Disclaimer: Do not own Marvel or The 100

Warnings for rape threats, murder, torture and trauma

I'll keep you safe

The mission was over. And it should have been a reassurance. But it wasn't. Already, Tony, Steve, Clint, Sam, Thor, Rhodes, Wanda, Pietro and the newly made back into his human form-Bruce, were backing away from Clarke Griffin who was glaring at her romantic partner soulmate, Natasha Romanoff-the famed Black Widow.

They all knew what was coming. And Natasha knew better than anyone.

Again, Natasha had to allow an interrogation to be administered to her, in order to obtain information. She was successful, as if there would be any other outcome, and they had the information they needed to save the group of refugees currently being threatened at the edge of the east side of the country, near the Luwoda and the Trishana's territory.

But for a price. Natasha had been tied up, threatened-with multiple types of harm, including the threat of rape, one of them had even punched her, and one of them had started cutting into Natasha's right shoulder. But she had gotten the information, and Natasha had snapped the necks of all her assailants, after breaking out of her bonds.

"We were successful, Clarke," Natasha said, looking at Clarke, levelly, "We know now where the refugees are being held."

"Yeah," Clarke growled, nodding, eyes flashing dark, "But fuck forbid you ever find that information out without having to be threatened constantly. Wonder how much Fury gets off on thinking of you tied up and beaten up and threatened with rape, amongst other things."

Natasha sighed. She had known that this would be coming.

Whenever missions specifically like this one came up? Natasha had needed to make Clarke promise that the younger woman wouldn't interfere when Natasha was being interrogated, so that Natasha could gain information from those trying to torture her.

Clarke had always promised, but only because Natasha had pleaded with her to. And Clarke had promised on this mission too, because Natasha had been able to coax her to promise not to interfere.

But now? Now they had to deal with the fallout.

"It's over now," Natasha said, voice stronger, "They're dead. We killed them. When we were supposed to. After we got the information that we needed. And that was very good," Natasha had a smile on now, both because she knew it would calm Clarke, and because she genuinely was glad that Clarke had helped kill them. It had warmed her, more than it should have, to see Clarke rip her assailants apart.

She knew Clarke would do anything for her. She knew that.

And she knew that Clarke just wanted to keep her safe.

So, as soon as Natasha got the information she had required from those questioning her, she had given Clarke the signal. The signal being a phrase-"You already have what you want."

And at that signal, which Clarke would hear, even if she didn't have any communication device on her, as she had hearing that was superior to human beings' hearing, had caused her to rip through the walls and attacked those that were holding Natasha. Natasha had sprung herself loose from her bonds and had snapped the necks of the others.

Natasha and Clarke had killed them together, and she was sure that they both had enjoyed it.

She knew Clarke certainly had enjoyed it.

Not that she could blame the younger woman ever.

Hours ago, when Natasha and Clarke had killed those that had threatened and had hurt Natasha, Natasha had looked at Clarke, across from her, after all her assailants had been killed and she had watched as the younger woman had stared right back at her, Clarke's eyes at the time, black, her fangs out and sticking out from her lips, her claws extended.

Natasha had asked Clarke if she was alright.

Clarke hadn't said anything, just had walked over to Natasha, slowly, and retracted her claws, and had raised her left hand to Natasha's face and had hovered her fingers above Natasha's busted lip, staring at the harm done by the punch. She had then looked at Natasha's shoulder and had growled, asking which of the men had done that.

Natasha had nodded down at the sliced apart body of one of the men, recognizing him as the one that had stabbed her shoulder.

Clarke had snarled and had ripped herself away from Natasha and had stormed over to the man's corpse, raising her right foot up and then crashing it down onto the man's head and crushing the man's head like a hollow cardboard box, the head blasting apart upon Clarke's foot's impact, the bone of the man's skull splitting apart into splinters, blood and mucus pouring out in floods.

Clarke stepped back, grinning, fangs flashing as she dragged her foot along the floor, wiping the blood and brain matter off on the already bloody carpet.

Natasha had watched this action, both troubled, but also oddly pleased.

It troubled her that Clarke reacted like this, even when the person that had done wrong had been killed, but she also felt satisfied by such a violent action-for her. She knew Clarke would do anything for her. And that should have troubled her more. It didn't.

"They're gone," Natasha emphasized to Clarke, as the others walked back to SHIELD headquarters, "We made sure they couldn't hurt anyone again."

Clarke nodded. "Yeah?" She asked, smirking darkly, "And the next time? The next time we take care of people that deserve to be ripped apart? You gonna need to be tortured and threatened again?"

Natasha wavered slightly, speaking firmly still, "Only if the mission needs it. But this was a rare thing. You know that. This doesn't happen that often."

Clarke nodded. "I know, I know," She growled, "But it's still disgusting. Think Fury feels anything over you being in that position." A sharp fanged grin crossed her face, "Wonder if Clint's wife will like that Fury put you in that position."

Natasha felt like she should have been angered by that suggestion, but she almost chuckled. Almost. Clarke was nothing, if not inventive about handle things that she saw as threats. The problem was that as long as Fury sent Natasha out on dangerous missions like this? Clarke saw Fury as a threat.

It was true that Natasha didn't need to do what she had done on this mission-not often. But it was good to know what to do, when the time came for it.

And that already was too many times for Clarke to be able to tolerate.

And Natasha knew how Laura would react to Natasha being at the mercy of several thugs, threatening to cut her, to rape her.

Laura most likely would try to murder Fury.

Hell, Natasha knew that Clint already had several reasons he wanted to kill Fury himself-all of them involved the danger that he had allowed Natasha to be in. Well, all of them, until recently-until Wanda, Pietro and Clarke had joined them. And had given Clint more of a reason to want to protect his family from Fury's orders.

And Laura Barton? Clint's wife, and Natasha, Clarke, Pietro and Wanda's mother? Their familial soulmate?

She was even more dangerous. Clint at least, knew protocol. Laura didn't care about protocol. She'd kill Fury in a second if she knew what situations Fury had ordered not just her husband, but four of her children be in.

"I don't think Fury would survive an encounter with Laura," Natasha said, smirking, "So I think all three me, Clint and Fury would appreciate it if you didn't mention it to her."

Clarke snorted, eyes flashing again, "I bet. Fine. For you and Clint, I won't mention it to her. Couldn't care less about Fury."

Natasha nodded, accepting. She understood that.

"Come on," Natasha said, left hand raising, palm up, "Come with me."

Clarke looked at Natasha's hand and swallowed. She knew that whenever Natasha offered Clarke her hand like this, it was almost always a way of not just calming her, but inviting her to the intimacy that the two of them shared.

Clarke shifted, uncertain, at first. Then she grunted quietly, nodded and raised her right hand, taking Natasha's left hand.

Natasha smiled again and began leading Clarke away from the quinjet.

"I just want to keep you safe," Clarke said, staring at Natasha as they moved, her voice pained as her eyes turned back from red, to blue.

Natasha nodded. "I know," She said, "I know you do. And that's okay. I understand."

Clarke said quietly, but loud enough that Natasha's human ears could pick up what the younger woman said, "But it won't stop you from doing what you did today, will it?"

Natasha smiled sadly, turning to Clarke just slightly, allowing Clarke to see that sadness on the redhead's face.

"No," Natasha confessed, "It won't. And I'm sorry that it upsets you, that it hurts you. But it's what needs to be done, my love."

Clarke nodded, glowering, but still, she felt warmth spread through her at the "my love" comment.

Clarke wanted to say more and Natasha knew that, but Clarke said nothing after that. Natasha turned back to SHIELD headquarters as they walked. They could talk more when they reached her room.

She knew that that wasn't all Clarke wanted to say about the matter-not by far.

When they went into the SHIELD building, Natasha gave Clint Barton a meaningful look as he looked at her and Clarke, worried.

Clint caught Natasha's wordless look. Without even speaking to him, Natasha conveyed her message to him, "I'll take care of it, don't worry. I've got this. She just needs time."

Clint nodded, not commenting, but understanding perfectly.

Of all the people in this room, besides Clarke Griffin, Clint Barton was the person that Natasha trusted the most.

He knew that Natasha was able to handle this and that he could ask her about the matter later.

Natasha led Clarke away from the rest of the Avengers, trying not to smirk when she looked over her right shoulder and catching sight of Clarke flashing a fanged grin and her eyes becoming dark in a threatening way.

Natasha wasn't going to pretend that she didn't find it funny that most of the Avengers were scared of Clarke.

She trusted Clarke not to hurt their friends, but it was still sort of funny.

Natasha turned back to the halls of the building and walked down them, leading Clarke towards her room.

When Natasha reached her room, she opened up the door and she and Clarke went through, the doors closing behind the two of them.

The lights went on as soon as Natasha flipped the light switches.

Natasha then turned to Clarke, smiling, pulling Clarke closer to her and to the bed in the middle of the room.

Natasha sat down on the foot of the bed, pulling Clarke down onto her lap.

Clarke looked at Natasha's shoulder. "You need to get patched up." Clarke said, worried.

Natasha smiled, "I know, love. you can drink some of it, make sure it's clean." Natasha's smile widened at how Clarke gasped at the offer.

Both Natasha and Clarke knew, that Natasha offering Clarke her blood, was no small offer.

A very, very intimate invitation.

Clarke swallowed and shook her head. "I'm not going to do that," she answered, looking self-conscious, "You're not food."

Natasha smiled sadly. She knew that Clarke still wasn't willing to feed on her.

Natasha wanted Clarke to. But she knew it would take a while for Clarke to be willing to drink her blood.

"Alright," She said softly, "Then will you please help me patch myself up?"

Clarke nodded and slowly got up off of Natasha's lap, going to the corner of the room where the medical supplies were placed.

There was a medical bay in SHIELD headquarters-multiple medical bays, in fact, but Natasha, and all of the Avengers had medical supplies stored away in their room, if need be.

Clarke got some of the medical alcohol and the bandages, tape and cotton balls.

Clarke sat down next to Natasha, putting alcohol on the cotton balls and rubbed them against Natasha's wound. Natasha didn't even blink at the intense sting of the alcohol against her injury.

"Sorry," Clarke said, wincing. Though Natasha didn't even budge at what Clarke had done, Clarke knew that Natasha felt the pain, nonetheless.

"It's alright," Natasha assured Clarke, smiling, "Thank you for taking care of me, malen'kiy."

Clarke smiled, feeling heat touch her cheeks.

"O-of course," Clarke promised Natasha, only stammering a second, "I want to keep you safe, always. So, no problem at all."

Natasha's smile softened as she looked at her lover, watching as Clarke focused on patching up her lover's injury.

She knew that Clarke got self-conscious about being looked at with any sort of affection or being praised in any way.

Though, Clarke deserved it, completely.

Clarke then glanced at Natasha's lip, her eyes darkening. "What happened to the piece of shit that hurt your lip?"

Natasha chortled. "I snapped his neck," she answered.

Clarke grinned darkly before moving back to paying attention to Natasha's arm's wound. "Good," she said.

Natasha smirked. She imagined Clarke would like hearing that.

"You know that you don't need to be worried about drinking my blood," Natasha said softly, causing Clarke to pause, before continuing to work, "You're always welcome to drink my blood." Natasha lowered her voice, knowing Clarke loved that.

Clarke shivered, but didn't say anything.

Drinking blood shouldn't have been a sensual or intimate thing.

Clarke shook her head. "Just because you say I'm welcome to it," She said, not looking at Natasha, just looking at the injury on the redhead's shoulder, "Doesn't mean that I should drink your blood. It's yours and only yours. Even if you say it's alright."

Natasha tried not to roll her eyes. Clarke was so concerned about her safety, her comfort-she didn't even realize how much Natasha could deal with, was willing to offer to Clarke.

She wanted their relationship to be intimate-even more intimate than it was.

"It's alright, Clarke," Natasha said, "I trust you. I know that you'll keep me safe."

Clarke nodded and only then did she look at Natasha, her sky-blue eyes having long since replaced the red as she said in a very serious tone, "Yes, that's right. I'll keep you safe. I'll keep you safe, including safe from me."

Natasha's jaw dropped slightly at that.

Clarke nodded to Natasha. "I'll keep you safe from everyone and everything, if I can," Clarke answered, "Including from me."

Natasha huffed out a breath, and Clarke turned back to Natasha's wound, finishing patching it up.

Natasha pressed her lips together in a line as she thought about what she needed to do next.

Clarke's reaction, proved nothing, if not that very clearly their needed to be work done, to help Clarke understand that she was not a threat to Natasha-it would take a while, but Natasha knew that it would be worth it. But they would get to that…soon.