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The battle was won, though the war had only just begun. They all stood witness as the two Asguardian’s teleported back to their world. The eerie blue glow of the Tesseract burned her retinas but she refused to look away. If only for the peace of mind of knowing Loki was off-world,. One Aaguardian would return to the spoils of victory and the other to damnation. Or at least that’s what SHIELD’s finest were wagering on.
One by one, they nodded their goodbyes before scattering to the wind to lick their respective wounds until the siren call of a world in peril brought them together once more. They were moths to the flame, helpless against the sweet, addictive sting of adrenaline. Soon they would be back, but until then they would enjoy the reprieve.
Tony graciously loaned Natasha and Clint a sleek SUV with enough high-tech toys to have Clint giggling like a schoolgirl in glee. Natasha wasn’t as easily impressed. Knowing Stark, his gift was bugged. He’d been not so subtly hinting that he thought they were ‘screwing like rabbits’ in their downtime. No doubt the purvey bastard was hoping for some free porn with her naked ass front and center. At least she assumed it was her ass Stark was vying for; with his propensity toward eccentricity, it could be Clint’s ass he was hoping to get a peek at. Not that any recon she had on Stark suggested that he swung from the other side of the tree, but nothing would surprise her at this point.
My, my, what would Pepper think, Natasha thought with a snort.
Despite her suspicions she had no intentions of sharing this with her partner. After the stress of the past 72 hours, he was liable to put an arrow through the iron billionaire's smirking skull. Natasha wouldn’t shed a tear over the loss, but she wasn’t about to add another stain to Clint’s already hemorrhaging ledger.
During the heat of battle, the haunted gleam in his eyes dimmed, but she could see the telltale signs of guilt seeping back into the hard set of his shoulders and the defiant set of his jaw.
He was drowning.
There were very few things in life Natasha was certain of right now, but one thing she knew with complete certainty was that she would do anything within her power to alleviate his pain.
“Where to, Tasha?”
Including removing herself from the equation, he would be better off without her complicating everything. If only her traitorous heart didn’t skip a beat every time he said her name in his husky drawl.
“To the airport.” Short, simple, to the point. No emotion, as it should be.
A quizzical brow shot up behind the dark rim of those ridiculous sunglasses. Even with his eyes shaded, the simple gesture spoke volumes. He knew she was hiding something. Damn him for knowing her so well. Damn her for allowing him to know her so well. Logically, she knew such intimacy was inevitable, if not necessary, when you relied on someone to watch your back. Unbidden, the cold voice of the Widow whispered to her of weakness. A weakness she spent a lifetime trying to outrun.
She had been strong and independent once. Drowning in the blood of her sins, hopelessly lost, but at least it was of her own making. A gun for hire, she had been about to complete her latest assignment with her usual cool efficiency when he came. Looking every bit the avenging angel sent to escort her to the flaming gates of hell.
Natasha looked upon him with begrudging respect, and as she closed her eyes, she was glad it was he who would end her miserable life. Anyone who could hunt her down and sneak up on her without her knowledge was worthy of ending her. But fate had other ideas for her. As the seconds ticked by, the cold sting of an arrow through her black heart didn’t come. Opening wide emerald eyes, she dared to look at the face of her demise. Had she been any other woman, she would have been caught breathless by his chiseled good looks, but instead, she looked beyond the surface and into his soul. It was then that her life changed forever. In his steel blue eyes, she saw her own tattered soul reflected at her with the fire of a thousand suns.
He offered her more than a job that day; he offered her a chance at redemption. Not a day had gone by since then that Natasha hadn’t been thankful for his presence in her life. She told Loki that she owed him a debt, but it was more than that; she owed him her life and, by extension, what was left of her soul.
What began as mutual respect slowly evolved from a tentative friendship to a partnership and finally into companionship. So intertwined were they that it was sometimes impossible to distinguish where one began and the other ended. They functioned independently of each other but were at their best together. A fact that SHIELD had recognized and taken advantage of by partnering them together whenever possible.
Clint represented safety, peace, and the closest thing to home she had ever known.
It was because of this truth that she was running, but she would never admit that to herself or anyone else. Some truths are best left locked in their prisons for all eternity.
They arrived at the airport in record time due to Clint’s kamikaze driving. Stark had given her a pointed look when Clint took the keys; he no doubt assumed she would be driving. Something about her control issues, he’d once mentioned. Natasha let Clint drive, quite frankly, because he needed to drive. He was still wired, too many leftover endorphins still running rampant through his head after Loki’s mind fuck.
He pulled up to the gate, giving her a pointed look, which she promptly ignored. There were no long-winded goodbyes or tears, just a short, to-the-point farewell.
Then she slammed the door on his smirking ass.
He was beyond infuriating sometimes. Couldn’t he see she was doing this for his own good? She continued to lie to herself on her way through security, mentally berating him for the duration of the flight - she really should have sprung for first class - it was only once she’d finished unpacking her few belongings (aka her guns) in the sterile hotel room that a single tear escaped.
She was a fool.
The horrors of the last few days spun blazing trails around her head like a sick cycle carousel. Hulking monsters, gods, and magic, all things they had never been trained for. Enough ammunition for a lifetime of hellish nightmares, as if she didn’t already have enough for two lifetimes with her sorted past.
The list was long and colorful, but it was the vision of crystalline blue, a webbing of manipulation obscuring his steel grey eyes that woke her from a dead sleep with a scream poised on her lips. The urge to claw the image from her mind before the lies replaced the truth in her memory was almost unbearable.
She was compromised. Clint “Hawkeye” Barton had compromised her. From the moment he dropped into her life, she was his. It was a truth that dogged her heels for months now, only she could no longer deny it.
Natasha hadn’t seen it then, but Loki offered her a bitter pill she unknowingly swallowed the day she joined her fate to his by joining SHEILD. Clint, her trusted partner, confidant, and friend, compromised her that long-ago day. Every moment spent together was another nail in her coffin. He had methodically woven himself into her soul, each stitch strengthening his hold over her until she no longer knew what was Natasha and what was Clint’s influence.
She could have killed him on the Hellicarrier, had she not managed to knock his thick skull out. But that knowledge came with a mind-numbing realization. She would have completed the mission, like a good little SHEILD agent, but once the dust settled…Natasha Romanoff would have been no more.
That was her real reason for leaving him: to breathe again. Breathe without his scent choking her, but she didn’t factor in one thing.
He was her air now.
The longer she stayed away, the more acute the suffocation became, until there was no choice but to track him down.
Natasha lasted exactly 3 days, 14 hours, 29 minutes, and 12 seconds from the time he dropped her off at the airport before she reached his little slice of heaven buried deep in the hills of Wyoming.
The cabin made for a picturesque setting, backlit with snow-capped mountains and surrounded by miles of unspoiled wilderness. Every square inch of its rugged glory spoke of a labor of love. The delicate arch of the windows and the hand-carved molding surrounding the door were all a testament to Clint’s masterful attention to detail.
For a second, she was almost jealous of the house.
She had been here once before, long ago, after one of their many missions gone wrong. Natasha was inches away from death and in need of a month’s worth of strict bed rest to recover. Clint dragged her to the then unfinished cabin, kicking and screaming the whole way. Gone so far as to drug her to keep her from re-injuring herself, but after two weeks of battle, Natasha stopped long enough to appreciate the beauty of Clint’s home away from home. She never told him, but her memories of their time here were some of her most cherished.
Pulling the dark SUV up the gravel path to the rear of the three-story cabin, Natasha got her first glimpse of its owner. Clint was sprawled out on a deck chair with two glasses and a bottle of her favorite Vodka set out beside him.
She choked back the lump in her throat and tried to breathe around the sudden tightness in her chest. Just the sight of him and the air felt heavier, more substantial as her lungs expanded and contracted with new ease. She fought back an inexplicable desire to abandon the vehicle, sprint the distance separating them, and collapse into his arms. Content to share his breaths until the tightness in her chest subsided to a more manageable ache.
But as she was not prone to bouts of pathetic emotional outbursts, she calmly parked the car before exiting with her usual air of indifference. She kept her movements languid in hopes of disguising the slight tremble in her limbs. A few more measured strides and she was leaning gracefully against the vine-covered porch banister.
Clint had yet to acknowledge her, but for the amused/self-satisfied tilt of his lips. Her teeth ground painfully, but she held her tongue, unwilling to break the silence. He knew she was coming, he knew long before the sensors picked up her vehicle three miles back, and the bastard was waiting for her.
Their eyes caught and held; a challenge was issued. She broke first, blinking and then refocusing her gaze over his left shoulder. Internally, she cursed, spat, and hissed every profanity in every language she knew. Damn him for the weakness he instilled in her, but on the outside, she remained calm.
At least he broke the silence first.
“What took you so long, Nat?”
Bastard! His voice was equal parts heaven and hell to her frayed nerves. A myriad of conflicting emotions waged war in her head. The teasing note to his words triggered her flight response, while his eyes reflected his concern. Run, her body told her.
She chose neither, settling for bold-faced lies instead.
“Thought you could use some company.” She offered to take the empty seat across from him. If he caught her lies, he didn’t call her on them; he just shrugged his shoulders and poured her a generous glass of Vodka.
They stayed like that until the sun fell behind the painted mountains, bathing the sky in a cascade of pastels. It could be the dream-like quality of the location or the half bottle of Vodka they downed between the two of them. Still, when he turned to her, his skin lit in warm amber, his eyes pleading with her, she found her tongue moving without her consent and words spilling forth before she could consider them.
“I’ve been compromised, but not for the reasons I gave before.” They were only words, but they felt like lead weights being dropped on her chest.
Clint only nodded. “What did Loki do to you?” The muscles in his jaw flexed as if he wanted to say more, but stopped himself.
Breathe in and out, over and over, her lungs expanded and contracted until she could continue. “He’s not the one.” She whispered, looking out into the distance.
“His words brought it to the forefront, but he’s not the one.”’
Clint was still at her words, waiting. Maybe he already knew what she was about to say.
“You watched the tape.” It wasn’t a question.
“I did.” There was a sliver of ice lacing his words that sent a shiver down her spine. She hesitated, and he rushed to save her as he always did.
“Nat…you know that I would never-“
“You would have.” She cut him off. He knew it was the truth and bowed his head in shame. It was her turn to save him.
“I don’t blame you, Clint. I would have killed you if I had to.”
“Good.” He seemed almost proud. Natasha felt sick.
With a shuddered breath, she prepared herself for the gauntlet. “I was stalked, thrown around like a living ragdoll by Banner’s evil twin. Coulson was dead, Loki was gone, and we failed. But none of that mattered. I sat there watching you breathe, prepared to put a bullet in your brain if I had to, and I knew…”
She blinked, and he was in front of her, kneeling at her feet, his hands as blood-stained as her own, cradling her trembling fingers between his palms. Natasha knew if she looked down at him now, she would be lost. Every instinct she possessed told her to clamp her mouth shut now, to deny everything and do whatever it takes to put a lid back on these feelings, but she couldn’t. This is why she came here isn’t it? She may not have known it at the time, but this thing between them. Years of repressed emotions had built up until they were like a poison, eating away at them from the inside out.
“I knew that if you died, I wouldn’t be far behind.” The words broke free with all the force of a gun blast, and then she was falling. Tipping, teetering over the edge, then falling headfirst into the abyss.
The world fell away until she was caught mid-fall, wrapped in bands of steel that pulled her back over the edge and onto solid ground.
An eternity passed, wrapped in each other’s arms. His larger bulk cradled her smaller frame. Protecting her but also drawing strength from her nearness, drinking it in, letting it seep into his veins, and soothing his own spirit.
Old demons demanded that she fight, scream, claw until she was free of her cage, but they were all drowned out by the blessed sound of her name pouring from his lips into the shell of her ear.
Over and over, every possible variation of her name passed his lips, calling her back to him, serving as an anchor to her bleeding soul.
When the storm subsided to a manageable roar, Clint broke the silence.
“I remember.” He whispered against her hair, and she didn’t need to look up from her place against his chest to know what he meant. Somehow she knew he was referring to his time under Loki’s control, and it sickened her that he would have to live with such memories.
“All the questions Loki asked me about SHIELD, about you, and I was helpless against the pull to answer him. I betrayed my country without a blink of an eye…”
“Clint…” She made to correct him, assure him that none of it was his fault, but he silenced her and continued without pause.
“There was one question, though, the last question he asked me before Stuttenguard. He asked me if I loved you.”
Natasha’s heart stopped, and her world narrowed to his next words. “And what did you tell me?’ She asked in a near whisper, her hand that was resting against his chest, clenched his shirt reflexively. Not a single tear was shed during her breakdown, but she could feel the sting of hot, acidic tears burning at her eyes.
“I said no.”
“Oh…” Words have power, and those three words were a bullet to the heart. Her eyes snapped shut, adrenaline surged through her system, and muscles tensed in preparation to run. Every fear that stilled her tongue over the years was realized in one horrific moment. She surged forward but had no momentum, still tangled in his arms, and fell backward.
Natasha struggled, but his arms only tightened around her.
“Natalia!”
She ceased her mad dash for freedom and looked up. Green met blue and held. He never called her Natalia.
“I lied.” Thump…thump. “I lied, Tasha. I don’t know how, but I lied to him.”
Her brain was on overload from too many ups and downs. This was the cruelest form of torture he could have inflicted upon her. Frantically, she searched his eyes for any sign of deceit but found only the bare truth reflected at her.
“Clint, I don’t…” She trailed off, her voice trembling too much to form the words on her tongue.
A ghost of a smile pulled at his lips, and his callused fingers reached up to wipe away the traitorous tears rolling down her cheeks. Unable to resist, she leaned into the car's desperation for more.
“Don’t you see, Nat? I was compromised long before Loki.”
Anything else that could or would have been said was lost to the press of lips, hands, and bodies colliding, settling, rewriting the world. What was left when the dust settled was as close to peace as Natasha had ever known.