Last one me thinks! Me thinks.. Yeah.. I think this is the last chapter in my document..
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The pop of stiff joints were what greeted his ears when he stretched, giving a content sigh at the feeling.
Feeling a weight on his chest, he glanced down.
The sight made him grin. Natasha was still wrapped around him, head and hair on his chest, arm around his waist, and the slow steady rise and fall of her own chest showed that she was fast asleep.
All day yesterday she stayed in bed with him, only leaving him a moment to go get the Chinese food from the delivery guy.
She didn't have to do these things, didn't have to stay by him, didn't have to wear herself out nursing him back to health. Didn't have to make him feel like the luckiest most loved guy in the world. But she did.
She did because she wanted to, not because he asked. He always did the opposite of asking for help actually, always played it off like nothing was wrong so she wouldn't feel obliged to help him.
She did it because they were partners, she did it because they're the only one the other can trust. She did it because she's good at it, because she knows what helps him and what makes things worse.
He knew now, she always does it because she loves him.
A grin spread across his face as that thought, and he can't help but place a soft kiss on the top of her head.
Carefully, so as not to disturb her (which was definitely no easy task!), he shifted his weight so she was lying on the bed instead of on him. Once the blanket was pulled up over her, a soft kiss placed on her temple, and a fresh shirt put on him, he went out to make the woman he loved a nice breakfast.
She still never did answer his proposal properly. It didn't annoy him at all, but it was still just up in the air. That had been a while ago that the words blurted out of his mouth and neither of them ever brought it up again.
He was starting to wonder if she had forgotten about it, but he knew far too well from arguments or cheap shots in a session that Natasha Romanoff never forgot!
He seriously wanted her as a wife though.. It sounds sentimental as hell, and even a little out of character for a spy to be thinking of stuff so trivial and so common, but the title was something personal, something that would last, something that he could look back on when he was 70 and say 'That was definitely the best mission I ever took.'
"Damn.." He laughed, shaking his head of the cheesy thought as he mixed up some pancakes. She'd beat his ass if she knew he was thinking such sappy things!
Still though, the thought of being married was one that always had him happy.
He smiled a little sadly at the batter in the bowl, the memory of one of the first times he had the pleasure of calling Natasha Romanoff his wife crossing his mind..
"What d'ya think about it?" He asked with a confused frown, watching as his hands fumbled with a dickie bow around his collar. He hated suits, so he really hated tuxes, but if they were to play the part, he had to wear this one!
"Seems simple enough." She replied calmly, and he looked up at her as she opened up some sort of make up container.
"Geez, don't act too excited about it." He teased with a smirk, and Natasha just shrugged, finishing the last touch of her make-up in the mirror sitting on the table she was at.
Aster and Julia Rosewood. Pompous sounding?
Good! They're supposed to!
This wasn't their usual mission type. Barton felt a little out of place. There was a threat made a while ago that at this summit there would be a terrorist attack. Naturally, it spiked Fury's interest, so his ever favourite team was sent in to play security and spy.
Their covers? Well, it was an investment summit, some big shot wants to open a chain of hotels or something so billionaires from all around the world are here to see if it peaks their interest.
Enter Aster Rosewood. If one of there snooty patooty idiots were to learn to use Google or ask their servants to use it for them, a page of the self made billionaire would pop up. One good thing Fury gained by having Tony Stark and the US Military now on his side? Stark has agreed to allow use of his business in undercover work. Not that they needed permission, but it's nice to have it!
So, to peak the interest of any terrorists among the group, Aster Rosewood worked as a simple engineer in the company, before he made his billions by investing his pay cheque in Stark Industries the afternoon before it hit it's highest point. When Stark Industries went on the good side, good ol' Aster boy struck by taking over the weapons manufacturing for the US Military.
The guy seems to have good luck! None more so than when it comes to Julia Rosewood.
Julia Rosewood was simple, no page on her other than the mentions in Aster's page. Why? Because if she was also some big shot then there'd be eyebrows raised and holes poked through. She was to be a simple small town girl, high school sweetheart of the billionaire.
She was the rich one the last time, so it was his turn!
So, why was this lucky? Because she just so happened to be Aster's wife. I know, right!? Majorly lucky guy!
"Well Na-" He started when she stepped from the bathroom in a long navy evening gown, but he stopped when she put her hand up.
She glanced around before slowly signing, he could barely make it out because of how much she was hiding her hands. He got the gist though. 'There's a buzz. We may be bugged. Keep your mouth shut.'
He nodded in understanding, slipping the wedding ring onto his finger before offering her his hand. He couldn't hear a buzz at all, but his aids often made him miss things like that. He could hear a lot of things with them, better than ever before, but mechanical sounds escaped him and it often landed him in some trouble.
"My dear wife, shall we?" He asked with the most charming smile he could muster, and she just took his hand with a sweet smile of her own.
Camera's then. She wouldn't smile if they were just bugs. She'd roll her eyes and refuse his hand.
"Looking forward to it." She replied sweetly, leading him from the room. It scared him sometimes, how the cold and calculating assassin could so easily slip into a girly cover in a heartbeat.
For him, it was easy. He never acted like a killer in the first place. He was always the joker, the idiot, so it was simple for him to act like it when undercover.
Who knows? Maybe Natasha really is sweet and her coldness is a cover so when she goes undercover it's not actually undercover.. Oh lord that just confused him!
"What's that face for?" She asked through a little laugh when in the elevator, and he just smiled at her.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, leaning in so he could whisper in her ear. He knew she'd kill him later, but he couldn't resist the whole newly wed stuff!
"Gotta play the part.." He whispered, one of her hands resting gently on his chest. That threw him a little. Since she found out he lost his hearing she's been un-characteristically nice to him. It made him love her a little too much. "So I may have been thinking about our wedding night, my love.."
He laughed as she pushed him away, taking her hand though to lead her out of the elevator and to the dining hall.
All of this was way too fancy for him. They weren't outside the US this time, thankfully. They were in New York for this, the Waldorf Hotel of all places!
When he was in the circus, he used to pass the place from time to time. His brother would always turn to him and say that one day they'd spend a week in one of the rooms. One day, they could own the place. One day they'd have enough money to spend the rest of their lives in a place like this.
It never happened, of course. Shit got a little mental between them, and the times Barton was on his own he was never brave enough to try go in. They didn't really want a torn clothed no good archer ruining their image.
"Everything ok?" She whispered beside him, and he glanced at her to see worried eyes. He must have had some face on him to earn that look.
He smiled at her and nodded, leaning in to kiss her cheek before leading her through the tables to find their own.
And so began the most boring night of Clint's life..
Like seriously..
If SHIELD wasn't paying for all their drinks right now, then he'd be gone!
There wasn't even a trace of any terrorists. No one showing up on his radar, no names being dropped, nothing. Their table was filled with old guys going on and on about what they invested their money in and how they screwed the average Joe over to triple it.
It made Clint sick.
He glanced at his tightly clenched hand when a soft one was placed ontop of it, looking up then to see Natasha smiling at him. "Aster, darling, care for a dance?"
He smiled at the sweetness in her voice. He could get used to that!
He took her hand in his and brought it up for a kiss, excusing himself to the asshole he was talking to and leading her to the dance floor.
They easily fell into a dancing position, his right hand taking her left and his left arm wrapping around her waist.
"I know it bothers you." She whispered with a slight smile, and he knew exactly what she was talking about.
"They just don't give a shit." He growled, carefully dancing around the floor with her, far enough away from people so they wouldn't be over heard. "How can they throw away money so easily when there are people living on the street.."
"You're just saying that cause you were one of those people." She said softly, pulling back a little to look at him. "Relax. It's all ok. Keep your eyes on the mission, ok?"
"I always do." He smiled, giving her a soft kiss then.
They were supposed to be newly weds, and haven't kissed once this whole evening. Their covers would so be blown if anyone was actually paying attention! He was happy to do so though! Even if he was terrified she'd rip his balls off!
"I think it was just an empty threat.." She sighed softly, her head nuzzling his shoulder a little since she let it rest there during the dance. "Those glasses picking up anything?"
"Zero." He sighed, no one in the place matched any facial recognition scans in his lenses. And SHIELD had facial recognition of every terrorist in the world, even those some governments never even heard a whisper about.
A sigh escaped her lips, and he smiled a little to himself. She was getting annoyed but she couldn't act it because it would blow her calm cover.
"Then who the hell would have a camera in our room..?" She whispered in his ear, his breath catching as she kissed behind it softly.
Just playing a part, Barton. Whispering sweet nothings in her new husband's ear. That was all. Dammit, calm down.
"Haven't a clue.." He whispered back, moving his hand so both of his arms were now around her waist. He felt himself lose the little bit of control he still somewhat had as he pulled her closer against him, but he really didn't seem to care at all.
"Excuse me, sir.." That damn voice.. It was that old geezer Clint wanted to punch in the face. . He pulled back from his wife anyway, and smiled at the guy. "Do you mind if I cut in?"
He really did mind. Like seriously. Like if he could tell the guy to fuck off, it would have been done before the words even left his mouth.
But he didn't. He wasn't Clint for once. So, Aster politely smiled and pulled away from his wife, giving her hand a soft kiss before offering it to the guy who wanted to dance with her.
Natasha would so kill him!
"Do mind her please. Only one I've got!" Clint grinned, feeling the 'I'm going to strangle you later' vibe coming from his partner.
The old guy laughed and nodded at the comment though. "Of course! Won't find one like it anywhere else!"
"Eyes open." Clint whispered to Natasha's ear, giving her a soft kiss on the lips then before heading over to the bar.
God her lips were so damn addictive..
He already wanted to grab her away from the guy and run away to some secret place..
Mission, Barton! Mission!
He shook his head clear of the thoughts and leaned against the bar, waiting for his pint to be pulled. Billionaire shouldn't be drinking such common drinks, but she had him driven a little mad so he really needed some good ol' classic alcohol.
He watched the two dancing curiously. They were having some conversation, but this was one of the times neither Clint nor Natasha had their comms in. Would have looked a little too suspicious. But dammit this was a time he definitely needed them!
Halfway through the pint, the song ended, and the pair broke away. She didn't look too impressed as they passed through the crowd towards the archer, though that was expected, she rarely liked dancing, not let alone with a complete stranger!
"Aster, sweetie.." She started when close enough, and he instantly knew something was up. "Roland here suggested we go back to our room for a drink. He's interested in our business."
Our.
Not your..
Our..
Well shit..
"Sounds great." Barton smiled, taking Natasha's hand in his own before downing the last of his pint with his other. "Follow us then."
Shit shit shit..
That's all that was going through his head all the way up in the elevator and to their room.
Luckily, Natasha was a little more calm so she took up the job of talking with Roland.
"So, Mr. Rosewood.." Roland started with a smile as Clint opened the door, but he never got to hear the end of the sentence.
He fought back for a moment, lashed out at whoever it was that was trying to grab him. He faintly head Natasha do the same, but as the worry for her spread through his body, and he turned to see what they were doing to her, he was distracted enough for something to be jabbed into his neck.
As the world went black, one thing swam through his mid.
Shit.
"Coming back to me, sweetheart?"
Sweetheart..?
It was usually said in the most patronising way possible. Normally when he'd be flat out on his back on some training mats or when he'd be getting a scolding for fucking something up on a mission.
He hated how the former seemed to happen more often than not.
This was different though. The voice calling him by such a personal term of endearment was soft, worried.
He recognised the voice alright, just not the tone.
Something must be wrong.
"What's going on..?" He rasped out, coughing a little then. Something was in his system. Something was making him sluggish, slow. Something made it so he couldn't form sentences in his head, and definitely couldn't get them down to his mouth.
Slowly, reluctantly, his eyes peeked open.
Before him lay a sight he never liked seeing. The worried face of one Natasha Romanoff.
"Ta.." He started, but the quick look she gave him told him to zip it.
"Oh, thank goodness Aster! I was really starting to worry!"
Aster?
Oh.. So they haven't been compromised at all..
He took a quick glance around the room. His mind may have been pretty hazy but his eyes still caught everything.
Natasha was right infront of him, tied to a chair. Either she was drugged up on whatever had his whole body feeling like lead, or she was playing defenceless wife-of-billionaire, because she wasn't struggling even a little.
He had a horrible gut feeling it was the former.
Two guards sat lazily in the hotel room corner, just having some cigars and playing some cards. He hated cigar smoke. Brought back some horrible memories that really didn't help make a tricky situation like this better.
He couldn't feel any part of his body right now, just felt like he was floating really. But he'd bet whatever he had that he was tied to whatever he was sitting on just like Romanoff.
She had a fat lip right now and he couldn't help but frown at it.
"We're fine." She reassured in a whisper, the slightest of smiles on her face.
He knew she wasn't talking about Aster and Julia Rosewood.
No.
She was talking about Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.
Their covers were intact.
The mission was still on.
Though that brought a new form of dread.
What beef did these guys have with Mr. Business man Aster..?
"Sleeping Beauty finally up?"
His head looked over to the voice, one of the tuxed out guards was making his way over.
That damn cigar..
He couldn't stop his eyes going slightly wide at the sight of it.
"Boss is just going to get some paperwork in order. Should be back in no time.
The sly grin on the asshole made Clint dread what paperwork was being got.
"We was told to keep yous companys though." The other guard piped in, not as soft spoken nor as grammatically wise as his counter part it would seem! The thick Bronx accent made it that bit more difficult to make out his words.
Clint and Natasha both kept their mouth shut. The two idiots were looking quite smug, Clint figured they thought they had sufficiently scared the newly weds.
Really though, Barton was in the middle of plotting each way to kill their captors and leave with no one the wiser. And he just knew his partner was doing the same.
It wasn't a long lived silence in the room though. Soon enough, the guards snapped to attention as the old man they brought up here earlier stepped into the room.
"Sorry about this, Mr. Rosewood." Roland said with an actual sorry smile, kneeling down infront of Clint to look him in the eye. "Just business, you understand, right?"
Business..? He didn't know much about this Roland guy, but it would seem the duo of SHIELD agents stumbled upon something a little more serious than a terror attack.
Dammit.. The stench of whiskey on his breath.. And cigar smoke.. You're not 5 Barton! Snap out of it!
"Business, huh..?" Barton croaked out, finding himself glaring at the man infront of him.
"Well, sometimes people aren't so willing to sign over what I want.." He pouted, and Clint found himself fearing what he was getting at. "At first, I'd ask.. But then I found a much more fun and simple way to get things.."
"You call this fun?" Clint said with a dry laugh, and Roland just grinned and patted the archer's cheek.
"Not for you, no.." Damn.. The guy was smiling, he looked like the happy jolly grandfather that kids would run and play with. The kind of guy who'd sit at a bar and buy you a drink.
But those eyes..
They held more evil and darkness than even the most hardened criminal he'd ever come across.
The man nodded to the guards still standing behind Clint as he stood up and pulled some papers from the envelope in his hands.
He could hear some shuffling before he caught the sight of one of the guards walking towards Natasha, a needle in his hand with a substantial amount of liquid inside. He tried struggle against his bindings to get to her, but felt the tip of a needle against his neck in moments.
She was definitely worse off than he was.
She wasn't even moving, just looking at Clint with those eyes saying the same thing he heard a billion times before.
"We're fucked."
She was probably given double or even triple whatever was running through his system right now. He'd bet everything that she put up one hell of a fight and probably took someone out before being jabbed.
He didn't look at her too long though, turning his glare pretty quickly onto Roland who was setting things up on a table in the corner.
"Latrodectus.. Rarely fatal. I came across is once during a hike in the woods. Got bitten, and went through hell for about a week.." He started, and Clint's heart immediately sank. Dammit, if that's what's in the vial held at both their necks right now.. And the smirk Roland held when he turned around told the archer that it was.
"Muscle pain, abdominal cramps, sweats, my heart felt like it would pop right out of my chest.. Oh and the spasms, my lord, they went on forever and would leave me bed bound for days.. That was only a little bite. So, I thought to myself, what if I could concentrate the venom, add a little touch here and there, and use that to my advantage..?"
Dammit all..
Latrodectus.. Where had he heard that before..?
A bite.. So a snake..? No, none he heard of..
Then it hit him. It hit him when he heard a soft laugh coming from the Latrodectus sitting across from him.
"Black Widow's, huh?" Clint said through a slight laugh, and Roland nodded with a sly grin to match. "Yeah, they can be bitches alright.."
For some reason, this calmed him. It shouldn't have, they were both in a horrible situation. Widow's venom rarely killed at all, but the odd time it definitely did and in a slow and painful way. These syringes were full of the liquid, usually the dose that kills is three or four drops of the spiders venom. They'd be dead within an hour if this happened.
Not the first time he's been facing death at the hand of a widow..
"Oh they can be! Yes, indeed!" The older gentleman was back, the one that was all smiley and would buy a drink all night for you. It scared Clint a little how quickly he could swap from one persona to another in an instant. "So, I suggest, you sign this contract for me. Forfeit your company, and 90 per cent of whatever your bank account currently holds to me."
Damn this guy doesn't play around..
Well, this looks bad alright..
Though, was it really?
He could just sign over the company. There'd be no problem with that. Sign over a fake company, let the guy think he's won, get the hell out of here, track the bastards down, have them by tomorrow, and have a nice little interrogation of them with his own favourite Black Widow.
Seems simple enough!
"Promise you'll let us go?" Clint asked with a sigh, trying to make it seem like it was the most difficult decision he's ever made.
"Scouts honour." Roland said with a grin, nodding to the guard who then proceeded to untie Clint and drag him to his feet.
The guards and the asshole would be knocked out right now if Barton didn't need help to even simply walk to the table.
He glanced at Natasha and frowned a little bit, she didn't look so hot right now.. Just sign this Barton and get her out of here!
A SHIELD team should be on the way to the alley behind the building soon anyway.. It's their pick up point for the end of the party. He just has to make it there..
"You're a smart man, Mr. Rosewood.." Roland grinned as he handed Clint the pen, which he struggled to grip and doubly struggled to write with. "Usually have to kill the wife before the man agrees to save his ass.."
"Love my wife a little too much for that.." Clint growled, glancing over his shoulder at Natasha before looking back to the contact. He signed and initialled everywhere Aster had to before dropping the pen.
"That's sweet.." Rolland said with what Clint thought was a genuine smile, but then it turned pretty evil pretty quick. "One last thing though.. I was never a scout.."
He didn't have a chance to ask the asshole what he meant by that, because, well, he got his answer in the form of a pinching in his neck then the most intense searing pain he's ever felt in his life.
There was a scream as he fell to his knees, and he instantly looked to Natasha who had a needle in her neck aswell.
Though she had no pain on her face. She just had her eyes screwed shut to block out the searing pain that she was no doubt feeling too.
She would never give the bastards the satisfaction of a sound. He knew that. She'd suffer in silence like every other mission so that they would never know that they got inside her head.
Dammit..
That meant to scream came from him..
He could feel the venom take effect immediately. Every muscle in his body was screaming in pain, searing white hot pain that would have any normal person rendered unconscious in shock in seconds.
Good thing he wasn't any normal person!
He could smell the burning flesh, the familiar scent that let him know a cigar was stubbed out somewhere on his body.
"Pleasure." He heard the muffled voice, a man, though why was it muffled? His aids couldn't have fallen out.. Dammit, concentrated venom. Senses weren't to go THIS quickly!
He tried lift his head from the floor and did just in time to see him walk towards Natasha, a guard definitely. He was in black so definitely not the main guy.
He was suddenly five again.. Watching as a man went over threateningly to a defenceless woman.
He had come home drunk again, he always shouted for her to go to bed if he was drunk. It would always wake Clint and the sound of a fist making contact with skin would always draw the boy from his bed and to the rickety old stairs to see what was going on. They'd give him nightmares, the sights he'd see. Things even adults shouldn't see. But mother was afraid of father, at least afraid enough not to leave him and take Clint and Barney with her. So she always suffered in silence and he always watched on, not fully understanding what was happening.
He never understood why dad's breath stank of that horrible drink when he'd beat him. Never understood why the cigars always had to be put out of his young arm instead of in the ashtray. He just never understood why someone would do things like that.
He understood now though. He understood a man was abusing his power over a weak woman. He understood that something unjust was happening. He understood that the sound of a fist hitting flesh shouldn't be heard. He understood now. And he was strong enough to something.
He wasn't a weak five year old anymore.
He wouldn't sit back and watch a woman he loved hurt like he did back then.
They weren't armed, he knew that, so with new found clarity and adrenaline, he lunged.
The guard went down easy enough, the unexpected tackle sending him down in seconds with Clint straddling ontop of him. His neck was snapped before his buddy could pull the archer off.
This was simple to get out of. They didn't seem to expect someone who knew how to fight, so obviously Roland just hired any ol' big guys in his company to act threatening. Because a real guard wouldn't hold someone attacking by the shoulders.
In an instant, Clint had jumped over the guys shoulder and had him crumpling to the ground with a broken neck before he could even turn around.
Two down.
The third wasn't going to be as quick..
Barton tuned and smirked at the currently-shitting-himself Roland, advancing oh so slightly as the older man tried back away towards the door.
"But.. No.." He stammered, and Clint raised an eyebrow in question. "You should be like her.. You should be on deaths door, Mr. Rosewood.."
Clint just smirked a little more, in one swift movement he held Roland up against the door by his throat.
"Clint Barton. Natasha Romanoff." Barton growled through his smirk, the mans eyes looking terrified but he doubted the idiot knew about those names, it was more than likely because Clint was currently choking the life out of him. "Little deadly duo from SHIELD known as Hawkeye and Black Widow.."
He released the man after a swift punch to the stomach, letting him crumple to the ground.
He wouldn't kill him.
No.
He'd leave him to answer to Natasha in interrogation when they got out of here.
But, he'd have a little fun.
"Never heard.." He tried huff out, but soon yelped as Barton kicked him onto his back. In an instant, Hawkeye was on top of the man, pinning him down so he could have some fun.
"Well now you have.." Clint smirked, a punch to the face following. "And I assure you.."
Another punch.
"You'll regret touching her.."
He let loose then. Everything releasing from his body as he let go a flurry of punches. He didn't let up, didn't pause for a breath. Even when the man fell unconscious, Clint continued with his beat down.
"Clint.."
He paused mid punch, fist still clenched as he listened to see if he was just hearing things.
Her tone was so weak, so unlike the strong confident bitchy woman he had partnered with for so many years, that it just wasn't possible.
"Hawk.. Clint.. Just stop.."
Dammit, it was her..
No one else called him Hawk..
He looked to Natasha and saw her barely awake, head slumped over as her body shook. Dammit the venom was getting to her..
He jumped up from the man, not even checking to see if he was still alive, too worried now about his partner to worry about the jackass on the floor.
"I'm sorry Nat.. Just hang on.." He whispered, behind the woman now as he untied her. Adrenaline still had him buzzing. He'd come down eventually.
And when he did, he knew he'd be a goner.
Before that happens, he had to get her to safety. She still had a chance.
"The alley.." She slurred as he lifted her up bridal style, leaving the room and running to the fire exit to get down to it.
"I know.. Just stay with me another half hour.. Then they'll be there." He called back, loudly, not a whisper. He had to keep her awake. Otherwise, it wouldn't matter who showed up.
She stayed quiet.
"Come on, you have to train me next week!" He said with as best a smile he could, his breathing dangerously hard as he took the steps two at a time.
Dammit adrenaline, get back here!
"And we have that mission in Taiwan tomorrow.." He continued, though as he neared the exit to the alley he felt the little energy he had slipping.
"Don't think so.." She replied weakly, though he was just overjoyed she replied at all!
"We do.. I have the arrows for it already.." He tried chuckle, falling down with her and sitting against the wall as he did.
He could feel his heart beginning to race, and his eyes grow heavy, but he couldn't give in. Not yet.
He held her close against him, watching as she struggled to keep her own eyes open.
"Nat.. Don't go, ok..?" He whispered frantically, her body starting to shake that little bit harder. "I can't find another partner.. They're all scared of me.."
"They a-all sick of you.." She tried smile, and it broke his heart more than this damn thumping was.
Her eyes didn't open the next time though, and she didn't follow up with whatever witty comment was bound to follow.
"Nat no.. Natasha.." He said with wide eyes, shaking her a little to try wake her up. "No no.. Romanoff, wake up!"
Dammit, he couldn't lose her like this!
He couldn't..
Something thumped extra hard in his chest, and he would bet you anything that it wasn't because of the venom running through his veins.
He'd kill her if she died like this!
Not in some shit hole alley! Not by some greedy business man! Not like this, not like this at all! Not in anything less than the most amazing fight ever witnessed!
"Please.." He whispered to her one last time, though one last shock wave of pain sent him into the world he'd no doubt meet his partner in.
The headache was BAD!
Did she try drink vodka with Clint again?
Damn, vodka never agrees with her, she should have known that!
It was one of those headaches that had even your eyes thumping, you know that one?
Her mouth was on fire aswell. Definitely vodka!
That would mean if she rolled over, she'd hit the shoulder of her partner. They always wound up sleeping in the same bed after these kind of nights. Mostly because she's always worried he'd get in trouble with someone on the way home and he'd always insist on walking her home like a gentleman that he isn't.
Her limbs were heavy though. She tried lift her hand and groaned in pain. Damn, what were they up to..?
"Romanoff..?"
...Not Clint.
Definitely not Clint.
They never spoke the morning's he woke up in her bed.
He'd just make her breakfast and leave.
"Natasha, can you hear me?" Coulson. That worried voice is something she'd always know, regardless of hangover!
Wait.. No.. Not a hangover.
If Coulson's here then it's not a hangover..
Shit, what mission did they fuck up this time?
"Yeah.." Was all she could manage, her mouth way too dry to say much else.
Slowly, she pulled her eyes open, a dimly lit room meeting her sight. There was a bit of soft light coming through the window, either day break or sun set.
She rolled her head to see Coulson sitting by her bedside, that smile on, that 'Everything's ok even though it's not but whatevs I'm not gonna tell you it's not!' smile he always has when something went seriously wrong.
She wasn't lying down, which was a good sign, meant that either she was ok enough not to be in emergency crash position or she was awake a little before hand and they sat her up.
No tubes or wires from what she could see, not even an oxygen feed.
"We were just waiting for you to wake.. You're fine.." Coulson answered her unasked question as he handed her a cup of water, which she sipped from. She wasn't stupid, her mouth told her she's been out a while, so she'd have to sip or get sick.
"Stomach need pumping? I know I drink alot, but.."
She didn't finish her sentence.
No, it wasn't drink related.
She was fine now, but no.
They were poisoned.
Bad.
Venom.
Damn Black Widow venom!
She should be dead!
They should be dead!
Wait..
You're fine..
You're..
She looked at Phil with slightly wide eyes, everything rushing back to her.
Clint got them out.
Clint killed two guys, probably three! She didn't see the last guy moving!
Clint got burned, the guard stabbed him and he didn't even seem to notice! He had the same poison that ran through her and he still got them out!
But Phil didn't say "You two idiots are fine!" or "Y'look better than Barton at least!" like he usually does!
"Where's Clint? Phil, where's Barton!?"
"Relax!" Coulson said with a worried frown, and she only realised then that her breathing hitched to dangerous levels. "He's down the hall. Don't worry!"
Her shoulders sagged a little at his words, her attention turning to the cup of water in her hands.
"And..?" She whispered, knowing that it was bad.
"And he's there.." Coulson whispered back after a while, and she knew it was all he could think to say. "It's been a little over a week.. We found the two of you in the alley just about gone.. Even then though, he just wouldn't release you."
Despite herself and the situation, she couldn't help the smile creeping onto her face. Even near death, he was protecting her.
"You were fine actually.. We got the anti venom into you once we figured out what it was and you responded well. No lasting effects, not much damage, though I bet you have a killer headache."
She just laughed and nodded, even his soft spoken voice was sending throbs through her head. She couldn't look at him really, didn't want to see his face right now, because the tone was enough to tell her that she got lucky, and Barton didn't.
"Clint had it bad.. Just wouldn't respond to the anti venom." Of course he wouldn't.. Why would he make things simple?
She could hear Phil give a sigh after a moment or two, obviously trying to find either the courage or words for the next part.
"We lost him a few times.. Got him back eventually, and yesterday he was finally moved from ICU to the ward.. He should be fine in time."
She stayed quiet, as did Coulson. They were friends, he was her handler so they were able to sit in silence comfortably.
She just needed to process everything. Just needed time. The light in the room just got less and less so she knew then it was night time, not early morning.
A half hour passed before Coulson cleared his throat.
"Fury and I spoke this morning.."
That's never a good thing..
"We're splitting up the team for a while.."
Her eyes went a little wide at that, and she finally looked to the older man sitting next to her.
"You've got to be shitting me.."
He shook his head with a sad smile, knowing she wouldn't take this well. Barton was going to be more difficult to tell though, she knew he'd kill everyone!
"The two of you need time.. And we feel that missions solo for now would be best.. Simple ones."
"That's bullshit and you know it is!" She pretty much yelled, feeling bad though since Coulson looked like she stabbed him through the heart.
But they were a team! Sure, back in the day she hated that she was paired with him. But they had grown to be the best damn team SHIELD had right now, grown to be friends, grown to be partners, they couldn't split them up now!
"I'm sorry Natasha.." He said softly, standing up then as if to make a point that he was the boss here, not her, not Clint. "He'll be sent to recover then sticking with me. As soon as you're up to it, you're going undercover in Stark Industries."
"He's your mission.." She said quietly, more a statement than a question, and it seemed to throw her handler off guard a little. "I don't know how he got us out either.. But he's not a lab rat."
"I know.." Coulson replied quietly, heading for the door then. "But something was up with him, something stopped him from just collapsing and dying in that hotel room, and I have to keep an eye on him."
He was gone then, leaving Natasha to her thoughts once again.
Had she have been more vigilant that night, they wouldn't be split up. Had she have been the Black Widow, the world renowned and feared assassin then everything would be ok right now. But she wasn't. That night she was Natasha Romanoff. That night, she had let emotions get to her.
She hadn't expected an ambush, so when her partner was knocked unconscious she let emotions get the better of her for the first time in her life and she just lost it. She lashed out rather than attacked. She threw punches rather than landed hits. She fucked up and it nearly killed him.
She had to find him.
Carefully, she swung her body so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. She felt like lead, but that would wear off soon. Wasn't the first time this feeling was present.
She was in some alright hospital pyjamas, not some silly gown, so she felt happy enough to just walk out of the room and down the hall.
It was SHIELD facility, so she knew exactly what room Clint would be in.
They always kept them side by side when the two of them would be hurt.
The door to his room was already open, so she just walked right in and over to her partner.
She frowned a little.
He looked pretty alright. Lying down on the bed but his head was propped up by three pillows.
An oxygen nose plug was attached though, as well as an IV making sure he didn't get dehydrated.
He was pale.
So very pale.
It scared her. Injuries, blood, gore. Bullets, knives, arrows. She could handle all of those. Those were visible, treatable.
Poison was another ball game.
It was invisible, doing horrible damage to organs without anyone knowing.
So how did he manage to escape it for so long..?
"Clint.." She whispered softly, but nothing from him. It would usually get some sort of movement, even just an eye twitch.
But nothing.
"What did they do to you..?"
She didn't feel right standing there. Usually she'd be sitting next to him and trading stories, or would have gotten pissed off at him and left after he said something stupid.
This time was different.
Carefully, she sat on the bed next to him, then lay her legs up on it, making sure not to disturb him.
Though, as he head lay next to his, she stole a glance and realised he was still fast asleep. The steady rise and fall of his chest was all the comfort she needed right now.
She took his hand in hers then, frowning at the scrapes and cuts on them from when he beat the guy senseless. She didn't know if he got away or not, but she really doubted Coulson would have let that happen!
She let his hand lay ontop of hers, just so she wouldn't hit off the sensitive cuts. They lay on her lap as her other hand traced spirals on his wrist.
He always looked so fragile like this. Looked so much like a little kid that needed protecting. She was always more than willing to do so.
That's what partners do.
Time passed on, and she still didn't move. She just stayed there, watching her partners peaceful face.
When a flash of lightening lit the room up though she drew her attention to the window for a moment. Rain pattered against the window softly, that and his breathing being the only sound until the crack of thunder finally sounded.
"Tash.." It was soft, but it was there, and she instantly looked back to her partner.
His eyes weren't open, but his face was turned slightly towards hers and was no longer peaceful, it was kind of anguished. From what kind of pain, she just couldn't tell.
She just gave a sad smile and stroked the back of his hand with her fingers.
The one sentence that always soothed them after a mission gone wrong soon escaped her lips to try relax him.
"Relax Hawk.. I got first watch.."
The sound of the soft rain from that night was what woke her in the morning.
She gave a happy sigh and stretched herself out, letting her arms fall against the mattress to spread herself out.
She loved rainy days when there was nothing that had to be done.
She could get a fire going and just relax with a cup of cocoa..
Wait..
Where's he gone? They couldn't have released him yet and he definitely couldn't be walking!
She sat bolt upright and scanned the room, a confused look soon on her face when she realised she wasn't in a hospital room.
Just a dream, Natasha..
Clint's fine..
He got through that hell just fine..
Faced alot worse after it, but he was still fine.
And judging by the smell that was filling the place, he was fine enough to make some pancakes!
She got herself up out of bed with a little groan, her body stiff from spending all of yesterday on the mattress. He needed minding though, so she'd do it all again if she had to!
After making sure she wasn't looking like too much of a monster in the mirror, she left the room to go find her boyfriend.
Sure enough, she found the one and only Hawkeye sipping from some coffee at the counter in the kitchen, two plates of pancakes sitting at the table. It seemed like he was waiting for her.
"Good morning!" He greeted with a cheery smile, pushing himself away from the counter to go and give her a quick kiss. "Breakfast for m'lady!"
"Someone slept well." She smiled, patting his cheek gently before going to get herself a cup of coffee. Clint went to sit at the table while she did that.
"Well I did have quite a beautiful woman by my side.." He replied with a cheeky grin, and she had to roll her eyes.
She hated him sometimes.
They settled down to eat in silence, nothing needing to be said between them any more.
They never had to explain anything or try make conversation.
They were perfectly happy just being in each others company.
As she watched Clint read the paper, some pancakes constantly in his mouth as he did so, she realised that she loved him even in these moment.
In the moments where he wasn't trying to show love, the moments where he was being completely un-charming, she still loved him.
She couldn't imagine a time now when she wouldn't love him.
She could get used to this..
"Clint.." She said softly, and he looked to her with an eyebrow raised.
She gave him a little smile and reached over to wipe a little syrup from the corner of his mouth.
She wanted this every morning.
She wanted him being across from her every morning, syrup faced and all.
She didn't want anything less than what they had right now.
She didn't want anything less than the love they had right now.
They fought a long and difficult road to get here. They shouldn't be here at all, but they are, and she can't let that slip by just because she's stubborn.
She loves him. She loves him more than anything in the world. She can't lose him, she had to keep him.
"About that proposal.."