Chapter Text
“Nat! Brace yourself!”
Clint’s warning came a half breath before the jet was rocked by an incoming weapon blast. She clung to the co-pilot’s seat, trying to get back into a position to help, while Clint’s hands flew across the console. “Shit! We’re not flying out of here. If I don’t land now…” he trailed off, watching his instruments. “Land, hell. I’ll be lucky to crash,” he continued, still talking to himself.
Natasha maneuvered back into the seat, snugging the safety straps around her. “We going down?” she asked calmly.
Clint’s eyes flicked to her briefly. “Yeah. Hold on.” With the last reluctant power in its engines, the jet darted toward a thick patch of jungle. “Gonna try and land in a soft spot…” Clint murmured.
The impact knocked Clint out of his seat and safety restraints, tossing him about the cabin. Natasha clung to her seat, waited for the craft’s movements to stop, and unbuckled herself, moving towards Clint. “You hurt?” He was crumpled against one wall of the cabin, legs splayed and head lolling.
Clint’s response was a low moan. “Yeah,” he said, and bit his lip. “Yeah, Tash. I can’t feel my legs.”
Natasha’s hands, already moving to adjust his position, froze. “Not at all?” she asked.
“Nope. Back hurts. Think I cracked it against the bulkhead. Nat, you need to get out of here,” he told her firmly. “Take the intel back to SHIELD. You’ll have to get out on foot, and you can’t use the comms, you’ll be intercepted. Coulson needs that data. There are agents’ lives at risk.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Natasha told him shortly. “I don’t care about other agents.” I care about you, she added to herself, although she was not going to say that aloud. It was bad enough she’d allowed herself to think it – saying it would give it legitimacy.
“You’ve got to,” Clint pleaded. His hands still worked, he was relieved to note, and he reached out to stroke her hair back from her face. It was an intimate gesture, one he’d never indulged in before. “I’m not walking out of here, Tasha. You’re good, but you can’t carry me out of the Amazon. You’ve got to take that intel and get the hell out of here, before the cartel comes to investigate the crash. I need to know you’ve gotten out, Tash.”
“I’m not leaving you,” she repeated. Her throat was tight and she didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. He was right, the intel was important – lives did hang in the balance, and she knew a delay could put more at risk. But she couldn’t force herself to leave. He didn’t stand a chance, if she left. The cartel would find him and kill him – if he didn’t die from his injuries before being found.
“Yes, you are,” he argued, and there was a flicker of humor in his eyes that nearly undid her. “I know you’d rather argue about it, but you know I’m right. This time. I need you to do this for me, Tash. This isn’t really the time or place to say it, but I gotta. I love you, Nat, and have for a long time. I know you don’t like the word and you don’t like emotions but it’s the truth.” He focused on her, forcing her to maintain eye contact through sheer willpower. “I need my partner to get the woman I love out of here, and take her home to my family. Can you do that for me, Nat?”
Tears spilled onto her cheeks, and she wiped them away irritably. “I love you too, you idiot,” she told him. “That’s why I can’t leave.” She would have continued, but the tears wouldn’t stop, and she buried her head in her hands to hide them from him. “I can’t do this without you,” she whispered. She was afraid to touch him, afraid to make his pain greater or do further injury. She settled for touching her fingertips to his face, feather-light.
In the six months since she’d met the White Druid, Natasha had never envied Catriona’s powers. Now, she’d have traded decades from her life to be able to heal Clint as Catriona had healed her. She had no idea if the druid would be able to help Clint – or if it was even acceptable to ask. She closed her eyes, pushing her mind down towards Gaia, not sure if she’d be able to make a connection through the metal of the jet. She had to try.
{Gaia?}
\\M’inion Nat, Catriona Alanna is already en route,// came the immediate reply. \\She will be there momentarily. And yes, m’inion, it is appropriate to ask. He is your achroi ghra, and for that alone would I grant him aid. As it stands, Catriona is also going to offer him to join my service. He is a strong warrior, and his heart is full.//
Natasha sank into the floor of the jet, almost sick with relief. “Help is coming,” she said to Clint, her hands shaking as she needlessly brushed hair off his forehead.
“From where?” Clint demanded. “Nat, you didn’t use your comm, did you? I told you they’d intercept—“
“I’m not stupid,” she informed him tartly. “I have… alternative methods.” She realized she’d never gotten around to explaining Catriona and Gaia, and wondered how much more complicated that was going to make the next half hour.
“Like what? Smoke signals? Nat, you haven’t done anything but sit there,” Clint argued. He gestured vaguely with one hand and winced as it pulled at an unseen injury.
“Ah, but she’s been speaking to our Mistress whilst she’s been sitting there, my dear archer,” Catriona said from the rear of the cabin. “And our Mistress has sent me, to aid in your healing. Your death would cause far too much grief for my achara, so I am here to prevent it.”
Clint glared at the newcomer. “How the hell did you get in here?” he demanded.
Natasha rose, stepped swiftly to Catriona, and wrapped her up in a hug that was both affectionate and desperate. “I think his back is broken,” Natasha whispered to the druid.
Catriona returned the embrace, running a soothing hand over Natasha’s hair. “All will be well, achara. I have healed worse. Did Great Mother also tell you I was to make him the offer?”
“Yes,” Natasha answered, releasing Catriona finally. Clint was staring at them. With the exception of his sister-in-law and her children, he’d never seen Natasha be physically affectionate.
“What the fuck is going on?” he demanded.
Catriona lifted an eyebrow at Natasha and sighed. “You haven’t told him.”
“It never seemed the right time,” Natasha answered, shrugging.
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here! Somebody tell me what is going on!”
With a comforting smile, Catriona moved towards him, her white robe making soft noises against the floor of the cabin. She knelt at his side and took his hand in her own. “As there is no bomb set to go off, and you are not in danger of exsanguination, I would like to explain before I begin your healing.” She flickered an amused glance at Natasha, who knelt on Clint’s opposite side. In a patient tone, Catriona introduced herself, explained her relationship to Gaia, and Natasha’s own acceptance of service to the Goddess.
Clint tried to keep the incredulity off his face, but Natasha saw through him. “I know it’s hard to believe,” she murmured. Unzipping a side seam of her catsuit, Natasha showed him the unmarred skin of her abdomen. “There were two gunshot wounds here, Clint. Perforated intestine. Who knows what other internal injuries. And I walked out of there.”
“Ruptured spleen, damaged liver, damaged kidney,” Catriona murmured. “Fractured pelvis. Cracked vertebrae.”
Natasha glared at her. “You didn’t tell me it was that bad.”
“There was no reason to,” Catriona answered easily. “And you didn’t ask.”
Clint snorted. “She probably just glared at you and expected you to tell her everything.”
Catriona laughed, and Clint blinked. Her speaking voice was pleasant, but her laugh was almost… musical. And the freedom with which she laughed… it reminded him of Laura.
“She reminds me of Laura also,” Natasha said with a half-smile. Clint wasn’t surprised that she’d followed his train of thought.
“There is one more thing…” Catriona began. “Something that did not come up with you, Natasha. I have spoken of the bond between you two. Gaia told me that She referred to Clint as your achroi ghra. I believe that, were Clint to accept Gaia’s offer, the bond between you would be transmuted to something more… powerful.”
“What bond?” Clint asked, at the same time Natasha demanded “What’s an achroi ghra?”
Catriona smiled softly. “Natasha knows this, but I will explain it for you. I, as a Druid, can see the connections between people. It is like seeing the weaving of threads between two souls. The deeper the connection, the more complex the weaving becomes. For many, it’s as simple as a few knots. For others, such as the two of you… it is a complex tapestry. Which leads me to define achroi ghra for you, Natasha. Though not a perfect translation, it essentially means your heart-love, your romantic love. That Gaia has remarked upon this union confirms my suspicions; you would bond to each other as well as to our Mistress.”
Natasha was still, hardly breathing. Clint reached over for her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. “Talk to me, Nat,” he asked quietly.
“Would it be like it is with Gaia? The mind reading? Telepathy?” Natasha asked Catriona.
“It is similar, I am told,” Catriona confirmed. “I have not experienced it myself so can give you no first-hand knowledge, but it is much written about in Druidic texts. You would experience some thought sharing, emotion sharing – both of these would be hampered somewhat by distance. You would know when each other are in mortal danger and… should one of you die, the other would know. It would not kill the surviving partner,” Catriona hastened to add when Clint paled. “It is just that you would be certain whether they still lived – which can be useful, when you are in dangerous situations. Some couples also experience a kind of compass effect, allowing them to locate their bondmate. That is less common, but it could happen.”
“There’s very few people on the planet that I’d be willing to do this with,” Natasha said, looking at Clint. “You’re one of them.”
“Phil the other?” Clint asked.
“Yes,” Natasha replied.
“Good. Me too,” Clint told her with an impish grin.
Natasha chuckled, but it faded quickly. “Are you willing to do this? With me?” she asked, looking down at their joined hands. “There’s a lot of… bad memories, bad thoughts in my head. I’d understand if you don’t want to share them. It's a high price to pay.”
“I’ll do it,” Clint told Catriona. “I’ll serve Gaia.” His voice was firm, and Natasha squeezed his hand tightly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nat. I’ve got just as many shadows as you do. Your past won’t scare me away. Being able to talk to you in a way that can’t be intercepted or overheard? Being able to actually know what you’re feeling, instead of guessing? That’s not a price, that’s a fucking gift.”
If Natasha hadn’t already admitted that she loved the cocky bastard, his fierce declaration would have forced her hand.
“So, what now, druid-lady?” Clint asked, his humor in fine fettle despite the pain in his body.
“Just rest,” Catriona told him, and touched her fingers to his forehead. They trailed down his body, never putting pressure but always touching. She paused in places, and Clint swore he felt heat pouring out through her fingertips. When she reached his toes, she gave one a hearty squeeze and he yanked it away from her.
“What was that for?” he demanded. Catriona smiled, and gestured at his bent leg.
“Reflex test,” the druid answered impishly. “Be glad I pinched and did not tickle.”
“That’s – how – but –“ and for one of the very few times in their acquaintance, Natasha was treated to a speechless Clint.
She rose from his side, stepped over him, and embraced Catriona again. She clung, though she hoped that Clint was too distracted to notice that. Catriona soothed her gently, murmuring nonsensical phrases in both English and Gaelic. “Your achroi ghra is healed, he has joined us in Her service, and you have spoken of your feelings. All is well, achara.”
“Thank you,” Natasha whispered, her face still hidden in the mass of Catriona’s curls.
Clint, who seemed to have regained his composure, stared at the two women. {Nat? You’re hugging the strange Irish lady. I didn’t even know you knew how to hug adults. Are you crying?} He leapt to his feet, striding towards them and wrapping his arms around Natasha protectively.
Natasha laughed weakly, shifting her arms to Clint, her head dropping onto his shoulder. {Catriona is my friend,} she told him. There was a wash of emotions that accompanied her statement and Clint couldn’t untangle them all, but he caught her sense of surprise at Catriona’s unflinching acceptance.
“I know that the two of you have much to speak of – or rather, not speak of – but I must introduce Clint to our Mistress before I can leave you,” Catriona interrupted regretfully.
“How are you planning to get out?” Clint asked, shifting his arms around Natasha until it looked more like a casual embrace than the desperate grasp he wanted.
“The same way I came in,” Catriona answered with another mischievous smile. “Unfortunately, it isn’t a path you can follow.”
“Any chance you could stick with us, until we get out of hostile territory?” Clint asked.
Catriona’s headshake was almost violent. “No.” Her verbal answer was as firm as her body language. “I am no warrior. None of the Gifts the Goddess grants me give me physical protection from or a means to do violence.”
“Breathe, achara,” Natasha told her. The Gaelic endearment slid off her tongue easily, as though she’d used it a thousand times. She was fairly certain it was the first time she’d said it aloud, but it felt as right in her mouth as ‘M’inion Nat’ felt in her mind.
“I am sorry,” Catriona apologized. She averted her eyes, staring in the direction of the floor. “Once, many centuries ago, Gaia’s Druids waged battle beside Her Warriors. It… did not end well.” Catriona shook her head slowly, old grief returning. “It is one of the reasons there are so few Druids left, and I the only female still bound to Her.”
“No shame in being a non-combatant,” Clint reassured her blithely. He clapped her on the shoulder in a comradely fashion and smiled. “For every field agent at SHIELD, there’s at least three more who never leave their offices. We need them as much as they need us.”
“Thank you,” Catriona said, letting her eyes meet his and smiling softly. “I would not have you think me a coward. I… would like to be friends.”
“I’m pretty sure the woman who made it possible for me to walk again qualifies as a friend,” Clint told her.
“Let me introduce you to Gaia, so that you can go about your business,” Catriona said, smiling at the two warriors. “Come.” She gestured to the rear hatch. “We must touch the ground to do this.”
It took some brute force, but Natasha and Clint finally forced the hatch open and stepped out into the muggy jungle. Natasha immediately toed off her boots and sank her toes into the damp earth, giving a sigh of contentment as she felt Gaia’s presence.
Clint, after some prodding from Catriona, removed his own footwear and moved to stand next to Natasha. His hand crept to hers but she didn’t move away, merely squeezing it and giving him a smile.
“Now what?” Clint asked.
\\I supposed it should not surprise me, that your first words to me are the same as your bondmate’s,// Gaia responded with good humor. \\Greetings, my archer. Welcome to my service.//
{Thank you, Great Mother, for sending Catriona to us,} Natasha said humbly. Clint was not sure which surprised him more: that he could hear her despite her words being directed at the Goddess, or that she could sound humble. {Thank you for his life. And mine.}
\\You are welcome, m’inion. It is my pleasure to provide aid to my Warriors, and those they love. I am glad for the chance to bring the archer into my service.//
Clint’s mind was bursting with questions, but he couldn’t seem to hold on to any one thought long enough to ask it. Beside him, he felt Natasha’s steady presence, the precise order of her thoughts, and he forced himself to take a deep breath. {This is a bit overwhelming,} he admitted to both Natasha and the Goddess.
{It gets easier,} Natasha promised him. {I’ve been speaking to Great Mother daily for six months. I only occasionally feel like I have to grovel on my knees to be worthy of it, these days.}
Clint’s snort was automatic, but it did serve to relax some of the tension he was feeling. “Thanks, Nat,” he said aloud, and squeezed her hand.
\\For today, I should like to have you choose a name by which I may refer to you. You may discuss this with your achroi ghra, if you like.//
{Like that name you call her? What is it? Minion Nat?}
{M’inion Nat,} Natasha corrected.
\\It means ‘my daughter,’// Gaia explained. \\I call my druid Catriona Alanna, which is her name and the word for child.//
Clint didn’t really want to be called child, or son. His memories of his childhood weren’t pleasant. He particularly didn’t want to be called anything that might have come out of Barney’s mouth.
\\Your codename? Hawkeye?//
That was better, but it still didn’t feel right. He liked being Hawkeye, liked being Agent Barton, but it wasn’t his whole being.
{I told her I liked being Auntie Nat,} Natasha told him. {That’s part of how we wound up at my name. Do you want to be called Uncle Clint?}
{I liked it when you called me your archer. What is archer in Gaelic?}
\\That would be boghdoir,// Gaia answered. It sounded like ‘bough-deer’ to Clint, but he liked that it also sounded similar to Barton.
{Boghdoir Barton?} Clint suggested hopefully.
{I like it,} Natasha said, smiling at him.
\\As do I, my archer. Boghdoir Barton it shall be. Now, I shall leave you to commune with your bondmate. You would do well to join her in her daily talks with me, and to begin a similar strength regimen. Should you have need of me, you need only ask.// There was a pause while the Goddess seemed to debate her words before continuing. \\It has been many centuries since I have had a bonded pair both sworn to me as Warriors. It is a precious gift. It pleases me to know that neither of you are fighting alone, now.//
{Thank you, Great Mother,} Natasha said, her hand squeezing Clint’s.
{Thanks, Big Mama,} Clint echoed, and then froze in place waiting to see if he’d offended their Goddess.
Gaia’s reply was amused. \\You are an imp, Boghdoir, but at least you are a good-hearted one. Fare thee well, my Warriors.//
The sense of Her presence faded, and left Clint and Natasha feeling somewhat foolish, holding hands while sunk ankle deep in the jungle floor.
Natasha pulled her feet out of the mud and grabbed a handful of leaves to clean them off. “So. That’s Gaia,” she told Clint.
“And what name was chosen?” Catriona asked, stepping forward to help Natasha back into the jet.
“Boghdoir Barton,” Clint told her. “It means—”
Catriona smiled, a little sadly. “I know what it means, achara. Gaelic was my first language.”
“Ah. Sorry,” he apologized, giving her a sideways smile. “Get the feeling I stepped in more than mud, there.”
“It was a long time ago,” Catriona told him. She offered him a hand as well, and assisted them in closing the hatch once more. “While you were speaking with Great Mother, I thought of a way which I can help you, that will not require violence on my part.”
“I’m all for that,” Clint said with a grin. As was their usual habit, Natasha had fallen silent, content to let Clint charm the people around them.
“If you prepare a message that I can carry, I can deliver it and the information you obtained to your handler. I can find him easily enough, and you will be able to convince him through your message that I am not a threat. That will give you time to bond more properly and to leave this area safely, rather than in haste.” She smiled broadly. “I truly would like the chance to meet this Coulson of yours, and Great Mother has no objections to my playing messenger.”
{Coulson will eat her alive,} Natasha thought in Clint’s direction.
{Nah. He’s got a thing for redheads. She’ll be fine.} He winked at Natasha. “We’ll write something up.” Clint started rifling through supplies, doing an absurd victory dance when he located paper and pen. “Alright now…” he dropped into the pilot’s chair, propped the notebook up on his knee, and tried to write. After a moment or two, he threw up his hands helplessly. “Nat, you got any idea how to explain this?”
Natasha shook her head, a rueful half-smile on her face. “If I did, you’d have heard about it six months ago,” she told him.
~ * ~