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On Thursday, Clint kisses Natasha in the school parking lot. Tony wolf whistles at them from his flashy red sports car; Natasha flips him off affectionately. Clint brought her coffee and one of those cinnamon roll monstrosities from McDonald's that she likes, so he can kiss her wherever he damn well pleases.
They have to split for first period, but they have lunch together with a handful of other friends. Tony is all over Pepper, who is ignoring him to practice her sign language with Clint. She's getting pretty good, but Sam and Natasha still have her beat. They're gossiping about Tony, whose sign language is abysmal. Steve is visibly struggling not to laugh.
Natasha has plans with Pepper after school, so Clint kisses her goodbye after their shared History class.
On Friday, Clint doesn't come to school at all.
If he was sick, he would have sent Natasha about 12 whiny texts before the first bell. She doesn't bother texting him. He wouldn't reply.
They were supposed to watch movies at Sam's after school, but Natasha doesn't have to tell him she's not coming. There's a protocol for situations like this, and while Sam and Steve don't know all the steps, they know their part well enough. Let Natasha do her thing, she'll call if she needs them.
She skips her afternoon classes and picks up a bunch of snack food at the 7-11 down the street from Clint's house. She doesn't bother visiting the house itself, though, heading into the woods behind it. It's a ten minute walk to his treehouse. She climbs up without a word.
The treehouse itself is kind of a shitshow, as Tony would probably say if it wasn't a secret only Natasha knows about. There are wood planks nailed to the tree trunk in a few places to provide foot holds where there aren't any branches, but it isn't something you could climb without decent upper body strength. The floor is grimy but solid, while the walls are shoddy and broken from years of play-fights. The ceiling was abandoned halfway through the original attempt to create it, letting in plenty of afternoon sunlight.
Clint is laying on his back with his eyes open, watching the clouds. He's wearing the clothes he wore to school yesterday and there's a fresh, ugly bruise on his cheek.
Natasha knows he doesn't have his hearing aids on, but he can feel the vibration in the floor when she pulls herself up. She sets down her bag of snacks and sits down next to his head. For a long moment, he doesn't look at her, the treehouse silent except for the birds outside.
Then he rolls over, shuffling so he can put his head in her lap. Natasha doesn't smile, but she does comb her fingers through his unwashed hair. Clint sighs softly and closes his eyes at the sensation.
She doesn't ask what happened to his face. She already knows.
They stay like that for a while. Natasha listens to Clint's breathing, content to just be until his stomach growls. She pinches his shoulder to get him to turn his hearing aids on.
"When was the last time you ate?" She asks mildly, not an accusation the way it is when somebody asks the same of Tony or Bruce.
"Yesterday afternoon," Clint answers sheepishly without opening his eyes. He's taking cues from how Tony replies when Pepper asks him. Natasha isn't surprised by his answer, but is a little irritated at his tone. As if Clint in the treehouse is the same as Tony in the science lab.
"I brought snack cakes."
Clint's eyes pop open.
"Holy shit, 'tasha, you're awesome," He says, sitting up and kissing her before scrambling over to the bag of snacks. Clint breaks into the snack cakes first, but he pulls out the chips and soda too. He grins at her.
"One hell of a love confession here, Nat."
"Shut up, Barton," Natasha says. There's no bite to it.
He comes back to sit with her, opening his package of food as he goes.
"Want one?" He asks, holding out one of the snack cakes. Natasha takes it gingerly, trying not to get more crumbs than necessary on her clothes. It's wasted effort, really, because the treehouse's grime follows you no matter how hard you try to stay clean. She watches Clint eat with a careful eye, evaluating for jaw pain.
It looks like the bruise is the extent of the damage. She starts in on her own snack cake.
"Are you still going to Sam's tonight?" He asks, not quite looking at her. It isn't the question he wants to ask. Will you stay here with me?
"I don't like the movie they picked," She answers. I'm not going anywhere.