Work Text:
There are a handful of days that Natasha wishes she could erase from her life.
The day she and Yelena were separated.
The day she had to make her first kill in the Red Room
The day of the “graduation ceremony”.
Today is also one of those days.
Clint is retiring to be with his family.
She should be happy for him, but she’s not.
She doesn’t want to watch him as he says his good-byes to the other Avengers, but because he decided to fly home commercial instead of using a quinjet, she’s forced to.
It’s painful.
And all she wants to do is hide and have him come find her.
Finally, she sees the other Avengers walk away, grateful that they’re giving her and Clint privacy.
“You OK?” he asks, even though he knows she’s not.
She immediately stands from her chair and pulls him into a hug, not caring that there are others around them. “Don’t go. Please,” she sobs. “Please don’t go!”
It sounds foolish coming from her and she knows it, but after what happened in Africa and Sokovia, she wants more time alone with him to decompress. She would offer to go with him for a few days, but then it would make saying good-bye even harder.
“Oh, Nat,” he says as he runs his hand up and down her back.
“Please. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Hey, just because I’m retiring doesn’t mean I’m retiring from being your best friend,” he says. She looks up into his eyes to see that he means his words. “If you need me, you know where to find me. Even if it’s in the middle of the night.”
She nods her head as he wipes the tears away with his thumb. “I’ll call you when I get home, yeah?” he says sounding like a teenager reassuring a concerned parent. She nods her head yes. “Steve will keep you safe.”
They press their foreheads together as he lightly grasps her upper arms and for the next few minutes, it’s just Clint and Natasha; everyone else is gone and the world is quiet.
She follows him as far as the gate and with tears in her eyes, she watches as he hands his boarding pass to the TSA agent to be checked.
He turns his head to catch one more look at her. He wants to go over and give her one more hug, but it’s time to go.
He can’t hold up the line.
It was supposed to be an easy mission: get in, secure the vibrainum, then deliver it to Wakanda.
Everything went according to plan, until they were trying to leave. Apparently a lot of people were interested in what was known as the strongest metal on Earth.
They come in from all directions, forcing each Avenger to fight. It’s times like these Natasha wishes Clint was behind her. Yes she was trained to fight on her own, but having an equally-skilled partner fighting back to back was much more effective.
She ducks just in time to avoid a thug attempting a roundhouse kick to her head, and then in one motion, swipes his feet out from under him. Above her on the upper deck. Wanda is using her powers to send the men off in different directions.
She’s on our side, now. Her brain reminds her as she avoids another thug’s fist. She grabs it and takes him down. Five to go in her little group. A third man raises his gun; she pulls hers and for a brief second, they’re in a stalemate. It doesn’t last long. Suddenly the man is levitating above her before he’s dropped unceremoniously to the lower level. She looks up to see Wanda while the remaining two run away in horror.
“Guys! Head for the roof!” she hears Rhodey command through the coms.
She makes her way to the nearest staircase to do as he says, and nearly trips on the way up. She knows this area all too well.
The place where past and present had once merged together.
Resting on the middle step, she tries to calm herself.
It’s a mistake.
A loud noise echoes loudly through the warehouse and she turns around to see two thugs approaching, guns at the ready. Her eyes are filed with fear and suddenly she’s ten years old, sitting a shipping container with Yelena on her lap as the doors are opened and they are ordered to come out and stand in a line.
She stands to move, but her body won’t cooperate; too bruised and beaten from the fight.
It’s over. She thinks. They’re going to take me.
She holsters her gun and forces herself to try and stand, desperately hoping her team got out and are not currently suffering the same fate she is, but suddenly they’re no longer there.
She grabs her gun again as she looks around for them, but there’s no one in sight.
No wait, they’re floating.
She hears them yelling as they’re slammed into the sides of the warehouse and landing unconscious, a halo of red surrounding them as they do.
Wanda.
Her powers.
Red.
Please, not again.
The gun falls from her hand as she closes her eyes in hopes of not being subject to her nightmares. Clint isn’t here and Steve couldn’t help her even if he tried. When she opens them again, everything has stopped and there is a man kneeling in front of her and his lips are moving.
“Natasha, are you with me?” he asks.
She can’t stop herself from flinching away from him; too many horrible memories of men reaching for her.
“It hurts,” she whispers.
“Show me.”
“No please.”
She manages this time around to resist flinching when she feels someone cup her face. The hands are warm and strong. “Clint?”
“Clint’s not here. He’s at home with his family.”
She blinks slowly, trying to process who is in front of her and what they said.
Then it hits her.
“Steve?” she whispers.
“Yeah, Nat. It’s me.”
“Wanda, she—”
“Stopped them from taking you. It’s alright, you’re safe now,” he soothes.
He continues to talk to her as he brings her arm up over his shoulders to help her stand. Slowly they make their way up the stairs and towards an opening in the roof.
She chooses to sit in the co-pilot’s seat, not wanting to be anywhere near Wanda. Steve pilots them home and the first thing she does is go and hide in her room. She tries to convince herself that all Wanda was doing was helping her, but she didn’t see that.
Instead she sees red.
As tired as she is, she should just collapse in the rocking chair in the nursery. Nathaniel has been up every hour wanting to be fed and Laura is exhausted. She slowly begins the walk back to the master bedroom and is just about to cross over the threshold when she hears a noise in the kitchen. She ponders if it’s one of the kids, but there’s no way they’re up this late. Another sound is heard, this time sounding like a glass being set on the counter, no it’s dropped.
Reacting quickly, she enters the rest of the way into the room and wakes Clint. He rolls over and looks at her with tired eyes. “Someone’s here,” she says. Clint sits up to listen for what Larua is talking about. The sound of a cabinet being opened and closed can be heard. “Shall I wake the kids?”
“No, let me see what it is first. Listen for my signal,” he says as he gets out of bed. Slowly and quietly, he out into the hallway and down the stairs. He doesn’t want to bring a weapon because there’s a chance he knows who it is.
The light above the sink is turned on as he reaches the bottom step. He nears closer to see a body sitting on the floor staring down; broken glass is in front of her.
Natasha.
Tapping a distinct pattern on the wall to alert Laura that what she heard wasn’t a threat, he moves closer so she can see him.
“Hey,” he says hesitantly. “Are you OK?”
Natasha’s head immediately snaps to his, then back to the ground where she had dropped the glass. “I’m sorry. It just slipped.” she says pressing herself harder into the counter.
“It’s Ok,’ he says gently kneeling in front of her. “It’s just a glass.”
“But it was your glass.”
“I know. I can get another one.”
She watches as he picks up the bigger pieces and throws them away, then grabs a small broom to get the smaller ones. Eventually, he helps her up and to the bar to sit down where a bottle of vodka and another small glass are sitting.
“What’s going on?” he asks as he grabs a second glass from the cabinet.
He waits patiently for her to answer, but she doesn’t. Instead she picks up her glass and knocks it back.
“I heard you were on a mission with the new Avengers,” he prompts, hoping that will get her talking. “How did it go?”
Again he waits for an answer, but she still can’t seem to speak.
“Tasha, take a breath. You’re here with me,” he says when he sees her clench her fists.
Shakily, she does as he says.
“Tell me what happened”
“Red. Everywhere.” She takes a moment to breathe. “Wanda.”
“Oh, Nat,” he says sympathetically as he takes her hand in his. “What did she show you this time?”
“No, she was helping me.”
He continues to hold her hand as she tells him how the entire team was ambushed, then separated, and how she was cornered and almost captured until Wanda used her powers to move the men away from her, but she couldn’t get herself up to head for the exit.
“I know she’s on our side, but the red. There was just so much of it. And I. I thought she—"
“Oh Nat,” he says coming around to give her a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
He holds her tight as she buries her face into his chest and trying to muffle her sobs. Wanda’s powers have always been an issue for her and she was still getting comfortable to seeing them used in battle. If he had the opportunity to wait a few extra days before retiring, he could’ve been there with her. Maybe she wouldn’t have froze up, which judging by her story, that’s what happened.
“Can I share something with you?” he asks once her sobs have somewhat subsided. She pulls away and nods her head yes. “The day before I left, Wanda came and talked to me about what she experienced the day she got into everyone’s heads.”
“Yeah?’
“Yeah, she said that out of everyone, yours was the most heartbreaking, the most painful, and that it made her childhood seem like nothing. She didn’t want to do it, but she was just following orders.”
Natasha knows all about following orders, and she knows what happens when you don’t. She knows what happens when you freeze or show fear and she knows how bad the pain can be; how much it hurts when the guards teach her a lesson.
Suddenly, she moves away from him and drops to the ground. Her knees are pulled up to her chest. Clint moves to go down to her level, but she flinches.
“No, please don’t!”
“Don’t what?”
“I failed!” she cries. “You’re going to hurt me!”
“Nat, you didn’t fail because you froze under fire. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“But I don’t freeze. I was trained not to!” She tries to make herself look smaller. “Please, please don’t hurt me.”
Without thinking, he grabs her hands and pulls her to her feet and into his arms. She tries to struggle out of his grasp, but he only grips her tighter. She wants to scream, but she can’t knowing she’ll wake up the entire house and she doesn’t want the kids to see her like this.
“You’re not there. You’re with me.” He says rocking her back and forth.
At long last she stops struggling and sags into his embrace, the stress of the last couple days finally catching up to her. Clint knows what she needs, and there’s only one way she’ll get it.
If she’s with him.
“Hey, when was the last time you slept? And be honest with me,” he says firmly but gently as he pulls away to study her face.
“The night before you left,” she answers. Her head is down, ashamed of her answer. Clint sighs. That was nearly two weeks ago. Releasing his hold, he reaches around her to put the glasses in the sink and the bottle back in its hiding spot. “Come on. I’ll stay with you tonight.”
“Laura.”
“It’s OK. She knows you’re here.”
She takes his hand and lets him lead her upstairs to her room. She changes into something comfortable while he steps out to tell Laura what’s happening. By the time he’s back, she’s already under the covers. Slipping in next to her, he pulls her close and kisses her head. “Sleep. I’m right here with you.”
She wakes up first, feeling refreshed for the first time in days. The room is quiet, which means Clint is already up and making breakfast, as evident by the smell coming through. Sighing, she falls back asleep, listening to the muffled sounds of Laura and the kids pattering around downstairs.
She wakes again to a cup of tea sitting on the nightstand and Clint sitting in a chair and on his phone. She goes to reach for it, but she can’t help the groan that escapes her lips.
“Hey, you’re awake,” Clint greets softly. She doesn’t say anything as he comes over to help her sit up and hand her the mug before sitting back down. The warm taste of honey and lemon helps ease the scratchiness in her throat. “Laura and the kids are downstairs finishing breakfast. There’s still some left for you if you’re hungry.”
Food does sound good to her considering she barely ate the day before, but that would mean she would have to get up and see Clint’s kids.
And they would see her, the real her.
Not Auntie Nat.
She sets the mug back on the nightstand and moves again to get up, ignoring the aches and pains in her body.
“Woah, woah, slow down. What’s the rush?” Clint says as he stands to help her.
“I have to go, Clint,” she says fighting back tears. “Do you really want the kids to see me like this?”
“Tasha,” he begins as he takes her hand. She pulls away.
“No. Go and be with your family, Clint. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.”
She can’t remember where she put her shoes. Oh yeah, they’re downstairs by the door. She took them off when she came in so no one would hear her. Going into the closet, she finds a pair that she always keeps here since the room she’s in is technically hers.
Clint goes to stand in front of the door to prevent her from leaving while she finishes tying her shoes.
“Natasha, you are my family,” he says emphasizing the “you” as she comes to the door. He pulls her into a hug and runs his hand up and down her back. “I told you that from the beginning.” He pauses as he can hear her crying softly. “I’ve been worried about you since I left. You haven’t called or texted me at all.”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” she mumbles.
“You’re never a bother to me. It can be at the crack of dawn or in the dead of night. If you need me, call, and I’ll find a way to get to you.”
She rests her head on his shoulder, trying to hold onto his words. She’s missed him so much over the past two weeks.
“Why don’t you stay a few days,” he suggests. “Play with the kids, cook with Laura and me, get some actual sleep. Maybe even hold Nathaniel a couple times.”
That does sound nice. She thinks to herself. Pulling away from the hug, she goes back to the bed to take off her shoes.
“What’s for breakfast?” she asks.
He leads her downstairs where the kids are putting their dishes in the sink. They stop and come over to hug her as well as Laura. No words are spoken as they all stand in the kitchen, making her feel welcome, but not claustrophobic. She feels her body relax, knowing she belongs here, has their support and that she’s included.
It’s comforting.
Maybe staying here a few days is what she needs after all.