A/N- Sorry I didn't update over the weekend, I was in Florida for stuff and didn't have time to go on the computer. Without further ado, here's chapter 5!
There was an intense pressure in his chest, focusing all the force in the world on his heart. He fought the pain with everything he had, but it just got worse. His head felt like it was going to split open, and he wanted to cry out in pain. He wanted to scream until he couldn't scream any more, but he found he had no voice. He could feel the pain overtaking him as he grew weaker and could fight no more. Finally, just as he thought he was going to die, it stopped, and all he sense was an overwhelming shade of blue: in front of him, to his left and right, and even inside of him. Having nothing left to fight with, he gave into the blue and let it have control. It would be nice to stop fighting...
And suddenly, he was fighting again. Not a mental battle, but a physical one. He went through the motions his adrenaline allowed him to, just like always. Except this time, he wasn't fighting the enemy. He was fighting his teammates. His friends. His family. His mind was screaming at him to stop, but his body was not under his control. From his usual vantage point high above everything, he took shot after shot that he didn't know why he was taking. First was Fury, who ended up with an arrow in his good eye. Then Coulson, the closest thing he had to a father. Then Stark. Thor. Dr. Banner. Captain Rogers. Shot after shot he took, with his mind hollering at him to stop but his body not listening. And then came Natasha. She was unarmed, for once, yelling something distant-sounding. She seemed to be screaming his name, but he couldn't quite make it out. He nocked an arrow and pulled the bowstring back as far as it would go, just as he had done a thousand times before. He saw his target with crystal clear eyes, just as he had done a thousand times before. He released the arrow with ease, and found that he could control his body once more. Natasha! he yelled, but it was no use. Like a thousand times before, he knew he would hit his mark with perfect accuracy. He watched in vain as the arrow sliced through the air and pierced her chest. He stared in agony as she fell. He had to do something. He threw aside his bow and jumped of the roof he must have been standing on, desperate to get to his partner. He felt the same pain in his chest that she felt in hers, and all he knew was that he was falling, falling, falling...
"Clint!" There was a sharp burst of pain on his right cheek, and he was suddenly awake. He sat up quickly; Natasha stood over him as his eyes bolted open and stared wildly at her.
"Tasha!" was all he managed to gasp out. He ensnared her into a bone-crushing hug and she fell into his lap, tensing up immediately. She relaxed when she realized that he had had a nightmare. If holding her would calm him down, then he would hold her by all means. She knew just as well how unsettling nightmares were.
He ran his fingers through her hair and down her back, as though making sure she was still there. Natasha held still and waited patiently for him to be done. She didn't break their silence, even when it seemed like he had calmed down. Clint buried his face in her neck and took a deep breath.
"Natasha," he whispered.
"I'm here," she murmured softly. She didn't bother telling him that it was just a bad dream, and that it was going to be okay. For all she knew, the dream was real. And in their line of work, dreams tended to be pretty darn unsettling.
"Natasha," he breathed again, this time only sounding half-insane. "You're alive."
"How bad was it?" Natasha asked gently, tentatively sliding her hand up and down the back of his head and neck. She was never good at calming people down, but it seemed to comfort him.
"Bearable," Clint said in a stronger voice, even though they both knew it was the exact opposite.
They sat like that for a few minutes more, holding each other and not saying anything aloud. But the fact that neither of them moved, even once their muscles started cramping up, said a million things that their words couldn't possibly express.