CW: Recounting of a murder.

Chapter 3: Confession

The next month settled into a routine for Clint and the teenage assassin he had found himself responsible for. The first three weeks Natalia was confined to her cell. It had been decided that they would attempt to break her conditioning before resuming her interrogation, but Clint had noticed and pointed out that some of it was wearing off already. The doctors and scientists all agreed that it seemed the outer layers of her conditioning had to be consistently reinforced, and if that wasn't done she could shake it off. They were figuring that had already started happening before Clint encountered her and that was why she was able to fight it. It was decided that she would be given some time to see how much progress she could make on her own before they started the deprogramming process. So, Clint spent a good chunk of his time talking with a mostly silent teen about whatever popped into his head. It was hard to tell if Nat appreciated the company or was annoyed by his constant chatter, but she didn't ask him to leave.

Coulson had provided Clint with a list of the procedures that were going to be performed on her. Some of them sounded harsh, while others were in words that he didn't even understand. Clint had insisted that Natalia be informed of what was going to be done to her ahead of time, because it wouldn't be right to just start doing things to her without telling her what was happening. Coulson agreed, and they explained to her that they would start with the easiest things first and go from there in the hope that they didn't have to go through the entire list.

The first session had been intense, to say the least. Coulson had suggested to Clint that he should sit in on it after he learned that Natalia had thanked him and addressed him by name. She still didn't trust anyone, but she was visibly more at ease when Clint was somewhere she could see him. So that was how Clint found himself sitting next to her in a room while she had electrodes attached to her temples to monitor her brain activity and several doctors working to undo her programming. He had extended his hand for Natalia to hold, but she just scoffed and ignored his offer. She changed her mind after they hit the first block and it ripped a scream out of her, and she kept a death grip on his hand the rest of the session. Clint started giving the team working on her subtle hints telling them how much stress she was under based on how hard she squeezed his hand. It would help them get through it more efficiently if they knew when she could handle more and when they needed to back off and let her recover.

After the session was over Natalia was quiet and pensive during the walk back to her cell. Clint knew she had something on her mind, but he wasn't going to push her to open up. She had to get there on her own. He had seen a haunted expression cross her face briefly when the session had ended and guessed that she was starting to remember bits and pieces of the time she'd lost. When they got to her cell and closed the door behind themselves she dropped onto the mattress and stared at the floor for a long time. Finally, she mustered up enough courage to say something about what was bothering her.

"Can I ask you something?" Nat ventured softly, not looking up.

"Of course," he told her, "What's on your mind?"

"The people I killed." she began hesitantly, finally meeting his eyes, "They were all bad people, yes?"

The look on her face was heartbreaking. She clearly already knew the answer, but there was a tiny spark of hope in her eyes that she'd hear something different. Clint felt horrible that he was about to dash that hope, but he'd promised himself during that first conversation in the safehouse that he wasn't going to lie to her if he could help it.

"Based on what we could confirm," he told her gently, "Some of them were, but not all of them. There were a good number of them that we couldn't find an obvious reason why they were a target at all."

Clint watched the faint hope in her eyes fizzle out and felt like complete shit that he'd had to do that to her. Her face fell and she resumed her staring contest with the floor, intent on winning it. Before she looked away from him Clint had spotted the tears in her eyes that she was fighting to hold back, and he pretended not to notice when she lost the battle and they started silently dripping onto her legs. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, Natalia trying to reconcile what she'd been forced to do and Clint at a complete loss for words. He knew there was nothing he could say that would ease the guilt she was feeling. He'd been there himself and knew it was something she had to come to terms with on her own.

"Hey," he said softly anyway, waiting for her to look at him before he continued, "It's not your fault. You had no control over your actions, and you aren't to blame for the things they made you do."

"I still did them." she replied in a small, hollow voice, "It was my finger that pulled the trigger, not theirs."

Clint knew it would be a long time before she could accept any absolution for the things she had done, but he was also aware that he had to maintain that she wasn't to blame or she'd start to spiral into self-loathing, if she wasn't there already.

"Still not your fault." he stated a little more firmly, "You'll have to accept that eventually."

She just offered a helpless shrug and continued staring at the spot on the floor she'd chosen.

Clint sighed as he realized that it was still too fresh for her and he wasn't going to get anywhere with the reassurance just yet.

"Do you want to be alone for a while?" he asked instead.

Nat nodded numbly, as though she hadn't really registered what he said but knew he was expecting an answer. Clint read her body language and recognized the need that she wasn't going to give into while there was anyone who could see. She needed to let go and cry. But she wouldn't be able to let herself until she was alone, if then.

Clint decided to take a chance and stepped over to her before he left. He reached out and squeezed Nat's shoulder gently in a silent show of support. She stiffened at his touch, but he was mildly surprised when she didn't pull away.

"You're going to be okay." he told her in a tone that brooked no argument, "You'll get through this."

Natalia just dejectedly shrugged again and refused to meet his gaze. She wasn't willing to accept any kind of comfort right now. She didn't feel like she deserved it. Clint sighed and wished Coulson and Hill would hurry the hell up with that intel. The more he saw of Nat's mental state, the more angry he found himself getting at the people who had done this to her.

Accepting that he wasn't going to get anything else out of his charge for the time being, Clint stepped out of the room. Just before the door closed behind him he barely caught a muffled sob followed by a whisper that wasn't meant for his ears, and his heart cracked clean in two when he heard it.

"...I'm a monster."

The next morning Clint went to check on Natalia and make sure she was handling yesterday's revelations okay. When he opened her cell door he noted that she was sitting in the same position he had left her in the night before. She looked up at his entrance, her eyes red and her face desolate. She clearly had not slept at all, judging by the exhaustion evident on her face. Clint sighed, she was already in the grip of a deep self-hatred that he knew it would be difficult to pull herself out of.

When she didn't say anything, Clint decided he should get the ball rolling.

"You're not a monster." he told her, waiting for the expected flinch when she realized he had heard her. He wasn't disappointed.

"You're wrong." she said back in an empty voice, "I killed innocent people. Many of them. What else do you call someone who does that?"

"Coerced." he replied honestly, "I know you're not a monster because monsters don't feel guilt or regret. And they certainly don't hate themselves for what they've done."

The look Nat gave him told Clint she wanted to believe him, but she was too lost in self-loathing to allow herself to. He had noticed over the last few days that she had dropped any pretense of hiding her emotions from him but still kept her mask in place with everyone else, though it was more brittle now. He wasn't sure if that meant she was starting to trust him a little or if she just didn't see the point because he could see through it anyway.

Clint knew she was still struggling with the notion that anyone could actually care about how she felt. The Red Room had done their level best to crush any emotional response she may have had into nonexistence, and whatever was left was irrelevant so long as she obeyed without question. Now she had people asking her how she felt and actually listening to the answers, and she didn't know what to do with that.

He was also well aware that the next few months were going to be very hard on her. She didn't realize how much she relied on her conditioning to function, and tended to fall back into it and let it take over anytime she was stressed or uncertain. Clint was learning to spot the difference between when she was in the drivers seat and when she was on autopilot. Her speech patterns changed and her accent was more pronounced when her conditioning was dictating things. They had only been through one deprogramming session so far, but Clint knew from his own experience that when the memories came back the nightmares would come along for the ride.

Clint had put in a request with Fury as soon he realized what was coming. He wanted Nat transferred to a double quarters with him so she had someone there when the nightmares started. It was an unconventional request since she was still technically a prisoner, but Clint was confident that she wanted the crap out of her head badly enough she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize it. Fury wasn't happy about it, but he relented when Clint made the excellent point that if they wanted her to trust them they needed to show some in her.

Nat was nervous about sharing quarters with Clint, but had agreed to it quickly enough. She constantly worried that something would trigger her conditioning and make her turn on him. They had dispensed with the manacles days ago, and she was confused by SHIELD's apparent willingness to let a dangerous prisoner walk around unrestrained. She had to be with Clint when she was out of her cell, and was not allowed in restricted areas under any circumstances, especially ones where she could get her hands on a weapon. But she was otherwise permitted a lot more freedom than a prisoner would usually have.

The quarters they were assigned was located in the training compound outside town. It had two small bedrooms, a bathroom, and a common area with a kitchen. It was identical to the the quarters of new recruits, except for the biometric lock on the door so Clint was the only one who could open it. Since she would be living in regular quarters and not a cell, Maria Hill had seen to it that she was given clothing so she didn't have to keep wearing the same thing as the other prisoners. It was a small gesture that spoke to Maria's compassionate side, because Clint knew that she had given Nat her own clothes. Maria was only a few inches taller than her with a similar build, so they fit well enough.

Unfortunately, Nat had no concept of privacy or propriety when it came to sharing space with someone of the opposite gender. The first night, she had started to disrobe in the middle of the common area to take a shower. Clint had to quickly avert his eyes when he realized what she was doing. She apparently had no idea how awkward she had made things until she noticed him very conspicuously looking anywhere but at her.

"Did I do something wrong?" Nat asked him while still standing naked in the middle of the room.

"You could say that." Clint answered her with a slight flush, "You're a teenage girl. You shouldn't be naked in front of a grown man. So not okay. People are already talking about why I wanted to room with you. If they found out you walk around naked in front of me there's no way they'll believe I'm not taking advantage of you"

"It's okay, Clint." the redhead teen said quietly, "I don't mind if you look at my body. I've been naked in front of men before."

"Not the point." he told her adamantly while staring at the ceiling and trying very, very hard not to think about the implications of what she'd just said, "I mind. You're underage and I'm in a position of power over you. It's a matter of right and wrong. Whether or not you're okay with it doesn't change that."

"I'm sorry, Clint." Nat said after a long pause, "I didn't realize it would bother you."

"It's okay." he replied, "Now go get in the shower before I accidentally see more of you than I should."

Later that night, a thought hit Clint in that twilight state right before he fell asleep. Nat taking her clothes off in front of him may not have been as accidental as he had assumed.

...Fuck.

Clint went to see Maria Hill in her office the next morning. He definitely needed a woman's perspective on what had happened the night before. The fact that she had a bachelor's degree in psychology was a nice bonus. After being assured that their conversation was off the record, Clint explained the prior night to Maria and shared the suspicion he had developed.

After he was done, Maria sat back in her chair and blew out a deep breath, "That is potentially a serious problem, Clint. I can't overstate that."

"How so?" Clint inquired.

"If our little spider isdeveloping something resembling a crush," Maria explained, "This is probably the first time in her life she's felt those kinds of feelings. The average teenage girl would have had and gotten over a dozen crushes by her age. But she's hardly the average teenage girl. It actually makes a lot of sense that this would happen if you think about it."

"You lost me, Hill." Clint admitted, "You're gonna have to explain that."

"Consider this," she began, "Right now that girl's life is undergoing some very drastic changes in a very short timespan. And you, despite the fact that she's only known you for a month, are currently the most stable and familiar thing in her world. Add in the fact that you are very possibly the first person in her life to show her any real kindness and it's a recipe for her having some very intense feelings for you right now. I don't think it's anything like what you'd call an infatuation, but you've become an important person to her through circumstance. You need to be very careful, Clint."

"So what the hell was that last night?" Clint asked, "Her behavior was all kinds of off, now that I think about it. She made a point of telling me she didn't mind if I looked at her, while standing naked less than five feet in front of me. She acted like she didn't know she was doing anything wrong, but it felt intentional."

"She was most likely testing you." Maria stated, "As much as it pains me to say it, with what you told me her exact words were I would bet money she's been viewed or possibly even used as a sex object before. She's far from stupid, and my guess is she knew damn well what she was doing and wanted to see how you'd react. She wanted to know if you saw her as a person or an object. It breaks my heart that the thought even occurred to her with as young as she is, but it sounds like you passed the test. Which is good for her but bad for you. She played you like a fiddle into a no-win situation, and it's a little unsettling how she maneuvered you into there being no resolution but the two possibilities she allowed for. Either you looked at her and proved you were like the other men, or you didn't and she moves on to the next test. And there will be more tests. She managed to do all that, and she was convincing enough that you didn't catch on until you had a chance to think about it later. If she's that good of a manipulator with the disaster she has going on in her head, just imagine how good she'll be when she has her shit together."

"Holy shit." was all Clint could offer up.

"Eloquently stated, as always." Maria said with an arched brow, "She probably has absolutely no idea how to process what she's feeling right now and she's trying to gather as much information as she can. On top of that, the first session broke through enough of her conditioning that the real her is starting to come out from where she buried it, and she's trying to figure out who that person is. Right now, one Clinton Francis Barton is her emotional anchor. I wouldn't be surprised if she already trusts you on some level and just won't admit it to herself. She's testing you because she doesn't trust her own judgment."

"So what should I do?" Clint asked, honestly at a loss.

"Don't change how you act with her." Maria instructed, "Continue to be her anchor, and help her when she struggles. Be her friend, Lord knows she needs one. But do not encourage her if she starts trying to get closer to you in the wrong ways. You cannot let her cross that boundary, Clint. She is not remotely mentally or emotionally stable enough for an unhealthy attachment like that to be anywhere near good for her."

"So what's SHIELD's goal here?" Clint thought to ask, "What are you, and Coulson, and Fury hoping to achieve with Nat?"

"You gave her a nickname?!" Maria interrupted incredulously, "You fucking idiot!"

"What's wrong with that?" Clint asked, honestly confused. He didn't understand why she'd overreact like that, it was just a nickname.

"Well, if you were trying to give her a reason to attach herself to you, you succeeded!" Maria nearly shouted, "Think about it, Clint! The girl has a name she can't stand to hear without freaking out. And you gave her a name she can actually hear spoken without losing her shit. You gave her an identity she can latch onto that isn't part of what was forced on her. Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Oh, fuck me." Clint breathed as what she was telling him sank in.

"Exactly." Maria said, "You've all but guaranteed she's going to form a strong attachment to you, possibly a co-dependent one. You've set yourself up as the most important person in her life, at least for the time being, and she is going to be fixated on you until she figures out what to do about that."

"So how do I fix this?" Clint wondered.

"I don't think it's a fixable thing." Hill told him, "You might just have to roll with it and try to guide her to the right path, if she lets you. If you push her away it will do a lot of damage to her psyche and she might never trust anyone. This is a crucial time period for her, and you've blundered into being a huge part of it."

"How crucial are we talking exactly, Hill?" Clint asked.

"Make or break crucial." Maria told him bluntly, "How she navigates the next three months or so is going to very much dictate the person she becomes. She has something right now that a lot of people wish for. A blank slate, the chance to be whoever she wants to be."

"I'd almost envy her that if it didn't cost her so much." he observed.

"Same here." Maria agreed.

"You've given me a lot to think about." he said with a smirk as he got up to leave, "Thanks for the boot in the ass, Hill."

"Hey, Clint." she said, her face relaxing into a smile, "This isn't official business, so call me Maria, okay?"

"Okay." Clint responded with a smile of his own, "Thanks, Maria."

"No problem. Take care of that girl, I'm starting to like her."

Clint was somewhat taken aback by Maria's reaction to him giving Nat a nickname. It wasn't until he was driving back to the compound a half hour later that he realized she overreacted on purpose to distract him from the fact that she didn't answer his question about SHIELD's goals. And it had totally worked.

Well played, Hill. he thought to himself with a wry grin.

That night, the nightmares came out to play.

Clint was awakened in the dead of night by a sound he didn't quite fully register. He listened for a few seconds and he heard it again. A low moan coming from Nat's room. Clint sighed and pulled himself out of bed, preparing for what would most likely be the first night of many calming her down when her brain decided to torment her.

Clint quietly opened the door and saw her fitfully moving in her sleep and mumbling. After a few seconds he heard a few distinct words slip through.

"Nyet. Katya! Nyet, ya ne khochu! Pozhaluysta, ne zastavlyay menya."

After she said that she calmed down for a few seconds before beginning to thrash violently and whimper. Clint had seen enough and moved towards her to wake her up. In retrospect, he was an idiot.

He reached out to touch her shoulder and the instant he made contact he caught a flash of movement that turned out to be Natalia's arm shooting towards his throat. He instinctively threw his hand up to block and was shocked into full wakefulness by the sudden sharp pain in the palm of his hand. The girl had stabbed him with a broken plastic knife she had swiped from the cafeteria. Clint felt stupid for letting himself get complacent enough that he forgot just how deadly Natalia really was. If he didn't have the reflexes he did there was a very good chance she could have killed him without even waking up.

While Clint was standing there silently swearing at himself for being such a dumbass and looking for a cloth to wrap his hand in, Nat was starting to awaken and realize there was someone near her.

"It's just me." Clint said quietly before she could stab him again, turning the lights on low. He found a washcloth and pressed it over his bleeding hand, "You were having a nightmare and I was trying to wake you up."

Nat spotted his injury and looked down at the blood-slicked piece of plastic still tightly gripped in her fist. When she realized what had happened her eyes shot wide open and she dropped her makeshift weapon like it had burned her. Some survival instinct Clint wished she didn't have kicked in and she scrambled backwards against the wall and made herself as small as possible. He felt a little sick seeing it. It reminded him of his own childhood reaction when his father was on a drunken rampage, and he knew what she thought was going to happen next.

"I'm sorry." she whispered fearfully, "I didn't mean to."

"I know." Clint reassured her in a soothing voice, "It's okay. It was my own fault, I should have known better than to touch you while you were asleep."

Clint suddenly felt like shit. He was the one who screwed up and provoked an instinctive reaction from Nat. And here she was apologizing for it and acting for all the world like she expected him to beat her. He sat down on the bed in the farthest spot he could get from her and made himself as non-threatening as he possibly could. He knew Nat would trust what she read from his body language more than anything he said. Words could lie, body language was more reliable. It was harder to fake.

"I'm not mad." he reassured her again with a casual shrug, "Shit happens. It was my own fault for forgetting how twitchy you are about being touched."

Clint had decided immediately when it happened that he wasn't going to tell her that she had nearly killed him. She didn't need to know that. That information wouldn't help her in any way, and would probably do the opposite given what Maria had told him.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked softly.

Nat shrugged noncommittally and cautiously moved to sit a little closer to him, but still not in arm's reach.

"It was something that happened when I was young." she told him quietly, "It came back during the session the other day and it's been in the back of my mind ever since. I've been trying not to think about it."

Clint decided to take a huge gamble and ask a question that probably wouldn't have a good reaction, "Who's Katya?"

When he said it the blood drained from Nat's face and her eyes got a haunted look, "How do you know that name?"

"You mumbled it in your sleep." he told her, "You were saying 'No, I don't want to. Please don't make me.' and I heard that name in there. I was just wondering. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

For a long few seconds Clint thought she was going to take him up on his offer and remain silent. Then she took a deep breath and started to speak in a hollow voice while staring off at nothing.

"Katya was my first friend." Nat said in a halting monotone, "But we were not allowed to have friends in there. No attachments, no emotions. There was only the mission. We tried to keep it a secret because we knew what would happen if they found out. Then they did find out and punished us in front of the other girls for it. Our punishment was being forced to fight each other to the death, as an example. One of us had to kill the other as punishment for being friends." she took a deep, shuddering breath and continued, her voice getting shakier as she went, "Katya didn't want to fight. She begged me stop while I was...was...hitting her. I said I was sorry over and over, but I didn't stop. I didn't want to do it...but they made me. They told us we would both be killed if I didn't and I was terrified because I...I believed them. I tried to refuse, but they handed me a knife and put a gun to my head." Nat stopped talking and took a few more shuddering breaths before she could continue, "Katya looked so betrayed the first time I stabbed her. I didn't know how to make it quick yet and I...I...I stabbed her so many times while she screamed and screamed. I was screaming and crying while I..I... murdered her and no one cared. There was so much blood. It got all over me. It was in my...in my hair and some got in my mouth. I..I...couldn't wash the taste out for days. Katya was my first friend...and the first person I killed."

Nat had gotten quieter and more disjointed throughout her story. By the end it was coming out in choked half-sobs with her eyes squeezed shut and tears rolling freely down her cheeks. The last thing she said came out as a barely audible, broken whisper, "We were eight years old."

After she was done speaking Nat just sat, trembling silently and waiting. What she was waiting for didn't register until he noticed her glancing at him out of the corner of her eye every few seconds with an almost fearful look. She was waiting for him to pass judgment on her, he realized. She had just told Clint how she had brutally killed another girl as a child after stabbing him minutes earlier, and now she was waiting for him to condemn her for it.

Clint couldn't decide if he was more heartbroken or enraged after listening to Nat's tale. He had seen some shit since joining SHIELD and been through a lot himself, but what Nat just told him was probably the most sickening thing he'd ever heard. No child should ever have to go through that. He knew he should say something, but hadn't the faintest idea what. Nat would probably interpret silence as an answer in itself and he didn't want her to think he hated her. After what Hill had pointed out, he realized that his opinion of her was a lot more important to her than she let on.

Fuck it, Clint thought, If she stabs me again, so be it.

Clint slid over beside her and he saw her tense up, but she didn't try to move away. He slowly and cautiously reached out and put his arm around her shoulders. She stiffened at his touch and he felt her tremors get more pronounced.

"Is this okay?" he asked softly, "I know you're iffy about being touched, so I can let go if you want."

"S'okay," Nat whispered and made no attempt to break the contact. After a few moments she let out a deep sigh and listed over until she was leaning against his chest with her arms pressed tight to her stomach like she was going to be sick.

"Now you know why I'm a monster." she whispered brokenly, "She was just a little girl. She didn't deserve what I did to her."

"You were just a little girl too, Nat." Clint pointed out, "You didn't deserve that either. You were given an impossible choice that would be cruel to do to an adult, and downright evilto do to a child. I'm not going to fault you for saving your own life when you had no power to change the outcome. I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

Nat leaned a little harder into him, breathing shakily and still trembling. Telling him what she did made it real for her and she couldn't pretend it was just a bad dream anymore.

"I will never believe you're a monster." Clint told her firmly, "It wasn't your fault. I'm glad you chose to save yourself."

"Why?" Nat asked in a hollow whisper.

Clint just shrugged and said, "Because it got you to where you are now and I'm glad you're here. I don't know if you've noticed it or not, but I'm pretty fond of you."

He wasn't expecting that to be what broke her, but when the words sank in Nat stared at him for a few seconds with her lip quivering before she gave up on fighting it and threw her arms around him with a wail. Clint was startled by suddenly having a hysterical teenager bawling into his shirt, but he recovered quickly and pulled her into a tight embrace. He felt tears start to gather in his own eyes when it occurred to him that Nat probably didn't remember anyone ever comforting her like this before.

They stayed like that for nearly a half hour while Nat cried herself hoarse with heavy, wracking sobs. Clint gently rubbed her back and whispered words that didn't matter. What he was saying wasn't important, letting her know he was still with her was. This girl he had come to care a great deal about seemed to be trying to let out a lifetime of anguish all at once, and it was taking a lot out of her.

Clint let her tears run their course before he briefly excused himself to retrieve the first aid kit. He was keeping pressure on his injury whole time and his hand had cramped up twenty minutes earlier. Nat had forgotten about it until he mentioned it and gave him a guilt-ridden look that he felt like shit for. It had been his own fault, after all. He quickly dressed his wound and returned to Nat's room to see if there was anything else she needed from him.

"Think you can try sleeping again?" he asked casually.

"I don't know." was Nat's response, "Maybe?"

"You look like shit." Clint told her honestly, "You're exhausted and emotionally wrung out. Sleep is probably the best thing for you right now.

Nat gave him an uncertain look and opened her mouth a few times to say something before apparently thinking better of it. Finally, she blurted out, "Could you stay with me? At least until I fall asleep?"

Clint smiled at her hesitance, "Sure, I can do that. But if I'm going to be in here with you I'm not sitting in that chair watching you sleep. That's just creepy. Shove over."

After Nat moved over he flipped the light off and laid down on the very edge of the bed to give her as much space as possible. He'd slept in trees on many occasions, so balancing on the edge of the bed wasn't a big deal for him.

After a few minutes of silence Nat spoke up, sounding embarrassed, "Clint? Could you...? Nevermind, it's stupid. Forget it."

"What is it, Nat?" he encouraged, "I won't think it's stupid. I promise."

"Could you..." she began before trailing off and starting over, "Could you...maybe...hold me? Please? I don't think anyone ever has before and it felt...nice."

"I thought you were a spider, not a cuddlebug." Clint said with a soft chuckle. He got a quiet snort in response as she acknowledged his terrible joke. He scooted over a little and held his arm out. Nat hesitantly moved over next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. She looked for all the world like a little girl curling up with her big brother after a bad dream.

"Katya was only the first." Nat said suddenly in a soft voice, "Out of the class of 32 I was part of, I'm the only one that survived to graduate. The others all died in training, usually killed by one of their classmates. Thirteen times that classmate was me."

"And you remember all of it now?" Clint asked softly.

"Yes." she whispered, "I remember every one, and I remember their names."

"I'm sorry." he told her sincerely, "You never should have had to go through that. No one should. What they did to you was so far beyond fucked up it pisses me off just thinking about it."

"Thank you, Clint." Nat whispered.

"What for?" he inquired curiously.

"For caring." she told him simply, "I don't remember anyone caring about happened to me before. I'm sure my parents did when I was very young, but I was taken from them when I was four and I don't remember them at all. Just knowing someone cares is a nice feeling, and I'm enjoying it."

Clint's heart was breaking listening to her talk. She was 17 years old, and this was the first time in her life she actually felt like anyone gave a shit about her existence, let alone the hell she'd been through and how she felt about it. While Nat was talking she slowly snuggled in closer to him. Clint realized she had probably been craving human contact, and she was reveling in it now that she'd broken down that barrier with him. He also noticed that her exhaustion was catching up to her and she was fading fast.

As Nat drifted off to sleep Clint murmured to her, "You're gonna be okay. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know." she mumbled back, "...I trust you."

Clint didn't say anything to call attention to it or ruin the moment. He knew how momentous that was for her, and decided to let it be.