Disclaimer: Do not own Marvel, DC or The 100
Warnings for violence, talk of extreme torture and murder
She could never deny her anything
It was an accident. Really, it was. She swore it was an accident.
The long version of what happened. Clarke Griffin had been born to two supposedly loving parents, Jake and Abby Griffin. Well, that was the story, she had been given, anyway. It wasn't the truth, as she knew now, she was adopted. She wasn't human, but Jake and Abby were human. So, obviously, she had to have been adopted.
She didn't know what she was, but she knew that she couldn't be related to Abby or to Jake Griffin. They had adopted her.
But she had no memories of her biological parents. So, she must have been adopted when she was a baby or just a year or two old.
She was closer to Jake than she was to Abby. Abby had never seemed to have time for her. And when Clarke had turned five years old, Jake had found a flaw in the Ark's oxygen system. Fearing a riot from the people of the Ark, Abby had sold Jake out to Thelonius Jaha, the chancellor of the Ark. Thelonius Jaha had had Jake arrested and had had him floated.
Clarke was only five years old. She had witnessed him getting floated and had screamed and screamed as the guards had dragged her off to the skybox, because she had known about the flaw in the Ark too.
She had been tossed into one of the Ark's skybox, where she had stayed isolated for six years years, until she had been eleven and the Ark had gone down to the ground, landing.
Clarke was isolated and lonely had become dangerous, because her powers emerged. She grew into whatever it was exactly she was, and she had been hungry. So, so hungry.
She had snapped, motivated by fear, loneliness, loss, anger, but most importantly, hunger.
She had torn the skybox door off its hinges and had thrown it across the hall.
She had then torn off other skybox doors and had attacked the people inside. From what she remembered, everything had passed in a bloody, violent blur.
She remembered screams and the sound of flesh and clothing tearing.
She knew now that she had killed multiple juvenile delinquents. She remembered hearing what their names were after recovering from her animal like mental state.
John Murphy, Roma Bragg, John Mbege, Connor, Myles, Jasper Jordan, Monty Green, Nathan Miller, Octavia Blake.
And she had killed one council member. Marcus Kane.
She had been horrified by her own actions. Truly, she was. How could she have known that she was going to do that? Hell, she hadn't even known that she hadn't been human, right?
She was horrified and when she had looked at Abby, desperate for reassurance, wanting to be comforted, Abby had stared at her in horror, as if she thought Clarke was a monster, had called Clarke disgusting and had cast her out of the Ark society, screaming at Clarke that Clarke wasn't her daughter and that she was not welcome with the Ark people. Not anymore.
And that Clarke wasn't her daughter and never had been.
Clarke had fled into the forest, scared, traumatized, not knowing what to do, not knowing what she was, not knowing how she could stop herself from being what she was.
She had stayed in the forest, for months, eating animals and staying away from the Ark and the camp that they had set up that they had called "Camp Jaha."
And that was when the Mountain Men had found her.
They had grabbed her and had dragged her into the mountain. Clarke could have stopped them. If she was strong enough to tear a metal door of her skybox off, she easily could have stopped a bunch of people from grabbing her.
But she hadn't. Because why would she? It was obvious that she wasn't wanted by her own people. By her own mother. And she couldn't go back to her people, anyway, not after what she had done.
So, she had let the Mountain Men take her.
There, she had met Dante Wallace. And his son, Cage Wallace. She had taken an immediate disliking to Cage. But Dante was nice.
There, eleven-year-old Clarke had stayed for a few months, till she had learned their secret.
That they hunted and captured and tortured people from the tribes that lived in North America.
She had found a lever that was connected to the mainframe of the mountain. And unable to think of doing anything else to stop the Mountain Men from continuing their reign of terror, she had pulled the lever and had opened up all the doors and windows of the mountain, letting lethal air into it and killing all the Mountain Men. The children and babies included.
She had stood there in the control room where she had pulled the lever, numb, cold.
She, a eleven-year-old, had just killed an entire people. And had killed dozens and dozens of children and babies.
This, had, without really needing to be said, traumatized her deeply.
She had walked numbly down to the prisons where the people of the tribes, the "Outsiders," as the Mountain Men called them, were kept. She unlocked each of the cages and had told them that it was safe to leave now, that all the Mountain Men were dead and that she had killed them.
They had then promptly called her "Wanheda," which they had explained meant "Commander of Death."
Clarke had felt her heart almost give out, hearing that. It had been like someone had taken a knife and had cut her heart out.
She convinced herself, hearing that title for her, that she was a monster. Because what else would you expect of someone who had done what she had done?
There had been, as far as she had been able to tell, no other explanation.
She had screamed at the Outsiders to get out or she would kill them. Given what she had just told them she had done, they hadn't argued and they had fled.
After they had fled, Clarke learned later on that they had spread the story of what she had done and every tribe, as a result, was to know of "Wanheda." The Commander of Death.
She had gone out of the mountain and again, into the forest. She had stayed there, newly traumatized, just sitting in the brush, with her knees against her chest, staring off into the darkness, numbed up completely at that point.
Eventually, word had gotten around enough to different tribes about what Wanheda did and a young girl with light blonde hair and blue eyes had killed off all the Mountain Men. A young, eleven-year-old girl calling herself Klark Grifin. So, by that point, all the tribes had known Clarke's name and what she had done.
Word reached the Ice Nation in Canada.
And the Azgeda had come for Clarke. One day, when a numbed up, unfeeling Clarke, had been hunting some deer for food, biting and eating them, the Azgeda showed up and grabbed her.
And because Clarke was in so much pain and decided that as a mass murderer, she got whatever she deserved, she hadn't even tried to stop the Ice Nation from taking her back to their tribe.
She had been taken to the Ice Nation and had been placed before the Ice queen, Nia.
Nia had looked at Clarke with skepticism and had commanded that Clarke do as she said and fight for her.
Clarke was too numb to do anything else, except nod.
So, from henceforth, she was a murdering dog for the Ice Nation.
Because stealthy warriors had taken Clarke secretly and because Clarke hadn't put up a fight, no one had known that Clarke had been abducted by the Ice Nation, except for the Ice Nation.
It only got back to the rest of the tribes, and to the Avengers, the Justice League and the X-Men of where Wanheda had been, years after Clarke was first grabbed by the Ice Nation, almost nine years later, when Clarke had been almost twenty years old.
And that news only got back to everyone else because of a very specific incident.
During her time with the Azgeda, she had gone on an assassination trip to North America. She had been with four other Azgeda. Her and the other four, four years after accepting her place as an Azgedian, were completing a job and eliminating their target. And Clarke had been seen by someone who recognized her.
Her closest childhood friend and closest to what she knew to a brother, Wells Jaha.
He had recognized her and had yelled after her. She had left with her people, the Azgeda and had gone back to Canada.
But Wells had from then on, known who Clarke was with. so, he had gathered together a group of Sky People to try to get her back.
The problem was that one individual had decided to stowaway on the large vehicle Wells and his team had taken to Azgeda, had been an individual, who had meant to kill Clarke out of revenge.
The older brother of one of Clarke's victims of when Clarke had lost control in the skybox.
Octavia Blake's older brother, Bellamy Blake.
When the team got to the Ice Nation, Wells and his group were immediately incapacitated by the Ice Nation guards and thrown into prisons. Bellamy was found in the back of the vehicle and had also been imprisoned.
When the other Sky People had seen that Bellamy had been with them, they were outraged.
They had screamed at the smirking, ugly looking man and then, Clarke had interrogated the other Sky People enough times to know why they hated Bellamy so much.
As it turned out, for good reasons.
Bellamy was a pedophile. He slept with underaged girls. It didn't matter to him if they were as young as thirteen or fourteen. If they were developing in any way? He had had sex with them. He was a rapist.
But he claimed he wasn't because he said he didn't force any of them to sleep with him.
Automatically, Clarke had understood why the Sky People had hated this disgusting pig of a man.
Being a full-grown adult, it was his responsibility not to go near children and ask them for sexual favors or anything like that. He had more power, as a full-grown adult, than a bunch of children did.
So, she had decided to give the pedophile what he deserved.
She had chained Bellamy Blake to the wall the next day, had gagged him so that he couldn't talk back to her. She could have cut his tongue out, but she had wanted to hear his screams.
She had then mocked the pig about how she had loved tearing his sister, Octavia's throat open, and how if she could, she would do it again happily.
She had watched, grinning, as the ugly pig had tried screaming at her, enraged, but couldn't, through the gag.
She had then continued. She had taken the batch of torture weapons and had begun cutting into the pig, Bellamy Blake.
What she had done, was better left to things like horror movies. Skinned him, cut him open, fed all of his organs and skins to the dogs. And she enjoyed it.
It had been funny for her to watch.
She had then placed Bellamy's ugly, decapitated and skinless head on a sharpened stick, outside of the Azgeda's walls.
For her? That was fun. So much fun.
But it had attracted the attention of many villagers, who had spread the story throughout Canada, about how Wanheda had tortured a rapist to death. The word spread and more and more tribes had heard it.
And at some point? Word got back to the Avengers, the X-Men and the Justice League.
The thing was this, everyone had soulmate marks on them, along with names next to those marks, identifying the soulmate.
So, out there, there were multiple people with Clarke Griffin's name them, marking them as Clarke's soulmate in some way.
And they had learned from hearing the stories from those who had escaped the mountain, that Clarke Griffin was Wanheda.
So, when word got around that Wanheda was in the Ice Nation and that she had just tortured a Sky Person, who was a pedophile, to death, everyone knew.
Including Clarke Griffin's true mates.
And what happened in response? Two years later, when Clarke was almost twenty? The Avengers came to the Ice Nation, looking for Clarke.
This had ended very badly for a good number of the Avengers. When they had seen Clarke, Clarke had incapacitated them easily.
Which showed just how strong she was, whatever species she was. Thor, a god and the Hulk, arguably the strongest Avenger, had both been thrown through the air effortlessly by Clarke, and flung all the way off the coast of Canada, into the ocean as Clarke had laughed at them.
Ironman had zoomed at her, but she had torn his armor right off and had broken his left leg easily, throwing him against the snowy ground as he had groaned. Clarke whirled on the others, grinning. She had dispatched James Rhodes in the same way as she had Tony Stark, then she had torn the Falcon-Sam's mechanical wings right off, leaving him bound to the ground as she had tossed him across the ground effortlessly.
She was hesitant to manhandle Steve Rogers, as her daddy had told her hero stories about Captain America.
Her father had idolized Captain America, telling Clarke about all the things the great Steve Rogers had done in World War II.
So, it was with great difficulty, that Clarke had grabbed Steve's shield and to everyone's shock, despite the shield being made of vibranium, had snapped the shield in half and had tossed it into the ocean, then had grabbed the shocked Captain America by his suit and had asked him roughly, "Can you swim, Captain?"
She had doubted that he couldn't swim, but she had needed to know. She had had no intention of killing one of the greatest heroes she knew of.
He had appeared surprised, but had nodded and Clarke had tossed him into the ocean with his friends and split apart shield.
Finally, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff had approached. Clint had raised an arrow containing knockout gas, but Natasha had put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
Clint had given her a startled look and Natasha had walked forward, getting closer to where Clarke stood.
Natasha had said gently to Clarke, reaching her right hand out, offering, "Come with us, Clarke. Come with us. It's okay. You don't have to stay here anymore. You can come with us."
Clarke had tried to summon a snide remark, but couldn't, at least, not when she had met her eyes with Natasha's emerald eyes, making Clarke's words die in her throat.
She had heard the stories. That as soon as someone locked their eyes with the eyes of their soulmates, they changed entirely as a person.
She had never understood what that meant, and had dreaded what it might mean for her.
And when she had locked eyes with Natasha Romanoff, everything had changed.
She had met Natasha's eyes and she had felt everything else seem inconsequential.
Nothing else mattered. Just Natasha.
Clarke had felt her heart stop as soon as she had locked eyes with Natasha's eyes. She gasped, almost stumbling as she felt her bond solidify with Natasha.
It would be very hard for her to convey what exactly it was she had felt when that bond clicked in place.
Love wasn't a strong enough word. Adoration wasn't either. Worship or devotion probably wasn't accurate either, yet it was closer than any of the other words.
Natasha smirked, appearing to be able to see what it was Clarke was thinking and that she now had a hold on the younger woman.
Natasha had repeated her words more softly this time, "Come with me."
And Clarke, she had been unable to do anything, except do as Natasha commanded. She had taken Natasha's hand, feeling a spark of her true mate connecting and she had allowed Natasha to lead her back to the Avengers' super jet.
Clint had followed them, looking both awestruck and worried. Steve and Sam got out of the water and the Hulk, having turned back to a terrified and shaken Bruce, stumbled out of the woods and so did a shocked Thor. They helped Tony and Rhodey back to the jet.
Clarke growled and grinned at them as they had entered the jet. The grin on her face, was not a nice one.
She then had told Natasha and Clint that a friend of hers was locked up in the Azgeda dungeons and had asked that her best friend and brother, Wells Jaha, needed to be let out.
Natasha had nodded and had asked that Steve and Clint try to get Clarke's friend and the other Ark people out.
The people of the tribes called people from the Ark, "Sky People," but the Avengers, the Justice League, the X-Men and the faux "modern," communities amongst the tribes, called people from the Ark, "Ark People."
Clarke preferred that name. Sky People somehow felt a little too reverent. Like the people from the Ark got respect that they didn't earn.
Steve and Clint had gotten Wells and the rest of the living Ark people out of the dungeons and had them join the Avengers on the super jet.
Wells was shocked to see Clarke there, but had hugged her as soon as he was done taking in that she was in the super jet and not with the Azgeda anymore.
Clarke had hugged him back, just glad that he didn't hate her, despite all she had done.
So, they had gone. From the Ice Nation, back to what used to be called New York City. Where the Avengers' base was.
Clarke was confronted with Fury, and despite her growling at him, Natasha had stayed by her side, holding her hand gently, but the warning look in her beautiful green eyes told Clarke not to do anything too extreme.
It wasn't that Clarke thought that Natasha would hurt her. She knew she wouldn't. Even if Clarke wasn't a thousand times stronger and faster than any of the Avengers or anyone with powers, she knew Natasha would never hurt her. Which was ironic, since only a few hours ago, before Clarke had met Natasha, she hadn't trusted anyone after all she had gone through and all the death and betrayals she had seen over the years.
But Natasha's warning glance was enough to let her know she'd be in trouble with her mate if she was too vulgar.
Clarke had just tossed out the occasional passive aggressive remark at Fury, but that was about it.
Fury had wanted Clarke to join the Avengers. Clarke had laughed at him, then had noticed he wasn't laughing too, and had said, "Oh, you're actually serious, huh? Well, here's my answer. No."
When Fury was about to open his mouth, Clarke had asked, smirking, "And what are you going to do to make me? Are you forgetting how strong I am? Go ahead and try to see if the Raft will keep me restrained. I'll break out of it easily. And even if I don't? I'll take it any day over hearing your drivel."
This had easily shut Fury up.
So, Clarke had become somewhat of a fixture in the Avengers' lives, but unless she felt like Natasha might be in dangerous? She never went on those trips to defend people.
Clarke also met SHIELD agent, Maria Hill. And she had met yet another of her soulmates.
As soon as she had met Maria's eyes, one day while wandering the halls of the base, waiting for Natasha and the others to get back, she had run into Maria, and had met Maria's eyes and she had felt the bond go into place.
Clarke, like before, when she had first met Natasha in the Ice Nation? Had felt herself unable to formulate a sentence as she had stood before Maria.
She had been at a loss for words, but thankfully, Maria had enough for the both of them right then.
"Well," Maria had said, smiling, and Clarke heard Maria's heart skip a beat as the brunette had smirked with satisfaction, "I was wondering when you would come and find me, Clarke."
Clarke had felt ridiculous. Because naturally, both Maria and Natasha had known that they shared a soulmate. They both had likely had seen each other's soulmate marks on each other's wrists, and the name that accompanied those marks.
Clarke felt sort of silly for being surprised at that.
She had said, at last getting some words out of her stubborn throat, "I…nice to meet you, agent Hill."
Maria had chuckled, "You don't need to call me 'agent Hill.' For now, you can just call me, 'Maria.'"
Even then, even in her shock, Clarke had suspected there was more to that statement, "for now, you can just call me, 'Maria.'" More than just friendliness and she had wondered even then if there had been an innuendo in that comment. She had learned later, that yes, that had been an innuendo, but she wouldn't learn that until later.
And she at the time had just ignored it and had said, "Oh, right. Thank you, Maria."
Maria had smiled, pleased and Clarke had tried to ignore how her heart also had skipped a beat.
Maria had led Clarke to one of the main rooms and had shown the blonde to a couple of chairs, and they sat down and had faced each other.
Clarke had been nervous. Because she didn't want to screw up the two best relationships in her entire life.
But Maria had been understanding and had helped her along in the conversation.
It had startled Clarke that when the conversation had begun going, it went along smoothly.
While Clarke had had some meaningful conversations with Natasha at that point, Clarke had still been nervous about prying too deeply, worried that she'd make Natasha leave.
But Clarke was surprised to see that she was getting more confident in her questions.
And Maria hadn't minded, at least, it appeared that she hadn't mind.
So, when Natasha and the others had come back, and Natasha had come to the main room, finding Clarke and Maria talking together, she had looked, to Clarke's confusion, pleased.
When Clarke had stood up from her chair and Maria had stood up too, Natasha had reached out for Clarke, giving Clarke enough time to both pull away or refuse, but Clarke hadn't and Natasha wrapped her arms around Clarke's middle, pressing herself to Clarke's back, making heat fill Clarke's cheeks uncontrollably.
Natasha had said, smirking, as Maria had grinned at them, "I'm so glad that you've acquainted yourself Maria too."
Natasha and Maria both had incredibly smarmy smirks on their faces, like a couple of cats that were about to eat a very fat, juicy, tasty canary.
Clarke had kept blushing, but she had felt the heat between her legs. Whatever they wanted to do to her? She was more than happy to just let it happen. She still was, and they had always known that. They still knew that.
It hadn't taken long till she had ended up in bed with both of them, between them, the both of them having their way with her, groping, stroking her breasts, stroking her sides, kissing and biting her neck, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs and calves and finally, burying their faces in her dripping cunt.
Clarke had clawed the bed and had arched up as Maria had licked up and down her lover's clit and Natasha had darted her tongue in and out of Clarke's tight cunt over and over again.
They had continued to fuck throughout that very night. After they were finished making Clarke cum the first time, Maria thrust four fingers into Clarke and pounded her as Natasha put her mouth around Clarke's clit and sucked.
After Clarke's second orgasm, Maria and Natasha flipped her over onto her stomach and got her up on her elbows and knees, and they each inserted two fingers into her cunt, taking her from behind as she screamed into the pillow.
Soon after, they both flipped Clarke over onto her back and grinded themselves against her, Natasha pressing her clit against Clarke's and riding her viciously until they both came. Then Maria had straddled Clarke and had done the same.
Throughout the months, it continued like that. And it was never awkward, at least, it never was awkward for Clarke. And she was almost sure that it wasn't awkward for either Natasha or Maria.
One time in the kitchen, Clarke had caught a glimpse of Natasha with her shirt unbuttoned all the way open and she had swallowed, feeling heat strike her stomach then. Natasha had caught her gaze and had understood, smirking. Maria had been in the room with them, and they both had caught Clarke staring. They had removed themselves from where they had been standing in the kitchen and had begun moving closer to where Clarke was.
Clarke had been startled and had moved back up against the wall as both older women closed in on her.
Natasha had said, "You want to stop, tell us."
Clarke had quickly shaken her head. "No," she had promised, "I don't want you to stop," she had added in an excited, but shaky voice, "I'd very much like it if both of you fucked me against this wall."
The satisfied smirks on both Natasha and Maria's faces had been the hottest things that Clarke had ever seen.
And Clarke had just let Natasha push her left thigh between Clarke's legs, pressing Clarke's cunt with that thigh, making Clarke whimper.
Maria had pressed against Clarke too, mouth on Clarke's neck, gently biting her and stroking Clarke's breasts and her available hand reaching down and stroking Clarke's clit.
Clarke had cried out as she had come against them.
But they had been far from finished. Soon, Natasha had bent Clarke over a table, almost her entire right hand inside Clarke's pussy and Maria had played with Clarke's tits.
They had pinned her down to the table, rolling her onto her back and had spread her legs, one of them holding her arms down to the table, the other getting between her legs and devouring her cunt.
Clarke was unimaginably strong. She could have stopped them. But she hadn't wanted to, and she hadn't stopped them. She had wanted them to dominate her completely. To own her.
And both Natasha and Maria had been more than happy to fulfill those dirty little wishes of hers.
It had gotten even better when Natasha and Maria had eventually included toys in their little sessions.
The number of times Natasha had fucked Clarke with a strap-on and the number of times Maria had fucked Clarke with a strap-on, were now too many for Clarke to count.
Never mind the vibrators they'd stick inside Clarke, making her wear one all day under her clothing.
One day, there was a mission that Natasha and the other Avengers had gone on. It had involved something HYDRA was doing, because what else was new?
When they had come back, they had revealed something disturbing. Two young adults, named Pietro and Wanda Maximoff, were working with HYDRA.
Clarke had almost dropped her bottle of beer when she had heard that. Wanda. Wanda Maximoff? One of her soulmates?
Natasha had told Clarke this, and since she and Maria had basically seen every inch of Clarke's body, including Clarke's chest, they knew every name of Clarke's soulmates.
Including the name, "Wanda Maximoff."
"She was there?" Clarke had asked Natasha vulnerably, heart hurting. She had formed a very, very close bond with Natasha and Maria. But the thought that one of her other soulmates might have willingly joined a faction of the Nazis?
That hurt her worse than she possibly had imagined it to ever hurt.
Sure, Clarke had joined a murderous tribe like the Ice Nation, but they weren't like the Nazis. They wanted to rule over others, but they didn't kill people just because they could or they wanted anyone they deemed as different to die. They didn't kill out of bigotry.
The Azgeda weren't bigots. They were murderers, but not anti-Semites, racists, homophobes or anything like that. They killed because they got rid of enemies and often were treated like pariahs by the rest of the tribes.
Natasha was raised by HYDRA, but had had no choice. Which had made it all the more admirable that Natasha had left HYDRA on her own, with some help from Clint Barton.
Natasha hadn't willingly joined. She had never had a choice. And Clarke would fight to the death with the conviction that the Azgeda weren't anything like HYDRA. Regardless of the tortures she had experienced and witnessed there.
To hear that Wanda Maximoff, one of her mates and Wanda's brother, Pietro, had joined HYDRA. Had willingly joined Nazis.
That night, Natasha and Maria had held Clarke close, whispering to her lovingly. That night, the two of them most likely would have pinned Clarke to the bed and had their way with her over and over again, to help distract her, but that hadn't ended up being an option, thanks to Tony and Bruce.
Tony had taken some AI and he and Bruce had created a murderous program. Ultron.
It was the closest that Clarke had come to killing the two of them, when that murder robot had tried to kill them and could have potentially killed Natasha or Maria.
Clarke was too powerful for her to have been killed by anything, let alone some failed sixth rate robot, but the robot had tried to kill Maria and Natasha. That alone was enough reason for Clarke to want to permanently and completely erase Ultron from the world.
Then when they eventually met the Maximoff twins in a boatyard in Wakanda, Clarke had felt the bond form when she had met Wanda Maximoff's eyes, but had also seen Wanda use her brainwashing abilities on Natasha. And Clarke had lost control. She had screamed and her claws slipped out of her fingers and leapt at Wanda, claws inches from her mate's neck.
Wanda's eyes widened and her eyes became filled with tears.
Wanda whispered, voice said, "I've looked for you for so long, Clarke."
Clarke had hissed and snarled, "Get your power away from my Natasha, Wanda. Or it will end badly."
Finally, Wanda reacted. She had looked from Clarke to Natasha, tears still coming. "I'm sorry," she whispered, realizing what she had done and had backed away, "I didn't mean-"
"Yes, you did!" Clarke had spat at her, "I can't fucking believe that I'm connected to a couple of Nazi sympathizers."
That caught Wanda's attention. Wanda had stared at Clarke, shocked. "What?" She had asked, "Nazis?"
"Uh, yeah," Clarke had snorted, "HYDRA? Ever hear of 'em? They're a faction of the Nazis. They're the faction that survived after World War II. They've been trying to take over America and the rest of the world for almost centuries now."
Clarke's eyes had widened as she had realized that Wanda truly hadn't known.
"You and your brother really didn't know?" She had asked, surprised.
Wanda's lost look had told Clarke all she had needed to know. No. Wanda and Pietro hadn't known.
Clarke would have felt total sympathy, but she knew she needed to make sure Natasha was safe.
At that time, Natasha was lost in her mind, lost to her own trauma.
She needed help.
Clarke had sighed and had turned from Wanda, helping Natasha away from where Wanda had been. Clint thankfully, also had avoided being hit by a brain probe from Wanda's powers.
He had helped Natasha sit down on some metal steps and had helped Clarke hold Natasha.
Soon after that disconcerting incident, when Natasha and the other Avengers lost in their memories got out of it, Clarke had cupped Natasha's face between her hands and had whispered gently to Natasha, asking if she was alright.
Natasha hadn't responded, disturbed, but trying to hide it.
It had hurt Clarke deeply to see Natasha like that and feel like she couldn't say what was wrong and say what it was that she needed.
As Ultron had been hunting for them, they had needed a place to hide.
Clint had told Clarke and Natasha that he could keep the two of them safe. But he wasn't going to trust the other Avengers with his fragile family.
So, when Bruce, Tony, Steve and Thor went into hiding, Clint had allowed Clarke and Natasha and only to hide at his place, Clarke had gotten to see Laura Barton and how she acted when Natasha was there.
To Clarke's surprise, Laura treated Natasha like she was one of her own children, holding the redhead and checking Natasha, making sure that Natasha hadn't been hurt in any way.
But then, Natasha had told Clarke that Clint and Laura were her familial soulmates, just as they were Clarke's.
These were the same familial soulmate marks that Clarke had on her back and that Natasha had on her back, signifying Clint and Laura Barton as their familial soulmates.
Clint trusted the Avengers, but not enough to let the rest of them know where his family was.
Clarke had figured that out, but it had been nice to hear it from Clint, anyway.
And when Laura had come over to introduce herself to Clarke, Clarke had been shocked when Laura had taken her into her arms and had hugged her and had started looking her over in the same way she had Natasha, as if she was worried for her own child.
Thinking back on it, Clarke had figured that she shouldn't have been surprised. She had seen how Clint had looked at Natasha in that boatyard. He had looked at her as if she was his child that he had feared for and had just seen injured.
Clarke had glanced at Clint and Natasha and they both looked at her, pleased, smiling.
They had planned this. To welcome her into the family. Clarke had almost cried. Natasha had already done so much for her. And now, she was giving her another family?
Clarke had already gained one by her time around Natasha and Maria and to an extent, the other Avengers. But this? This was overwhelming for her.
And Clint and Laura's biological children all greeting her and smiling at her, the children named Jillian, Cooper, Lila, Zachary and Jessie, they were so, so sweet and affectionate and guileless, having no idea how dangerous Clarke actually was.
But all five siblings had embraced Clarke like they had always been Clarke's brothers and sisters.
Soon, Wanda and Pietro had learned what Ultron's intentions truly had been. So, they had left and had tried to join the Avengers.
However, when Natasha was abducted by Ultron? Clarke had lost it. She had almost lunged for Wanda, when Wanda and Pietro entered Stark Tower, trying to stop Stark and Bruce from using the AI that they were creating, Vision. But Wanda had promised Clarke that she would help. Clarke had scoffed and had left, smelling Natasha's scent.
She just had needed to know what had happened to her precious Natasha.
Eventually, she had tracked down Natasha's scent to where Natasha had been kept behind a cage door. She had broken the cage door open and had told Natasha, desperately, after she had kissed her goddess, that she, Natasha, Maria, Clint, Clint's wife and children, and maybe Wanda and Pietro too, could all run. The thirteen of them could leave together and let the rest of the world burn. And Clarke had wanted to. She still did.
But Natasha had smiled sadly and had said, "You know I adore you, right?" Clarke had felt her heart skip a beat, but she also had understood from the sad tone in Natasha's voice, that Natasha hadn't been planning on her and Clarke and Maria and the others leaving together and letting the world to its well-deserved fate.
Natasha had said then, "But I have to go stop Ultron. It's alright. You don't have to."
Those words had hurt Clarke deeply. There hadn't been any accusation or disappointment in Natasha's voice when she had said that, just stating it as fact. That Clarke could do what she wanted and Natasha would give no judgment whatsoever.
Clarke had nodded, pained and had known what her own decision would be. She might have hated the world. But she could never, ever leave Natasha's side.
So, she had scooped Natasha up and had leapt up out of the pit where Ultron's hideout had been and flew through the air, flying and carrying her lover and mate and going off to Sokovia.
Clarke had tried to ignore Natasha's smile and adoring look the whole time. She always wished that she wasn't happy whenever Natasha was proud of her. But she was.
It had always made Clarke's insides feel all warm and fuzzy.
So, Clarke had gone to Sokovia with Natasha and they had helped stopped Ultron. Clarke had ripped Ultron apart, crushing his final body after the rest of his bodies had been destroyed, smirking smugly at the new AI, Vision, whom Clarke had decided that she automatically didn't trust, because Vision had been made soon after Ultron, by the exact two people who had made Ultron; Tony and Bruce.
And then she had gone back to join Natasha. They had heard from Maria that she was safe with Fury.
That was good to hear for her. Clarke was worried about Maria. Both of the Maximoff twins, Wanda and Pietro, joined them and Wanda had looked at Clarke desperately.
Clarke had wanted to remain angry at Wanda, but Natasha had reasoned with her, saying that Wanda hadn't known about them working with a faction that were Nazis until Clarke had told them. And she had pointed out that the Maximoff twins had helped them.
When Clarke had demanded why Natasha was protecting them, Natasha had said smiling, "Because one of them is another one of your mates."
Those words had hit Clarke hard. It hurt that Natasha loved her so much. So damn much.
She wished Natasha didn't love her. Because Natasha deserved so, so much better. So much better.
Clarke had smiled at Natasha, so grateful and so adoring. "You deserve so much better than me," she had told Natasha, "You know that, right?"
Natasha had looked amused but also sad at Clarke's remark. "I deserve to be with the woman I love." She had said. She then had added, a warning in her tone, "Do not talk about yourself like that, love." And that had been that.
So, Clarke had given Wanda Maximoff a chance. Just as Clarke's closest and most beloved soulmate, Natasha had asked her to. Because as Clarke had learned over time?
She could never deny her goddess, Natasha Romanoff, anything.
Author's note
Have worked on this project for a while. Just uploaded it because I decided it might as well be time.
Also, why do I always make Clarke so ornery?