasha all along, the moment he'd been both dreading and aching for had finally come.
I told you that I'd come for you, Natasha. Time to free you from that bastard once and for all.
Perching himself up on higher ground, a position befitting to the Hawk, Clint watched as Natasha strode down the catwalk purposefully. It had been over six months since he'd last laid eyes on her, and he quickly assessed the changes in her appearance.
Her hair was shorter now, a lighter shade of red, and her curls were less defined. But, despite the differences, it wasn't her hair that drew his attention. It was when he saw her eyes, blue and cold and soulless instead of brown and warm and captivating, that alarm seized him.
No matter how hard he looked, even with his unparalleled vision, he couldn't see his Natasha anywhere in those eyes - and that scared him. Fortunately, he didn't have time to let the matter distress him any longer, as the window for taking action was closing. Clint had to stop her from reaching Loki, and the only way to do that without killing her was to incapacitate her. After that, well - he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
Of course, he couldn't just shoot her with an arrow - he didn't want to hurt her, after all - so, it seemed likely that this was going to turn into a fistfight.
Although Clint was highly skilled when it came to hand-to-hand combat, he knew that Natasha had the advantage over him in that style of fighting. Therefore, in order to defeat her, he had to find a way to put them on an even playing field.
Pulling out his bow and changing the setting in his quiver, Clint shot an arrow so that it landed a few feet in front of her, releasing a green, noxious sleeping agent.
He heard her cough violently as she inhaled some of the gas, but Natasha quickly rolled away from the fumes before they could render her unconscious.
Still, Clint knew that her senses would be dulled, that she'd be slower and not as sharp as usual. Now he had the upper hand, and he'd be sure not to let it go to waste.
As Natasha continued to cough, Clint swung down toward her, like an Olympic gymnast on the uneven bars, and kicked her in the stomach as he descended. She went reeling backward to the ground, but soon recovered, using acrobatics to jump back up to a standing position.
Natasha rushed forward to attack, attempting to immobilize him with her Widow's Bite, but thanks to the sleeping gas, Clint's reflexes were faster. He dodged her easily with the help of his bow, and then landed a quick elbow to her sternum.
Yet, the Black Widow is one of many talents, and sensing that she was at a disadvantage, she pulled yet another weapon out of her arsenal.
"Why are you fighting me, Agent Barton?" she asked, her tone soft and vulnerable. Clint wasn't used to hearing Natasha sound that vulnerable, and it disconcerted him. "I thought we were partners... I thought you were my fri-"
"Don't!" Clint growled, cutting her off. Her words sliced through him like a hot knife, and for an agonizing second, he wondered if he had been wrong - if his Natasha really was somewhere in those cold eyes...
"Please help me," she begged, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "I'm trying to fight this, to fight Loki's hold over me, but it just hurts so much. I can't... it hurts... won't you help me?" she pleaded, sounding scared and in pain.
Her words tugged at him, resonating strongly with his natural instinct to protect her, and Clint was so close to saying yes, so close to dropping his guard - he could deny Natasha nothing, after all - when Loki's poisonous words pierced through his mind.
"I'll make her kill you. Slowly, intimately, in every way she knows you fear. And then she'll wake just long enough to see her good work, and when she screams I'll split her skull!"
Trembling slightly at how close Loki's bargain was to becoming true, Clint knew then, without a doubt, that he had to be strong in his resolve.
"Please... all I want is to be with you," Natasha told him, inching closer. "Isn't this what you've always wanted?" she drawled slowly, subtly running her hands down the length of her body. "Don't you want me?" she continued, her voice nothing but a soft purr.
Clint smiled ruefully. He'd dreamed of Natasha seducing him more times than he could count, but this sick perversion of his fantasies seemed more like a nightmare.
"Sorry, sweetheart," he said, his voice deep and gritty. "But you're not the one I want."
Grabbing his bow, he swung it at her forcefully, sending her flying once again. This time, though, her head connected with the railing, momentarily stunning her.
On her knees, Natasha looked up at him, her eyes still clouded with traces of Loki's magic. "Clint?" she asked thickly, sounding discombobulated.
This time, Clint flinched. He could finally see a small indication of her, his Natasha, which should have filled him with relief. But, considering what he had to do, he felt nothing but horror. "Forgive me, Tasha," he said sadly, and then punched her in the face, knocking her unconscious.
Lifting her limp body up into his arms, he cradled her head gently into his chest. "Come back to me," he whispered softly into her ear. Kissing her on the cheek in the same spot where his fist had landed, he then carried her toward the med-bay.
When Fury announced Agent Coulson's death over the loudspeaker only minutes later, Clint held Natasha to him tightly and cried silently into her hair.
To be continued...
And yes, my streak of chapters continuing to get longer has continued, in case you were wondering. This chapter is actually half as long as the previous three chapters combined!
Anyway please review and let me know what you think if you have the time, I would really appreciate it! :-)