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|| CLOSED PRIVATE BLOG||

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When the World Goes Silent || onceupxnadecember

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Clint was fine to just sit at least until she moved. His head turned round slightly, seeking her out. It was frustrating that he couldn’t hear her. It actually made him grit his teeth and worry his fingers. His hands fidgeted uneasily. This was worse than being in prison. Worse than being tortured. Worse even than what he’d felt when she’d said it was a mistake.  At least then he’d been able to hear her say it. Recognize the affliction in her voice as she told him it meant nothing. Now he’d slowly begin to forget what things sounded like. Well… he probably wouldn’t so maybe he was being a little mellow dramatic. Still it threw him off quite a bit. The arched shifted a little, glancing towards the door.  Wondering if he could make a run for it, maybe he could get the hell out of here. Though to be honest it was probably safer in here than it was to be outside. He still didn’t like the thought of hospitals. It made him anxious.  “ I’m fine,” he stated, voice quiet to keep from screaming to try and hear himself. The sound was a bit off too. A little flatter than usual.  He was starting to tug at wires, pulling patches off here and sensors off there. 

[onceupxnadecember]

Who was she kidding. She hadn’t expected him to so much as acknowledge her presence, so when the low rumble of his voice broke the silence of his room, she could have been forgiven for jumping where she sat just a little. Those two words, such simple words, left her heart twisting in her chest and her tongue pushing against the back of her teeth as she fought back the urge to spit out some form of retort. Silently she watched on as he fidgeted, and as the patches and monitors were slowly peeled from his skin she was up on her feet before he could do himself more harm than good. Her hand came to rest over his, fingers curling around his own as she gently pulled his hand away and brought it to rest against his abdomen.  Sympathy wasn’t something Natasha often harboured. It was best left alone, in the far corners of her mind not to be poked at almost as if it didn’t exist. But when she found herself in Clints presence, things had a tendency to change oh so drastically.  As she resumed her perch on the edge of his bed, she lifted her right hand, the backs of her fingers gently brushed across his cheek and down his jaw as she shook her head, and eyes locked on his she spoke “ There’s no need to lie to try and fool me.... I know....and I’m sorry” she sighed as her hand dropped to rest fingers splayed against his chest. Now her fingers were the ones to pick anxiously at the wires that criss-crossed over his chest.

[bookishly-ever-after-blog]

[beadream3r]

She patches the scars on her heart with stitches made from his kiss

Lenna (via beadream3r)

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

When the World Goes Silent || onceupxnadecember

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

Sleep was always nice when you were run ragged. Between fighting the nurses and doctors off, and trying to get his mind to work properly through the haze of losing his hearing… he was exhausted. It was a relief to sleep. This … this however was a drugged sleep. They’d given him a sedative that didn’t make his heart try to shut down and now he was zoned out completely.  There were no dreams in this kind of sleep. There were no comforting faces, no memories… nothing. Clint didn’t like it. Clint hated this. When the haze started to ware off… he came around slowly. The archers head was still fuzzy with the drugs. He opened his eyes to compensate for the silence that met him in the waking world. He stared at the TV set in front of him, his lips pressed into a hard line as he just… stared.  It took him a little bit before he realized that he was not alone in the bed. He felt her pulse through his fingers. Clint’s eyes turned towards her and he frowned a little bit. The Russian was curled up close, sleeping soundly. Clint didn’t know how to take it. He could be happy she was there… happy she was curled in close to him, but at the same time… he felt like she was doing it out of pity, he just looked back towards the TV, silent as the grave. 

[onceupxnadecember]

A deep sleep was a luxury that had far escaped her for numerous years, though that wasn’t necessarily true. Natasha could very well remember the last time she had slept a deep dreamless sleep. Only weeks ago wrapped up in the arms of the archer she now found herself fighting to hold onto.  As he shifted in bed, she was pulled from her light slumber with a start. A deep breath drawn in was automatically contaminated by the unpleasant sting from the moment she woke up. At first her surroundings remained a mystery to her. That was until she sat up and looked over to Clint. Just as easily as her own little world, her own bubble, seemed to be a better place. It all came crashing back down once more. Everything she held near and dear to her was seemingly broken and scattered at her feet.  To some it could have seemed to be an over reaction. To her, if she didn’t have the one constant by her side, she wasn’t entirely sure of the person she would become.  All such thoughts rushed through her mind within a matter of seconds, and as soon as they had, she pulled back, perched on the very edge of the bed she sat and watched him. More than anything she wanted to reach out and touch him. To throw herself into his arms and bury her face in his chest. But such a privilege had been lost to her. Whos fault was it? Her own. Not his, nor anybody elses for that matter. Slipping back down into her seat at his bedside, she brought her elbows to rest on her thighs sat in silence and waited for him to acknowledge her. 

[txmblraf]

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

When the World Goes Silent || onceupxnadecember

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

An agent had come and retrieved him. It wasn’t like he thought it would be. Natasha was always the one who came and got him when he was put in a hospital somewhere. ALWAYS. Still. Not this time. He figured that he deserved that and it only proved to make him worse really. They transported him int he middle of the night, carefully drugging him with special sedatives to avoid killing him thanks to his allergy.  He’d arrived out cold. Waking later that day he was told he still couldn’t leave bed, shown rather. They wrote it on a white board. Clint hadn’t spoken since his outbreak in the other hospital. He went through the motions, eat, drink, sleep. When he was awake he picked at the skin around his finger nails, or fussed his calloused fingers together, or rolled one of the many wires and tubes connected to him.  Natasha didn’t show. And by the third day of being in the states again he stopped hoping she would. He was healing, at least that’s what they told him, his wounds were improving they were monitoring his insides just in case, the bleeding came back by some odd chance. He complied with everything they asked him and that seemed to worry the doctors that knew him so well.  His will was all but gone, he didn’t even have the want to go to the range to blow off steam.  He became sleepless and the doctors resorted to giving him medication to help him sleep the last few nights. So he slept heavily.  “ He’s deteriorating… despite his body getting better, “ One of the other agents told her quietly as she leaned in the doorway.  “ It’s … not like him.” Her lips pursed slightly and she looked at the man in the bed with something close to pity in her eyes.  “ He wont let us take the molds we need to cast the hearing aids either,” She mumbled softly.  The young agent sighed softly and shook her head, putting the blankets down on a chair, “ They told me to bring these in… in case you wanted to stay.” Then she was gone again. 

[onceupxnadecember]

It was the furthest thing from a surprise Natasha had come to expect. If anything it practically screamed Clint. She knew all too well of his stubborn streak, and this was no exception. She could perhaps have been forgiven for smiling at the thought of him fighting any hint of help that came his way. For this was something he couldn’t solve himself, something that would frustrate him beyond all belief. There was still a shadow of the man she knew in there. A  shadow of the man that meant more to her than admittedly numerous others had, and that’s what hurt her more than anything.   This is all your fault. Walk away before you do more damage. The thought was there in the back of her mind, a cursory glance spared to the blankets that had been set aside. Begrudgingly she moved to pluck one up. Shoes slipped off, she wrapped herself in the blanket and carefully perched on the edge of his bed. Her fingers drifted down his arm. Over the back of his hand.  “ Trust you to fight the help” she whispered as her fingers curled gently around his. He was asleep, what would he know? Lying down, she brought her head to rest against his shoulder, face pressed into the crook of his neck.  Drawing in a deep breath, she let her eyes slip shut as her senses were completely overwhelmed by him. Through the almost nauseating stench of antiseptic, and the dirt that encrusted his skin. He was there. Clint..... her Clint, and for the first time in weeks, Natasha fell asleep, curled into his side like an ever faithful lapdog. 

You could tell me you hate me and I still wouldn’t have the heart to leave

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

When the World Goes Silent || onceupxnadecember

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

He had wandered into neutral territory. Switzerland. A place he and Natasha had often ducked off to after missions in Europe. A safe zone. They didn’t do kill missions in Switzerland, so it was their safe haven. The archer had litterally walked the soles off his boot. Walking clear from Northern Germany left him achy and tired, and very much out of it. He was gaunt and scraggling a beard already full across his drawn face. Chapped, cracked lips moved across words slowly, dilent but his lips moved as he spoke to himself. He looked more like he should be tossed into a mental hospital when someone frinally noticed him and made the call to get the bloody, dirty man help, though admittantly most of the blood had turned rusty brow by now and was flaking or had already flaked off completely.

He was so out of it that he didn’t really notice at all that the person who was keeping him from completely falling flat on his ass was speaking but he couldn’t hear him. When they had gotten him in the ambulance and rushed him off he’d blacked out then and there. He didn’t remember them cutting into him to fix the internal damage or that they had to drain some of the worse wounds. He was too far gone to care much about what they did to him. When he did come around… it was the ringing silence that bothered him most. He lost it. Clint panicked, throwing himself out of the bed and trying to get out. They had been quick to put him under… and after some scares with cardiac arrest from his reaction to the meds they got him to come around under a controlled situation. Wrists and ankles bound to the bed.

The doctor wrote on a pad of paper as Clint practically screamed at him. ’ You are experiencing 80% hearing loss.’ “ WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT FIX THIS BULL SHIT!” He stated firmly, voice about four octives too loud and sounding a little off key too. ’ There was substantial damage to your eardrums. There is nothing we can do to fix it… ’ “ BULLSHIT!” ’ I am sorry. We can have a pair of hearing aids made.’ “ FUCK YOUR HEARING AIDS! GET ME OUT OF THIS DAMN BED.” ’ We have contacted someone from your contact list.’ Ah … right he’d grabbed his phone when he rushed out of the room after the explosion. It had ended up on the floor not far from him.

Clint just numbed himself up a little and relaxed against the bed. He was left in his newly silent world. Everything made him jump or lash out, and he was left so anxious they only way they could get him to sleep was to sedate him. Eventually… he lost track of time.

[onceupxnadecember]

Word of the archers return had travelled far and wide. Yet not once did Natasha dare go and see him. Instead she would pace back and forth along the hallways of the medical wing, arms folded tightly across her chest, a stray glance in the direction of Clints room here and there, but the closer she drew to the door, the more her own subconscious didn’t allow her to simply push the door open to walk in and see him.

What could she possibly say. I’m sorry? It was my fault. All possible answers that flew through her mind, all things she could possibly say seemed futile. For she held no doubt he wouldn’t so much as offer her a reply.  A week and a half had passed, and there she stood, peering through the distorted glass into the medical bay. It was a young blonde nurse who approached her on this particular day. Clipboard in hand, she greeted the agent with a warm smile.  “ His wounds are healing well” she nodded, flicking through the forms that were laid out before her “ And his hearing?” Natasha asked, her gaze still fixed through the window. A sombre tone took over the atmosphere, the nurse shaking her head “ No improvement” she frowned. “ He’s sleeping now if you wanted to go in and see him.” It had been the first offer to go in and see him Natasha had received, most clearly expecting her to barge past and take matters into her own hands, but turth be told, she was nowhere near quite as ballsy as she once been, but yet the offer resonated deep within her.

Once she was assured a majority of doctors and nurses had moved into the room, Natasha drew in a deep breath and pushed the swing door open. The smell of antiseptic immediately filled and burnt at her nostrils, a grimace adorning her face.  Stood at Clints bedside she simply stood and observed him for a moment, for as he stood there he was barely recognisable, his skin was palid, grey almost, save for the scratches and bruises that adorned a good proportion of his body. Gingerly, as if she were afraid of waking him, or hurting him more than she already had, Natasha lifted her hand, fingers skimming through the short lengths of his hair “ I’m sorry” she whispered “I’m so, so, sorry” 

[breakfastbreakfast]

[onceupxnadecember]

“ A good man once told me ‘ pancakes are food for the soul’....quite frankly I was surprised to learn he possessed a soul.” 

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

When the World Goes Silent || onceupxnadecember

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

Was it foolish to be hurt that she didn’t even say goodbye? Clint stood there with his hands in his pockets… watching her leave. His chest ached dully. “Yeah…. see you later I guess…” He sighed softly, knowing she wouldn’t hear him as she’d climbed into the car and they were already pulling away. He grabbed his bags and headed for the second vehicle. As he crawled in, his passport was already waiting as well as his government documents and his plane ticket. Just because SHIELD was gone, didn’t mean his documents wouldn’t get him places.

He stared out the window as the car pulled away.Something didn’t settle right in him, but … then again he had just ruined the best thing he’d ever had by being an idiot. He attributed it to that. Losing Natasha wasn’t something he wanted to do. His best friend. The woman he’d fallen so stupidly in love with. She didn’t need that. Didn’t need him that way, he should have just left it be. But he hadn’t. Drunk Clint could be a real bastard to sober Clint.  Getting through security with his bow slung over his back in it’s case was as simple as flashing documents and a brief talk with TSA. Then he was slipping round to his first class seat with honors. He sat himself down and tucked the bow in next to him while his other bag as tossed up into the over head. He settled in for the flight and tried to get some sleep. It wasn’t the same without Nat there.  Often when they slept through flights they sat close, touching somewhere, knees, shoulders, arms. It was a comfort thing. Proof that they were still there. He didn’t have that this time and even if she were here she’d be isles away from him. She wanted nothing to do with him. God that hurt the worst. He could deal with her not loving him, her regretting what they had done. But she’d just completely shut him out. No subtle touches, no small smiles or knowing looks just…. nothing.  Clint gritted his teeth and rested his head against the window as the plane took off.  ~~~ He’d come into a shit fest. Two days and he was already wearing down to the quick. The call for help had turned into a recovery mission. It was only getting worse too. The longer he was there the more of the shitheads filed into the city. It was crawling with them now. Hydra goons. They were spreading like a disease. No one knew about it… but they were mingling among civies and Clint could pick them out any day of the week.  He fought, arrow after arrow, trying to protect the agents that were still on their side. People who had been ambushed. They were good agents, the few surviving, he’d worked with them from time to time. So he was going to defend them. He did send messages like he said he would. Every other day.  He’d been on it for a week.  That’s when things got messy. In all his exhaustion he’d been caught off guard. They’d taken him away while the others escaped. He was glad for that at least. When they arrived at their base of operations he was instantly subdued and chained to the floor like a dog. One of them turned his mobile lazily.  “ Keeping people from worrying…. cute.” He snorted.  “ We’ll be sure they don’t worry about you…” Another laughed.  He glowered up at them, mouth shut tight. He wasn’t about to give them a damn thing. They’d get nothing. They’d have to kill him. That was all they’d benefit from him. Unfortunately… that wasn’t going to stop them from what they had planned.  They sent messages every other day… just as he had been, and they tortured him. Days blurred together for him and he lost track of how long he’d been there. Weak from blood loss and their withholding food for long periods, he was a shell of his old self, but he faithfully kept his mouth shut, uttering nothing but the occasional scream or cry of pain, cursing them.  Somewhere along the way, they had used his own weapon against him. Broke his bow, and relentlessly, in their frustration, beat him with his arrows in any way they could. It was that which let him get away though. A broken tip that clattered under his knee. Explosive. He broke it into three charges that night, setting one to each chain. When it went off he was disoriented, ears ringing and he ran.  In his absence and their panic they stopped sending messages. Clint crossed borders, walking, dirty and a mess and hardly managing to drag himself along in a daze. Days didn’t matter. He just kept walking, hoping to… well really he didn’t know much of what he was looking for. Disoriented and lost.

[onceupxnadecember]

For the duration of Clints absence, Natasha essentially became a recluse. Time and time again, from when she first woke in the morning until came the time when she forced herself to go to sleep at night. Just what had happened up at the cabin haunted her.

To those on the outside, her reaction would seem a little too much. But those days she didn’t have Clint to go to were practically torturous, and Natasha knew first hand true torture. This however wasn’t so much physically as it was emotional. The rift that had been pushed between them had the same ache pulsing in her chest morning noon and night, and in the early hours of the morning when the assassin found herself roaming the floors of the tower; stopping at Clints floor for several minutes before moving on.  Whilst he hadn’t checked in directly with her. Thanks to those around her, regular updates on Clints well being were provided, but when the follow on messages ceased was when Natasha worried. Her sleep schedule had turned into something even she couldn’t make sense. It was that morning, the morning they got the call to alert them to Clints capture that Natasha could sense something was off. The air was stagnant, almost. A certain malevolence lingered, that despite her hardest efforts, she could not shake, but for a good duration of the morning, and well into early afternoon, the day passed just as those preceding it had. She woke, took advantage of her own private gym, remained wrapped up in her own little bubble, her own little cocoon nothing more.  Come that evening, her phone shattered the silence that had enveloped her, and without so much as looking at the screen, she knew what the call would entail. In silence she listened to the specifics, enlightening to her to the details of the attack launched upon the very agents Clint was trying to protect. How he went out of his way to save them. Always proving his worth.  He was safe, and for a brief moment that was all that mattered. To hear those words alleviated all worries she possessed. He was alive, he was still somewhere on this godforsaken planet, and even if he despised her for all she was worth, and by extension she would accept such a fate. Knowing he was alive meant more to her than anything. 

There had been however one thing she hadn’t taken into account, and as she heard of the injuries sustained, her heart sank to the pit of her stomach, the latter turning everything on its head completely. Clint Barton deemed almost completely deaf. This was her fault. This had been her doing. If not directly then by what she had put him through emotionally. If she hadn’t been so irresponsible. Hadn’t allowed her heart to rule her head, would this have happened? Grip loosening on the phone she allowed it to drop to the floor, clattering and snapping shut in the process. If he didn’t hate her. Then surely the hate she possessed for herself right now was enough for the both of them. 

[wildermouse]

[imisshowitwasbefore]

[dzembrkind]

[onceupxnadecember]

“ No matter how tough an individuals exterior. There will always remain a part of them that craves the intimacy of another. To be held, to be cherished, to be worshipped...... Be it love making in the early hours of the morning. Or no more than a mindless fuck in the dead of night. It’s human.... I need to remember what it’s like to be human.... I need you....” 

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

When the World Goes Silent || onceupxnadecember

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

The silence was utterly stifling. He was suffocating on the thick unwelcomeness of the air around them but he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t let it show just how much it effected him. Clint just kept on driving. The soft sounds she made, even though he was sure she didn’t realize he could hear, made him ache. He’d done this. He’d made it this way hadn’t he?  When they reached the airport and she scrambled out of the car he felt his heart twist hard. She wanted away from him. The hawk tucked his head down a little and it took a bit before they had jumped the planes cold engines. In that time he watched her subtly, aching to gather her in his arms and hold her. Tell her it would be alright and they would sort it out.  Unfortunate that he knew it wouldn’t be so simple. When they climbed onto the plane he stayed towards the front. He secured his bags and he tried to focus on just what he was going to do. The familiar feeling of the plane climbing made him turn his head to watch their briefly perfect hideaway… disappear. Good things don’t last forever he supposed. The archer turned his eyes instead to his bow, making sure everything was in order. He was fussing with his arrows when he heard her advance on him.  The soft, cold press of her fingers to his nape made a controlled breath leave his parted lips. She couldn’t even face him. Fuck.  " No. I’m not." He told her quietly in reply.  The archer just continued to look over his arrows, ” I’ll be a few weeks. At best. Don’t worry I’ll send you messages every other day or so.”  He wouldn’t make her worry if he could help it.  Then she was moving back to her seat again and his shoulders sagged a little. ” I wont,” he told her evenly, ” I’ll be on my best behavior.”  It wasn’t like he HAD to do it. Mostly he just needed to get the hell out and get his mind focused on something. This was the best way. Idle for too long. He was a weapon… and a weapon needed to be honed and used.  He fell into silence as they continued to fly.  It was midday when they landed. He grabbed his things already knowing his next ride would be waiting for him. With his bag and bow he thanked the pilot and slipped off the plane. He paused, waiting for her quietly. When she had both feet on the tarmac he looked at her, or tried to.  " Tell Stark not to get his panties in a bunch. I’ll debrief when I get back." 

[onceupxnadecember]

Natasha drew in a long breath and nodded “ Yeah...I’ll tell Stark” a certain bitterness coloured her tone, as well as an annoyance, though it was undoubtedly an annoyance with herself due to her own ability to handle such a delicate situation like an adult. Lips pursed, she offered him a curt nod before she turned on her heel and moved back in the direction of one of the waiting cars that would drive her back to the tower. 

For the duration of the journey, she found herself blinking back the uncomfortable burn of tears that lingered in the back of throat and blurred her vision. Many years ago she vowed she would never let another man have such a profound effect over her. Never again would she let another man work his way beneath her skin and leave her feeling vulnerable, like an open wound, exposed, open to the elements. Her head dropped and angrily she wiped the hot tears that fell down her cheeks, leaving tracks against her skin. Without a shadow of a doubt, and in no way what so ever could she deny it, she was in love with Clint.  Once back at the tower, she carefully skirted through the main living area and avoided looking at anybody directly. Solitude was what she craved more than anything. To be alone with her thoughts. To piece together just what had happened, and more importantly, why she had let it happen. Why she had no qualms with hurting the very man who had risked his life numerous times, had sacrificed everything he had for her, and all she offered in return was to push him away, to lock herself off and retreat back within herself, when all she wanted to do was tell him just how much she loved him. How the thought of losing him caused her physical pain. That to wake up in the morning and thing she wouldn’t see him was excuse enough to not wake up and waste the day.  Back on her floor, her bags were dumped at the door, as she woodenly padded through her living area and through to her bedroom. There was a chill in the air that had her skin prickling and a light shiver rolling down her spine, but she did little to acknowledge it. Her face was a blank expressionless mask as she perched on the edge of the bed and pulled her shoes off.  Lying down on her side; knees tucked up to her chest, she stared at the far wall, the same chain which she always wore around her neck lifted from beneath the neck of her shirt revealing the same worn arrow head which clutched in her palm, the pad of her thumb running the same path back and forth as her eyes slid shut and one broken cry shook her shoulders.  For the next 3 days she didn’t so much as make an appearance in the tower. She simple confided herself to her floor, barely sleeping, barely eating. She merely existed. In a weaker state than she had ever been before, if anybody were to see her in such a way, she could only imagine the vicious rumours that would begin to circulate around the tower.

[arkienesanity29]

I’m not ready to let you go, and I don’t think I will ever be.

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

When the World Goes Silent || onceupxnadecember

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

Clint didn’t even get a chance to say anything. She was already gone and out the door. He cursed, kicking the table and toppling it over. The archer snapped, so frustrated and fucking angry at everything. He threw one of the pillows off the couch against the far wall and stormed up the stairs. Fuck this.  He didn’t know what to give her. What to do for her. He was always going to be there for her, Always. So what more was there to make her happy? The archer had to take a moment, leaning against the wall trying not to slam his head against it. Angry, hurt tears bubbled into his eyes and threatened to dribbled down his cheeks. He wiped them away furiously. He cursed… threw his things around and into his bags. He grabbed his bow case roughly from under the bed and stormed down the steps. It took him a few minutes to get the fire put out.  Finally he came out, mouth pulled into a hard line, eyes a bit puffy and red. He almost threw his bags into the car and climbed into the drivers seat. Pulling his  seat belt he didn’t say anything, just backed the car out of the driveway and headed for the little airstrip. The roads were slick already and starting to cover with snow but he was capable of getting them down the mountain with no trouble.  Love was a stupid thing that made men into complete idiots. Love hurt, it would break your heart the moment it got the chance. He didn’t know what she wanted him to do. And that’s always what it would come back to. He didn’t know. So he covered his wounds with irritation. Smothered down everything with anger and frustration. His hands gripped the wheel tight and he swallowed down the way his chest cramped because he could feel that she was hurt and he loathed himself for doing that to her.  Best if he just went away, all he ever seemed to be able to do recently is hurt her. So he’d go for a bit. Give her time. Of course if she called he’d be there in a heart beat but he wouldn’t let it happen again. 

[onceupxnadecember]

More than anything she wanted to talk. To break the atmosphere that loomed around them, thick and confiding. A metaphorical smog had settled inside of the car and it was choking. Natasha found it difficult to breath, her chest tightening, eyes watering, and a deep flush colouring her cheeks that had her barely masking a gasp as a cough.  It was all she could do to stop herself from breaking down right then and there. Her frame was already trembling, and as she shifted in her seat, she brought her forehead to rest against the cool glass of the window, her eyes tight shut as she willed herself to fall asleep. Anything to make the time pass quicker. Concentrating of the lulling rock and roll of the car, she felt herself slipping off into a light slumber, though it did little to stop the feeling that her heart was beating in her throat.  Once at the airstrip and she was afforded the chance to leave the car, she couldn't have done so sooner. For a moment she leant against the side of the car, eyes tight shut, head tilted back as she drew in ragged breaths through parted lips. It was only when the planes engine stuttering to life broke into her train of thought did she pull herself together.  Bags grabbed from the car, she boarded the plane within a matter of minutes, procuring the seat towards the back of the cabin, the furthest corner, where she could at least be afforded a moment to herself. As  the small aircraft climbed, she remained silent, the ground below them giving away to light fluffy clouds before it disappeared out of sight all together. As they cruised through the sky, she moved up behind him, a hand resting against the back of his neck, she didn't dare move around to face him, she wished to see the same pain she knew would radiate behind his own gaze about as much as she wished him to see her own. " You're not coming back to the tower, are you?" It was a statement more than it was a question, her fingers gently dancing across the skin at the nape of his neck, she grit her jaw and let out a short breath, her head dipping she pressed a kiss to the top of his head, her body lingering near his just for a moment before she pulled back and took up her seat once more " Just promise me you'll.....Clint.....Don't do anything stupid" decidedly the opposite of anything she wished to say to him, but it was all she could seem to muster. " Just come back to me" she whispered under her breath before turning her gaze out of the window once more.

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

When the World Goes Silent || onceupxnadecember

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

He wasn’t sure he could believe that… Not really. Because even her explanation cemented into him that it was something she didn’t want and that means it shouldn’t have happened. He tried to cement himself in place… to be reasonable and serious without being foolish. She sat next to him and he just glared holes into the floor. " What’s done is done. We can forget about it. Never happened. Wont happen again," he mumbled, " There’s no room for it." Not this life. Not the life where he was due to die in the field before he could ever lose his self worth… before he got the chance to grow old and no longer useful. That was fine. If that was what she wanted so be it he wouldn’t complain at all.   His blue eyes set on her as he spoke and Clint just … it didn’t settle in him well he supposed. He offered her a weak little smile and a nod. ” Yeah…. sure. I get it.” She was right. A man like him … shouldn’t be allowed to have anything so precious.  " Heat of the moment thing Nat."  He didn’t want to believe that. Not really. He’d even tried to stop it from happening hadn’t he?  " Natasha. You’re being foolish," he told her quietly, sighing, " I’ve never given you reason to think I’m going to leave you. Ever. I can’t. I’m dependent on you. You’re my partner, You’re my best friend and I’m not just going to leave. " Sure they had their fights, but he wasn’t gonna do anything on purpose.  Clint gave her hand a little squeeze.  It was his phones turn to go off. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned at the text. He had the same message to return to the tower… and something else from an outside source.  He pressed his lips together a little. Mission. God he needed a mission.

[onceupxnadecember]

The chime of his phone was neither wanted nor appreciated. Breaking the bubble that encompassed them as they both sat piecing together the fragments of their broken morning. Natahsa watched on as his expression contorted into one that she knew all too well. Confusion, combined with annoyance, and something else she couldn't quite make out, which struck a certain fear within her. Wordlessly she got to her feet and moved upstairs to where her bags were packed and settled on her bed. Hefting them onto her shoulder she jogged downstairs and moved to set them by the door.

" Well aren't you going to suggest we head back sooner rather than later?" she questioned, her gaze only settled on him momentarily before it filtered off around the room. Settling out of the window; to the flames growing in the fireplace, anywhere but on him, for she found the longer she looked at him, the more the dull ache in her chest grew to a level that she was incapable of managing. The keys were plucked from where they had been tossed on the side, and pulling the door open, she pushed on through the biting wind and snow, which in no more than a few hours had already climbed to rest just below her knee.

Bags thrown into the car, she settled herself into the passenger seat and waited. Knees tucked up to rest against her chest, her chin resting atop one as she peered ahead and watched as thick non uniform snowflakes continued to fall.

Closing her eyes, flickers of last night flashed across her mind, like a film reel being played on repeat over and over. It cause a grimace to cross her face as ahand lifted and her fingers ghosted over the red mark left against her skin just beneath her ear. She was hurt. The same dull ache only served to grow as it spread, residing just beneath the surface of her skin; spreading out across her entire body.

Funny that all she wished for  was to go back to that moment where she had been safely curled up in his arms. Her body snug against his, head tucked beneath his chin as she slept on. The city, back home long forgotten. She had been content, happy, relaxed.....safe. But such a moment was all it was, now lost forever. and as she allowed her mind to dwell on the thought, her balled fist came into contact with the door, the car shaking just a little beneath its force.

Natasha could not cry, nor would she allow herself to cry. To cry was a weakness, and if nothing else, she was going to learn from this moment. Commit it to memory and promise herself that never again would she allow herself to be hurt in such a way. Though something tucked away far in the back of her mind told her that all of this was merely the beginning.

Clint Barton would be the very man to shatter her heart into a thousand tiny shards. The very man to leave her feeling broken, lost and alone. But the same man she would faithfully turn back to in her time of need. He was her drug, her painful obsession. The one thing she could never quite let go of.

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

When the World Goes Silent || onceupxnadecember

[thewinglesshawk-blog-deactivate]

He was just growing more and more frustrated. He knew he shouldn’t let it bother him like this but he did. Because in the end all he wanted for her was happiness. That’s all he ever wanted for Natasha. Clint knew that he himself… probably couldn’t do that for her. He couldn’t fix everything. He tried, oh god did he ever try, but that didn’t mean shit in the long run. 

The archer heard her open the door, actually he’d even heard her footfall on the stairs. He didn’t stop, a sizable pile of wood halfhazardly stacked off to one side and he was making a decent dent on the unchopped pile. Her voice, no matter how quiet, rang clearly to him and he brought the ax down hard into the log he had already set up. The tool lodged into the trunk of the tree he’d been putting the pieces on. Clint straightened, rolling his shoulders, feeling his muscles ticking slightly.  He heaved a small sigh and grabbed up some of the wood he’d cut and turned, trudging through the snow and back into the house. He kicked his boots off at the door, lases left undone and dragging, having gathered a bit of snow and ice. He shook off a little, cheeks, ears, and the end of his nose red with the bite of winter.  He stacked the wood near the fireplace and built it back up for the day. Clint sat down next to the fireplace, warming cold red hands over the orange flames growing slowly.  " What do you want to talk about Natasha?" He sighed quietly, not sounding put out but mostly a little distracted. 

[onceupxnadecember]

" I didn't mean what I said" were the first words she spoke. It was the truth, she hadn't. She hadn't meant to hurt him, she hadn't meant to run her mouth before she could think, but the fact of the matter was; she couldn't afford the chance of being hurt again. Least of all could she stand the thought of being hurt by him. But already the damage had been done, already she had hurt him, and now before he could exact his own particular brand of 'revenge' she was starting to pull away.  Slowly, as if she were afraid he would bolt and run, Natasha took a step forwards, then another, until she was stood next to where he had settled himself on the floor. Her legs up against her chest and turned to look at him " It wasn't a mistake in as much as I didn't want it to happen....." she started, her brow drawn together as she mentally fought to string together " I knew exactly what I was doing, despite what might happen between us, and regardless of whatever was happening back home with Steve....."  she let out a short sharp breath. Momentarily hit with the realisation that already she had referred to it in the past tense. Perhaps her ability to compartmentalise at times was a blessing, but in that moment, she couldn't help but think it was a curse. " It's all irrelevant compared to what I know I could have with you..... But my life, your life..... it doesn't make allowance for it."  A hand lifted, she slipped it beneath his chin and turned his head, forcing him to look at her,  her gaze bore into his " Another time, another place, another life, there's nothing more I could ask for than giving in to all of this. But I can't hurt you, and I can't let you hurt me. It will happen, it has happened, and that is something I'm not willing to let happen" Slowly her thumb traced a path across his bottom lip, her jaw tensing as she let out a slightly shuddering breath " I can't lose you, and if I let you in. If I let down my one last defence against you...."  Her hand pulled back and ran through her hair before she moved to lie back against the floor, eyes closed as her face contorted into an expression pain, uncertainty " You're already the biggest weakness I possess. You're already the very reason my life is like it is. God! My entire life has gravitated around you since the day I met you, and I need that."  Turning her head to him, she reached to take hold of his hand, her fingers running against the callouses on his palm, wrapping around his and gripping tightly as though he were the very thing keeping her grounded. But who was she to argue that fact? Wasn't that the way things had been? " I need to know I'm not going to lose you, I need you"  It wasn't a declaration of love. Nor would such a word fall from her lips any time soon. But in her own selfish and twisted way, it was all she had to offer. But deep down, where a twist of self loathing and lack of self worth had settled, she knew it wouldn't be enough.