I have a concussion from rugby so it gives me a few days to write!
Thanks for liking the first chapter!
Onto the second!
Review pretty please! I have one last chapter for this little story and I need to know if it need to change! :P
Disclaimer; Don't own anything to do with Marvel! Ok? Ok!
The rise and fall of his chest was always a hypnotic sight for her. It was relaxing, and always made her know he was alive and well. That's all she really wanted in life now; one thing to hold onto, one thing to help her feel secure, even if that one thing was just Clint.
She'd actually be pretty fine if that one thing was only Clint!
The fever took him to the land of sleep after he finished the story, leaving Natasha to just relax beside him.
She wouldn't leave, just incase he needed her. He got bad nightmares lately, on a normal day like. So she could only imagine what horrors would bring.
She nuzzled his chest a little and gave it a kiss. She'd only ever be this relaxed with him. This un-Widow like with him. She knew he noticed it, he mentioned it a lot, how happy and honoured he felt that she only really smiled at him. Properly, at least. Tony often got her "I'll kill you" smile.
She ran her hand along his chest once more, pouting in concentraction at all the little bumps and cuts. She never really got scars, she was lucky like that. Her body just didn't clot into scar tissue. He was riddled in them though. No doubt any little cut he ever got scarred.
The long one right down his side always upset her. It was from the first time she properly failed him. The first time she felt heart broken.
It was one scar of many from that mission in Khost.
"Just listen to me for one fucking minute, will you?" He growled, his eyes hard, some anger she'd never seen from him before flashing across them.
So she listened to him.
"They know we're here so we're fucked. Get out of here and let me do my job."
"It's not just your job." She whispered back harshly, shifting a little in their little corner to try wake her leg up. "This was my mission."
"STRIKE Team; Delta's." He correcred, and she rolled her eyes. She hated being part of a team. "My job is to shoot. Yours is interrogation. Get out of here so you can live to fulfill your part you stubborn bitch."
She slapped him, and he looked ready to pounce, until she drew the pistol from her waist and aimed it at his face.
"Call me bitch one more time, Barton." She growled, finger ghosting over the trigger. "I dare you to."
"Can you just trust me for like five minutes!?" Clint yelled this time, and she wanted to punch him because they were hiding from pretty heavily armed guards, anything above a whisper would have them caught.
She shook her head.
"I don't trust people. Joys of being the Black Widow." She simply replied, putting the gun back in it's place before peeking over the edge of the small partition to see if they were clear yet. "And I especially don't trust you, Hawkboy. Tried kill me once."
"Eye." He corrected through a sigh, and she smirked a little at the irritation clear in his voice. "And you actually left me for dead so you're one to talk."
The mission had gone unexpectantly wrong. Simply because they had the completely wrong information. What they thought to be a simple smuggling ring turned out to be a giant weapons and drugs operation. There was only the one team, STRIKE Team; Delta. A.K.A Black Widow and Hawkeye.
They had choppers about a mile out feeding information but their comms had been disconnected by the radar dish.
This wasn't their first mission together, they had a few before hand, but they still hated everything about each other so they weren't really a team yet.
"You want to go guns blazing? Fine." He eventually sighed, his hand behind his back to grab an arrow. "But if you get killed, I'm dancing on your grave."
"Ditto." She smirked, blowing him a kiss before jumping up and over the partition, both guns raised as she waiting for an attack.
Nothing.
So she went deeper into the building. From the outside of the built up area of Khost, it looked like a normal office building. Inside, looked like a normal office building. Until doors were opened and each room contained different kinds of weapons or drugs, all of them looked like they could kill in a second.
She glanced behind her as she started up some stairs, Barton no where in sight.
She laughed to herself, the idiot probably went to find some high place to watch everything. She still had no idea how he was an agent. All he did was watch and shoot, nothing special.
Alright, his aim was perfect, but that was about it.
Carefully, she opened the door at the top of the stairs, her jaw dropping at the size of the room facing her.
Boxes upon boxes lined the walls, each marked with different pictures of guns or words that she assumed were the names of whatever drugs were inside.
And guards. So many fucking guards. She had to close the door again and take a minute to gather her thoughts. They had to get the mission done and over with, they had to find the main guy and take him in for questioning. And it seemed like she'd have to cross the warehouse floor to get to that point. She checked the ammo in her guns, then the ammo in her bites, and burst in guns blazing.
They weren't expecting it, which is odd since they all knew herself and Barton were in the building. Maybe they thought the agents had given up and gone home by now.
So she easily took out half of them with the ammo in her guns. Once that was done, she had to use the ammo left in her bites, but the guards just kept going after her.
So dropped down to avoid a kick aimed at her head, spinning around to take the mans feet from under him. She snapped his neck with her legs as she simultaneously went for the next guard after her.
There were too many though, and she had no ammo left. She didn't know where they were all coming from, but they had her pinned to the floor defenceless in moments.
There was a familiar sound above all the shouting, the sound of an arrow flying through the air, Barton had done his job!
Though, no one fell, she didn't hear the 'thump' of a body. What was he doing?
She glanced up as the guards looked around frantically, noting the little red beeping light of his exploding arrow embedded in the wall.
Her eyes went wide. Exploding arrow..
He was going to kill the two of them..
The idiot.
BOOM! Then blackness. That fucking idiot..
She woke with a start, the world spinning as she sat bolt upright. She had to close her eyes again though otherwise she'd have blacked out completely.
"Breathe Natasha, you're ok." She heard beside her, and she'd know Coulson's voice anywhere.
She listened to her handler, trying to calm her rapid breathing as he lay her back down. She took a moment, eventually calming down, and allowed herself to assess her injuries.
A banging headache, her wrist hurt but she could move it so there was no cast. She had a dull pain along her leg, and as she moved it, she felt the familiar tug of stitches.
"Better than Francis, I'd say.." She whispered, her hand gently rubbing her forehead.
No response. Nothing even from Barton about using his middle name, he usually went mad at that. That meant things were bad. Barton always got hurt, because he threw himself into stupid situations or tried defend her like a god damn hero. So she knew he'd be bad.
But Coulson would always respond.
She opened her eyes and looked up at her handler, shocked to see the remains of tears on his face.
"He's not.." She started in a whisper, surprising herself by finding a lump in her throat.
She can safely and honestly say she never had any form of attachment to Barton. She never considered him a friend, barely thought of him as an ally, but he was dependable. He was her partner, and they were one hell of a team. He couldn't be gone.
"We don't know.." Coulson eventually replied, a hand running through his hair.
How can they not know!? He was either alive or dead, right? There was no in-between!
Wait..
There was an in-between..
"How could you let him get taken!?" She yelled, sitting up once again to glare at the older agent. "Dammit Coulson, he'll crack! We know what those assholes can do, they'll do worse to him!"
"We hardly had a choice, did we!?" He yelled back, and this shocked her. It was the first time he'd yelled at her. It snapped her back to normal though.
"Tracker?" She simply said, getting off the bed to go to the counter and get her weapons. They were back in the SHIELD base, she knew that because no normal hospital room would have her weapons lying around so freely.
"Not responding.." He whispered, and she froze. The only time the tracker wouldn't respond is if the agents heart was no longer beating.
"Do you have a team ready?" She responded, choosing to ignore what the information she received meant.
This was her fault. She went diving in head first, she chose to go against all those guards, she was the reason he had to give away his position and blow the place up. Once again, she was the reason Clint Barton's life was in danger and she couldn't have that red in her ledger. She already had so much in it due to him.
"Natasha, there's no point.." He said softly, and she could hear the worry in his voice. She wasn't looking at him though, she was busy refilling her weapons.
"The tracker should send his last know location.." She said sharply, slipping the magazine into the gun before strapping it to her waist. "Send them to my phone."
"He's gone, Natasha." Coulson sounded annoyed now, but she didn't care, she just went for the door. He blocked her though, and she deflated a little. The tears were falling freely from him now. "He's dead."
"Then I'm bringing back his body." She whispered harshly, glaring down his stare. "He deserves better than being left wherever they have him. He's the best agent this place has. We owe him that much."
She pushed past him then, heading down the hall.
"Agent! You don't have permission to leave!" She heard Coulson call, but she didn't stop. "You won't have a job if you continue!"
"Then consider this my resignation!" She called back when she entered the elevator, giving him a mock salute before heading up to Clint's quarters. If he was still alive, and she was getting him out, he'd need a bow.
She may not like the guy, but they were a team, and she never left a member of a team behind. That, and, she still owed him. If he was dead, this was the last thing she could do for him. She could get him home, she could give him a proper burial, she could put the archer to rest then avenge the shit out of him.
She growled a little at that thought. If that stubborn bastard died protecting her again then she'd bring him back to life and kill him herself.
She hated owing people..
She froze when she saw Barton's door open, no one should be in there. She knocked softly and peeked her head in. "Hawk..?"
She knew it wasn't him, she knew that, but it was a habit now each time she went to get him from the room.
"Not quite." A male voice responded, and an agent around her age stepped from the bathroom with a quiver of arrows and a bow in hands. She recognised him immediately. One of Clint's best friends, his former partner, Agent Ryan Douglas. Short cropped black hair, a skilled technician, usually worked with Clint because he was genius with tactics but not the best with a gun. He was a specialist in martial arts though, so he had that going for him.
He gave Natasha a sad smile. They probably had three conversations in the few months she was here, usually civil, one time not so much when he learned she tried kill his partner. "You have the same idea?"
"I guess so." She replied with a nod, noticing now that he was in his combat gear.
"Good." He grinned, nodding a little. He really was like Clint, that school boy arrogance about him. Though his was alot more tolerable than Barton's was. "You can tag along if you want."
"Please." She scoffed, arms folded across her chest. She did feel a little bad sometimes about taking his partner, the poor guy had been put on desk duty until they found someone else. "I'm the higher agent here. You wanna join STRIKE Team; Delta, then here's your chance."
She turned and left the room then, knowing the guy would follow without needing any more invitation.
She hated the team name. After this mission, she'd never use it again.
It took them about an hour to reach the building the whole mission fell apart in. The whole hour was spent going over whatever little plan they had. There were SHIELD agents stationed all around the perimeter, having been there since they dragged Natasha out but not daring go back inside.
No one had come out. Which means Barton was still in there somewhere.
"Top office, probably." Natasha said to Agent Douglas as she checked her weapons, glancing up the building then. "If our floor was destroyed, they'd have brought him up rather than down."
"That makes sense." Ryan nodded, strapping on a bullet proof vest to prepare himself. She wondered if herself and Clint were the only ones who never bothered do that.
Night had fallen, so they had Barton held up in there for easily six hours by now. Maybe longer, she didn't really know the time they finished the mission at.
"Widow." He said softly, drawing her attention. She frowned a little at the worry in his eyes. "Even if he did survive, he's been up there so long, I don't know how long he'll last.."
"He'll survive." She simply said, slinging the bow and quiver of arrows over her shoulder before heading towards the building. "He's too stubborn to leave without annoying me to death first."
It was strange how easily they fell into silence once inside the building. The only communication between the two being hand signals. Standard stuff, that wasn't what she found strange. What she found strange was how comfortably it happened when this was the first time she worked with this guy.
Though he was just like Clint. That may have been why.
They had their weapons drawn just incase there were some stragglers not in the upper levels.
Four levels up and there was no one encountered, and she was getting a little worried.
Barton should have taken out alot of them with the explosion, but there were still a few, and she didn't know if the two of them were enough to take them out.
Things got difficult when they got to the eleventh floor, the floor that the mission went to hell in. The door was blown off the hinges, so they could see in and know there were no guards in there. Still though, they took cover behind some rubble because here was where things would get unknown.
"The next set of stairs are just ahead." She whispered, peeking over the rubble to make sure she saw correctly. "We need to be careful.."
"No running in?" Ryan asked curiously, he must've been the guns blazing one before she came along.
She shook her head, a slight frown crossing her features. That's what got them in this mess in the first place. No more running in. She had to plan things now.
"We'll go slow.. Eliminate any enemies and find Barton." She said simply, standing up properly to be ready to move. "No prisoners this time. This is a rescue mission."
"Sounds like a plan." He grinned, jumping up and heading over to the door with his gun raised.
Definitely Barton.
She wondered had they trained together or something. Or perhaps Clint trained him. He was definitely younger than the archer, Clint was a good 4 years or so older than she was, so it was possible. The guy just had the same movements, the same aiming style, the same everything as Barton. She'd have to ask him when they were out of here.
And by him she meant Barton. No way that son of a bitch was dying until she said it was ok to.
Slowly, they ascended staircase after staircase.
No one.
This should make her happy, it seemed to make Ryan happy after each floor passed, but this meant one of two things.
Either they were all waiting in the main office to ambush them.
Or they weren't here.
And if they weren't here, then they wasted time on this mission, wasted time that Barton definitely didn't have right now.
As usual, when they came to another door, they took a side each and he threw a flash bang into the room. Once the light and smoke was cleared, they'd enter to see if there was anyone in the space. This was the third last floor and there was still no one!
"What the hell is going on!?" She growled, losing her cool now. There was still no sign that the idea that Clint was around here was actually true!
"Romanoff.." Douglas' voice was quiet, strange, so she looked over to him. He was on the other side of the room, at the entrance way to the next stair case, and he was looking down at something.
Curiosity got the better of her and she went over to him, freezing at what she saw.
There, at his feet, was a standard SHIELD tracker. The beeping light was off because there was no heartbeat, but holy crap there was alot of blood.
"No.." She whispered in disbelief, shaking her head at the thought they ripped it from him. That's the only way to get it out. It was close to the heart to be powered by the blood flowing from it, so the only way to take it out was to cut all the way down the side big enough to rip the little device out.
When she opened the door to the stairwell, she nearly got sick. It seemed like Ryan would for a moment, but he gathered himself before.
All the way up the stairs, all in the hall, there was blood. A steady stream of it.
He was dead. Barton was dead. There was no way he'd survive that.
"Come on." She whispered, starting up the stairs. There was the confirmation she needed. He was upstairs somewhere. She just had to get there and everything would be fine.
She froze when she heard shouting and the door slamming behind her, running back to it as quickly as she could. "Ryan!?"
"I'm fine!" He shouted back, though there was gun fire that stopped her heart. "They followed us! You go get Barton! I'll keep them here!"
She nodded, though she knew he couldn't see her, and headed up to the last level before the roof. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she threw in a flash bang, grinning when she heard some shouts. She got the bastards this time!
Once the smoke and light were gone, as the previous floors before, she jumped in with guns up. Five guys. No problem. Five expertly placed bullets into the head had them dead in a moment.
She turned and froze, eyes slightly wide.
There, chained up by the hands to the roof like some pig hanging, was Clint.
His back was to her, but she could see the gash to his side from this distance no problem. Mainly because blood was still dripping from it. His head was bowed, no doubt unconscious, no doubt in a world of pain.
Her eyes only scanned him for a moment though, because there one last guy there with a gun pointed at her partner.
"Drop them." He growled, pushing the gun into Barton's side which earned a yelp from the archer.
Still alive.. Good.
She complied, holding the guns up and releasing the magazines before slowly setting them on the ground.
The guy smirked, obviously feeling like he just won. As if.
In an instant, he was down, one of the bites on her wrists shot straight through his throat.
Never underestimate the Black Widow.
She wouldn't celebrate just yet. She couldn't.
She ran over to Clint side and checked him for a moment, his eyes were open, but barely.
She frowned and braced a hand behind his back, ready to catch him since he'd drop like a bag of potatoes once she released him.
"Nat..?" He whispered, though she didn't look at him, too busy trying to snap the chain holding him up with one hand.
"I'm here." She replied calmly, just trying to let him know everything was ok now. She had no idea what they did to him, but he knew she hated the nickname from him, so it was only used when he was drugged up or so incredibly exhausted that he couldn't possibly form her full name. She didn't want to know what they were up to.
The chain snapped, and he fell with a barely concealed whimper. She caught him though, his arm wrapping around her shoulders as she started leading him back towards the stairs. Down was easier than up. She needed to get him to the car, to the ambulance that was waiting, this was an unsanctioned mission so even if she did manage to haul him up to the roof she wouldn't be able to call for evac.
"This'll probably hurt.." She whispered to him, slowly easing him down the first set of stairs.
"S'kay.." He slurred, and she found herself glad he was still concious. He had to stay awake. He lost way too much blood.
She paused at the closed door at the end, leaning against it a moment to try listen for any movement. Agent Douglas had been fighting someone through there.
When she heard nothing, she slowly pushed it open, seeing two bodies on the ground instantly.
She froze again. There, with a bullet through his skull, was Ryan Douglas.
Dammit..
She wasn't the only one to see though, because she felt Barton tense on her side.
"Is that..?" He started, standing up a little straighter.
Dammit dammit dammit..
"Clint.." She started, but she was cut off by a growl from her partner. She looked to him as he pulled his arm away, shocked when he ripped the bow and arrow from her.
"The bastards!" He yelled, and she hadn't the chance to stop him as he ran down the next set of stairs after whoever killed his former partner.
"Barton!" She shouted, chasing after him.
She was so damn confused! He was pretty much dead in her arms just a moment ago! Now he was running like nothing was wrong!?
Already, she came across one guard, an arrow through his eye.
"Clint! Stop it!" She shouted, terrified now since there was a nice trail of blood, more than likely his.
When she went through the next door, she saw he at least listened to her and stopped, but that was just so he could send arrow after arrow into guards' skulls.
"Barton!" She finally yelled, though she froze when he turned to face her, arrow necked and aimed at her skull.
The look in his eyes.. It wasn't him. They had done something to him. The usual piercing blue had dimmed, a shadow of their usual selves.
"Who the fuck brought the kid!?" He yelled, her hands instinctively going up to show she wasn't a threat.
"He came himself, Clint.." She said calmly, carefully taking a step towards him. The arrow didn't lower. "He came to save you. We both did."
"You shouldn't have." He growled, fingers just ghosting on the string now. He was really meaning to kill her..
"I'm not the enemy.."
"But you are!" He yelled, his shoulders tensing up. "You are! You're the reason I got caught! You're the reason they put that stuff in me! I went to protect you and your stupid ass ideas! Now I'm broken and he's dead!"
"What stuff?" She asked calmly, though she was curious as fuck. What were they experimenting on him? "Clint.."
"I don't know!" He yelled, turning to send the arrow into another guards eye who just entered the room. Without missing a beat, he aimed another at Natasha.
"Barton, listen." She said calmly, approaching like she would a wounded animal now. "You don't have to do this."
He wouldn't miss, she wouldn't expect him to miss, so it didn't matter how close she got.
"You'll kill me as soon as I drop this!"
"I won't, I'm here to get you out."
He scoffed, and that actually hurt her. She risked her life to come back and get her, and he scoffed!
She knew why..
"I trust you, Clint.." She whispered, close enough now to place a hand gently on the arrow. "I trust you. Please, just trust me."
"That'd be a mistake." He whispered back, though she did begin to see something in his eyes break.
"Not anymore." She smiled, having told him plenty of times in the past that trusting her was a mistake. "Please Clint."
It took a bit of stare down, but he eventually nodded, the bow lowering and arrow going back to it's quiver.
"Ryan deserved better, Nat.. So much better.." He said quietly, and she was about to agree but he began to fall.
"Easy Hawk." She said softly, catching him and putting him in the former position before leading him from the room. She had to get him some attention.
"I hadn't spoken to him in weeks.. He probably thought I forgot about him.." He slurred as they descended the levels, and she was worried he was about to pass out.
She was surprised he actually hadn't yet. Whatever they pumped into him must've been good stuff.
"He didn't.. He still cared about you." She replied, finally leading him down the last set of stairs. "Enough to go on a suicide mission for you."
She felt him chuckle more than she could hear it, he was far too weak to give his usual hearty one.
"That mean you care about me..?" He slurred, and she had to smile.
"Don't push your luck, Hawkboy." She chuckled, placing him on the waiting trolley so he could be taken to the ambulance.
Though, maybe, just maybe, she did.
She got in the car she borrowed from SHIELD and followed the ambulance, beginning the long wait she was far too used to with Barton.
Four hours. That's how long he was in there. Long enough for her to go shower, go brief Coulson and Fury, go make sure his room and things were ok, then head back tot he infirmary.
She even managed to have a bit of a nap in the waiting room.
When a nurse came to get her, she looked like she had the worst news in the world. Dead. Definitely dead. The ass.
"So, you said he had something in him..?" The nurse asked cautiously, and Natasha nodded, not knowing where she was going with it.
"We took samples, ran it trough, and it seemed to be a rough formula for the super serum Captain Rogers has.."
Natasha froze. She heard legends about that, about Captain America. She never had the clearance to read the files, but it explained why Clint was able to do the things he did while he was so injured.
"We lost him three times." She went on, and Natasha felt her heart sink. "He's fine now, but he's in ICU, no visitors until we know just how bad he's been affected."
Widow just nodded, not sure how to take that at all. They were trying to make a super soldier..? Out of Clint..?
"He was aggressive.." Natasha finally spoke, not a question, a statement. And the nurse nodded.
"Makes good things great, and bad things worse.. Agent Barton may be good, but he has dark in him. We can't let anyone in until we know it's safe."
She nodded, thanking the nurse before turning to leave and tell Director Fury the news.
This was all her fault. She definitely had to keep a closer eye on her partner.
She ran soft kisses along his chest, smirking slightly at the soft chuckle that ripped through it.
"I'm sick.. We can't play.." He whispered to her, his arm tightening around her.
"I'm not trying to play, you idiot." She laughed, nuzzling his shoulder a little.
The memory of that mission had her a little on edge now. It took him a month to calm down enough to be released that time. And since then, she had kept a pretty close eye on him. Even the time before New York when they were on separate missions, she'd have Phil call in and tell her how the archer was.
"Do you remember much from Khost?" She whispered, trailing a finger along the shape of his abs. She felt him tense.
"Way to kill a mood.. Not really.." He replied quietly, she didn't want to bring him down, but it was a question she never asked. "You running off, the horrible pain of that tracker, Ryan's body, then a month of hell."
"You were such an ass on that serum." She growled softly, kissing his chest once more to calm him. "Pretty sure you made at least ten doctors quit.. And gave another ten concussions."
"Not my fault." He chuckled, pinching her arm gently to get her to shut up. "I don't know how Rogers handled that stuff."
"His was the proper one, yours was a shitty attempt at it."
Silence then. Though not uncomfortable, never uncomfortable, just silence.
"I love you, Tash.." He whispered after a while, and she grinned a little.
She sat up properly and took his face in both of hers, leaning in to give him a soft kiss. She'd never get sick of hearing him say that.
"Love you too, Clint.."
This was DEFINITELY the best way of keeping an eye on her partner.