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The In Between: Aftermath

Summary:

Locked safely in their room, Natasha helped Clint over to the lavish bed before allowing herself to sag against the far wall.

Breathe, just breathe.

They were going to pay for that in the morning. She could already hear Tony rattling on about their sleeping arrangements, but one glance over at her now shirtless partner she really didn’t care.

Or the aftermath of Avengers

Notes:

This part 2 of a series I wrote in 2012.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“All right, kiddies, off to bed!”

Natasha’s teeth grated together, listening to Tony’s voice sing-song down the hall. His standard shit eating grin was plastered across his heavily bruised face, only adding fuel to the fire.

At the moment, she wanted nothing more than to deck the smug billionaire. Weighing the pros and cons, she decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Besides, she was almost positive if she let go of Clint now, one or both of them was going to topple over, considering she had been supporting him for the last few hours.

Once Loki was detained, their ragtag group obliged Stark with a trip to his Shwarma joint. The food hadn’t been as bad as she’d been expecting, but honestly, she was more concerned about her partner than what they were eating at the time.

Clint was hiding it well from the others, even if she could tell from the subtle favoring of his left leg that he’d done something monumentally stupid getting off the roof. Knowing her stubborn ass partner as she did, Natasha knew Clint would rather suffer in silence than show weakness in front of their new teammates. Even if that meant walking down several flights of steps and four blocks on a fractured tibia and a possible dislocated knee.

Men, she thought with a roll of her eyes. Glancing at the hard set of his jaw, she understood the desire to remain strong no matter the cost better than most. Casually, she sat facing her partner at the half-demolished restaurant, leaving enough room for Clint to prop his leg up on her chair.

He offered her a silent thank you before they both went about picking at their food for the next hour. The group ate in silence; each too lost in their own thoughts or just too damn tired to muster up the energy to talk.

Natasha and Clint exchanged glances every few minutes, speaking volumes without a single word passing between them.

This was their way, their language.

It hit her mid swallow just how close she came to losing this, losing him. Bile rose in her throat with the realization that his demise had almost come by a stroke of her own hand. A well-executed cough covered her miss swallow. Clint caught her alarm and furrowed his brow in concern.

Later, she pleaded with her eyes. She didn’t want to do this here, not with Tony watching their every move. He continued to study her for a second longer before nodding in agreement.

Unfortunately, due to all the destruction and alien bodies littering the streets of Manhattan, they had to walk another two blocks to get to the carrier sent to take them back to base. Clint made it a block and a half before his knee started to give out on him. Natasha admitted that she was impressed that he made it this far.

With a purposeful stumble, Natasha caught herself with a strategic arm around Clint’s waist. From there on out, they walked/limped their way back to the shuttle with Clint’s arm wrapped securely around her shoulder. If the others noticed, they didn’t comment on the two agents ’ support of one another.

They arrived back at base with much fanfare. After the medics confirmed her suspicions regarding Clint’s leg, they wrapped his knee up tight, gave him a hefty dose of a rapid healing serum, and sent them packing. Surreptitiously, Natasha swiped a bottle of pain meds for when the adrenaline high wore off and the pain set in.

With all the wounded civilians and agents from the Hellicarrier, the base was packed beyond capacity. Tony offered up the lower levels of what remained of Stark Tower as temporary housing for his fellow teammates. Thor opted to stay behind at the base to keep an eye on Loki, lest he try to escape again, while the rest of the team took Stark up on his offer. Bruce was given his own floor as a precaution, while Steve, Clint, and she took the next floor up.

“Cap, your room is to the right, and that leaves Robin Hood and Maid Marianne down the hall, last two rooms to your left.” Brown eyes sparkled with mischief as Tony watched the two agents hobble down the hall, his comment earning a one-fingered salute from the Hawk.

Tony had ample time to observe the spies while they enjoyed their Shwarma. It didn’t escape his notice over the past two days that his old friend, the delectable Black Widow, was more concerned with finding her wayward partner than saving all mankind. A tidbit of information that piqued his interest, especially considering what he knew of the little vixen from their first meeting a year prior. Tony pegged her as a man-eater; perhaps he was too hasty in his initial evaluation. The newest member of their little group seemed to have the ability to tame the wild red head, a curious and admirable ability indeed.

Yep, they were definitely sleeping together, he deduced when the two disappeared into one of the rooms, the lock clinking into place behind them.

Oh, this was going to be fun, Tony schemed, rubbing his hands together in anticipation, but in the meantime, he had a date to keep with his own strawberry blond.

_______________________________________

 

Locked safely in their room, Natasha helped Clint over to the lavish bed before allowing herself to sag against the far wall.

Breathe, just breathe.

They were going to pay for that in the morning. She could already hear Tony rattling on about their sleeping arrangements. One glance over at her now shirtless partner, she found that she really didn’t care. Besides, it would be fun to see Tony’s face when Clint cut him down to size with his famous biting wit; they were well matched.

Clint, for his part, was just glad to be himself again, screw Stark and his jokes; he was alive, approaching sanity, and with the only person in the world that mattered to him. Looking at his partner, he could see the faraway look in her eyes as she stared at the patchwork bruising marring his chest and shoulders. This was a look he recognized all too well.

“Hey, come back to me, Tasha.” He called softly, not wanting to startle her as he limped his way to her position. She was prone to striking out with deadly force when startled; she was very much like a skittish colt in that respect. Thankfully, the sound of his voice was enough to break her out of her thoughts.

Red rimmed eyes turned to him. “You shouldn’t be up.” She led him back to the bed, pushed him down with gentle pressure, before knelt to remove his heavy boots. All the while, Clint watched her, growing more concerned by the minute.

“What was that back in the restaurant?” He probed when she continued to avoid his eyes.

“It was nothing.”

She stood from her kneeling position, needing the distance standing provided to gather her thoughts, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“I didn’t buy that line when I questioned you about Loki and I don’t buy it now. I know you, something rattled you back there. What was it?” Catching her shaking hands, he pulled her down in front of him again and turned her face up to met him.

“I realized how close I came to losing you.” Natasha hated the way her voice shook and the tremble in her abdomen, even as the words forced themselves out against her will. She couldn’t keep it in anymore, not with him so close and so very alive. Not when she had almost been the one to end it.

“Not going to happen.”

Twisting out of his hold, she turned her back on him. “How can you say that?”

She needed to run. Escape before she unraveled at the seams. “Look at what we do, Clint. Sooner or later, this will come to an end. Everything ends!” There were no tears in her voice, just bitter resignation to a long-held truth.

She'd been forged in a world where lies were whispered like prayers and the truth was guarded with the steel of a thousand swords. An early acquaintance with the laws of uncertainty left her numb until he came into her life, slowly injecting trust back into her withered veins, but old lessons were hard to forget.

“All right, no promises. I know that nothing lasts forever as well as you do, but this,” he motioned between the two of them. “This is worth fighting for.”

He could see her eyes softening; feel the pull that led him to spare her so long ago, that same pull that kicked his heart into overdrive every time he touched her skin. “After everything we’ve been through. Your history, my history, mind control, a psychotic demi-god, and an entire army of alien super soldiers couldn’t stop us. You can’t tell me that doesn’t mean something.”

Green eyes locked on his, searching, then like so many times before, she shut down before a decision could be made.

“It means that you’re a sap, Barton,” She joked, shoving him lightly. Pain creased his brow when her hand contacted a particularly tender bruise. Seeing this, Natasha was up and across the room, retrieving the pain pills she had absconded with in an instant.

He mentally cursed his injures for the millionth time that night. Knowing the moment had passed, he allowed her to help him step out of the remains of his tattered uniform and lay back on the bed. A shower would have to wait until tomorrow.

Clint fell back on the sheets with a contented moan, Tony’s set up sure beat his bunk back on the Hellicarrier.

“I could sleep for a year.”

“I’m too wired to sleep.” She paced the length of the room before settling against the wall of windows overlooking the city.

Looking down at the glittering lights, she could almost believe that the last few hours had been a dream, but her mind sputtered to life, offering her images of Clint’s battered unconscious form being dragged away, amongst other gruesome highlights from today. Not a dream, more like a waking nightmare.

“Well, that’s too bad," he called from the bed, drawing her ever-wondering mind back to him once more. “Because this has been a very long 48 hours, and before that, I spent 3 months living on a few hours of sleep because my favorite body pillow was off freezing her ass off in Russia.”

“I was not freezing my ass off, it was summer.” A ghost of a pouty smile pulled at her lips; his heart lightened knowing she could still get her to smile even after trying to kill her. He shivered at the thought before pushing them back and locking the cage behind them, if only for tonight.

“Semantics, now get over here.”

Natasha turned to him with a glare firmly set in place. He simply returned her glare with a self-satisfied smirk and a crooked finger in her direction. This was a familiar game for them.

Eyes locked in a silent battle of wills; it was Natasha who backed down first. Years of experience taught her what was worth fighting for and when to just give in.

Stripping down to her camisole and underwear, she padded over to the bed; they had long ago given up on modesty around one another. He’d seen her in far less, and she had fished a bullet out of his ass, so really, what was a little skin between partners?

Sinking into the mattress, he wrapped his arms around her comfortably.

Natasha felt weightless in his arms, the unbearable burden of a lifetime of sins melted to the background in the cocoon of his embrace. If asked why she returned time and time to his side, this would be her answer.

There was a deeper truth lurking below the choppy waters of her mind, hidden in places she dares not examine too closely. There is risk in his eyes, the muted silver depths whispering of dreams beaten out of her long ago.

Still, she dreamed in silver sometimes. When near constant fatigue claimed her against her will, she was offered a few precious hours of restful sleep. In those hours, she dreamed of far-off places, still nights spent wrapped in bands of comforting steel, a home she called her own, and green eyes flecked with silver staring up at her with such wonder and innocence. A pure love that had no place in her waking existence.

These were the nights she woke with the sting of tears burning a trail down her cheeks, marring porcelain skin with their invisible brand that tainted her reflection. Gasping for breath, she would be left to grieve for a life that would never be hers.

She always believed it was better this way, to live between the lines. Only after the last 48 hours, she was beginning to reevaluate her previous position on what could and couldn’t be.

Possibilities ran wild circles through her head as the adrenaline coursed through her blood, leaving her feeling restless.

“I’m never going to fall asleep.”

Her legs stretched and kicked at the sheets, agitating his injured knee, causing Clint to hiss in pain. “Then I’ll just have to make you. Now shut up and listen.”

“The itsy, bitsy spider…”

“Clint!” She grabbed for one of the many pillows littering the bed and whooped him for emphasis, both laughing merrily. A welcome sound after the day’s events.

“What, not appropriate? Alright, close your eyes, Nat.” The smile in his voice lightened her heart, offering her hope that he might come out of this nightmare alright.

Softly, he began to sing. The pitch of his rich voice and the feel of it vibrating through his chest lulled her mind into relaxation. After a few minutes, he could feel her breathing even out and her heartbeat calm.

“Feeling better?” He breathed into her hair.

“Hum, much better.” They lay in silence for what could have been hours or only a few minutes, just long enough for Clint to start to doze off.

“Clint?” Natasha called into the darkness. A muffled affirmative resonated through his chest.

“Do you ever think about what it would be like to leave it all behind?” She didn’t need to elaborate; he knew what she was thinking. He usually did.

Flickering his eyes open, he looked at the play of lights on the ceiling.

“Sometimes.”

“Tell me.”

So, he did.

Natasha listened as he weaved beautiful dreams of a life away from SHEILD, away from their pasts and all the hell that came with. A life where they could build something real and something entirely of their own making. A single tear slipped past her defenses. Instinct demanded she wipe it away with force, but she let it fall, marking her skin in an invisible tattoo to commemorate this moment.

He trailed off after a time as sleep claimed him. She didn’t mind. Clint gave her what she needed to ease her mind; now it was her turn to offer the same to him.

Soon, the demons would come to play, each demanding their pound of flesh from her sleeping partner. There was nothing she could do to change that; she could only be there to ease his mind, hold him while he made sense of the chaos Loki left behind.

Everything was about to change, in the meantime, she would stay where she was, curled in his arms, resting in the in between.

The end

Notes:

Comments and Kudos are my life blood!

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