Chapter Text
Clint walks through the woods quietly. He hasn’t been here in forever, but he would never forget the path. Soon, he’s at the edge and about to emerge from the trees. Something makes him hesitate. Maybe it’s the fact that he never steps into an empty field without looking first. Or maybe it’s because one of the last times he was here, his family died right in front of him.
He visits his house a couple times a year, but only to pick up supplies from the garage. He never went inside.
But today was different. Today, he didn’t need supplies from the garage.
He needed something from the house.
So yeah, he could be frozen due to being wanted or being scared of his old home.
Or it could be because he just saw someone standing in front of his door.
He looks closer. It couldn’t be the authorities, nobody knew this place existed. No one except the Avengers. Oh no, had the Avengers told people about him?
Were they hunting him?
“Clint?”
The person is speaking to the locked door. It’s very dark and he can’t get a good look at their face. But wait, he would recognize that voice anywhere.
“Nat?” he whispers, but he knows she can’t hear him.
Good. There’s no way he’s letting her see him like this. He’s not ashamed of what he’s doing, he knows it’s important.
But something tells him Natasha wouldn’t feel the same way.
She turns around, and Clint thinks she’s going to leave, but instead she sits on the porch.
“Clint...I know you’re probably not here but, well, something tells me you-you can hear me.”
Clint leans against a tree to hear better.
“I know what you’ve been doing. Every day I get another call telling me to take care of the issue. I know you, Clint. This isn’t you. And,” she takes a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. It took me months to come to terms with - with what happened. To realize it was real. And then…” she shakes her head. “No. There’s no excuse for that. I should’ve been there for you.”
Her voice cracks on the last sentence. A moment of silence follows.
“Things aren’t going so well back at home,” she finally continues. “I mean, it looks like everyone else is getting better, but I-I-I’m a mess.”
Clint realizes she’s sobbing. He wishes he could help her, he does. But he knows it’s not an option.
“I really need you,” she cries. “I know you didn’t have me, but I really need you to come home.”
She takes a breath.
“I...I took up dancing again, so it’s pretty bad,” she laughs through her tears. Her tone becomes serious. “Clint…”
Clint rests his head on the tree and digs his nails into the bark. No, no, he wasn’t going to talk to her. She was strong. She would be fine on her own.
He turns around and runs. Away from the house. Away from Nat. Away from his old life.
He can’t, he won’t let anyone stop him. He has a job to do.
He has a job to do.