Archive of laughter
A/N: Natasha realizes that Clint’s motivation is at a new low and tries to shift his mind away from the present. When he accidentally offers her the perfect method for doing so, she does not hesitate. Set in the What if… episode 1x08 with post-apocalyptic Clintasha vibes. I missed them.
2766 words
„Ughhhh.“
„…“
„Hngggh.“
„…“
„Aw man aw man aw man.“
Natasha looked up from the sheets in her hands with a reprimanding look in her eyes. „Clint!“
„What?“ With a sour expression he sent her a glare over his metal shoulder from where he stood in front of a gigantic shelf, stacked with boxes full of documents. „If I don’t get to bitch about this, I doubt I’ll live through it.“
Natasha’s annoyed countenance made room for worry when she saw how large the shadows under Clint’s eyes were. How dark and hopeless they looked over the left-over shelves of the Archive. Hundreds of them, holding God knew how many files they had to look through to find answers.
It wasn’t like Clint was being dramatic. He was at the limit of his strength, at the far corner of his already fragile mental stability after years of running, hiding, bleeding and grieving. After years of trying to endure the fact that him and Natasha were, as far as they were informed, the last two living beings not only of their planet, but of the entire universe. After Ultron had destroyed everything and everyone else.
Natasha knew what he felt like, knew how hard it could get to keep it together, to not succumb to madness. Especially when faced with an enormous Russian Archive stacked with billion sheets of paper that may or may not offer them a solution in a single printed line or a minimal percentage of about 0,0001 percent of the files at hand.
She could see the horror Clint was experiencing in connection to the possibly hopeless workload that lay ahead of them and she was scared of the thoughts that were currently running through his mind, unseen, pondering dark questions and possibilities she did not dare to even consider.
She had to do something.
Slowly she lowered the files she held in her hands and stared at Clint’s back while he was already busy flipping through boxes again, his head hanging almost as low as his shoulders.
„Hey,“ she gently addressed him, making him stop and look over his shoulder again. Such tired blue eyes. She’d never seen them look this tired before. „Clint, I promise, this will be worth the effort. We will find something that will make all this go away again. Something that will defeat Ultron. I know it.“
His eyes lingered on her for a few moments longer, sadness reflected inside them. Then he turned around again, his shoulders as heavy as before. „Yeah. Sure.“
Now Natasha’s shoulders slumped down as well.
No, no, no, she could not leave him be this way, she could not let this slip and act as if everything was a-okay. She was acting cheerful for the sake of the both of them. But she knew it wouldn’t be good for anything if Clint continued faking smiles and showcasing his I-have-no-hope-left-but-I’ll-do-this-for-you expression.
He didn’t want to worry her. Which was the exact reason why she was so worried.
„Clint?“ She tried again, smiling, despite his loud sigh as he put his box away and turned around another time to face her. With one hand resting on the shelf to support himself he looked at her, softly, despite his obvious frustration. „Yes?“
„Can you imagine that we once thought being caught in an airvent for two days was basically the worst?“
Something in Clint’s posture changed at that. He opened his eyes a bit more and suddenly huffed a short laugh, nodding at her words. „Yeah. Two days. How laughable that seems now.“
„It sure does. But we made the most of it, didn’t we? How did we keep ourselves distracted back then?“ Clint pushed himself away from the shelf with a smile, his thoughts obviously shifting from the dark corner of his mind to a brighter one. Natasha’s smile widened.
„Well, you took an awful load of time to find out that I repeatedly wrote the same word during our Hangman matches.“
Natasha had to laugh out loud at that. „Okay, to my own defense: I did not yet know how stupid you actually were back then!“
„Touché,“ Clint grinned, the shadows under his eyes vanishing slightly. „You did find out about quite a few things while we were hiding out up there. The worst part being that you discovered how ticklish I was. Not exactly fun times for me.“
Natasha smirked at the memory. „Oh no, those were actually reeeeally fun times for you. I remember you laughing incessantly in fact.“
„Do you now?“ Clint squinted his eyes at her in mock anger, a warning spark shooting through them.
„Especially when I tickled you in that one particular spot… where was that again? I think you actually begged for me to stop when I got you th-“
„Tz, shut up!“
Natasha gasped in fake indignation as Clint suddenly turned his back to her, his voice altering to a slightly more embarrassed tone and his hand waving her off, as if to tell her not to dwell on it too much. Of course, that was, in her opinion, the most adorable reaction he could have possibly chosen and she would now dwell on it even more than before. Slowly she moved out of her cross-legged position on the floor, threateningly wiggling her fingertips around. Wasn’t this actually the perfect way to cheer up her favorite person in the world? Why hadn’t she thought of this before?
„Wait, I think I actually do remember. Would you mind if we test this memory, just to make sure-“
„Now is not the time, Natasha.“ He gently tried to reason with her, a meaningful look in his blue eyes when he shortly turned his head around to glance at her.
Natasha lowered her hands. But a teasing smirk remained on her face. „The time for what?“ Clint tried to appear unimpressed by her attempt to make him say it. He seemed determined not to step into her trap this time. Not after all those times he’d already made that mistake.
„You’re not gonna make me say it.“
„Say what, Clint?“
Natasha noticed that he kept looking over his shoulder ever so slightly, as she started approaching him, taking note of her sneakily coming closer. The smallest smile played around the corners of his lips.
„I said you’re not gonna make me say it.“
Natasha felt a wave of happiness course through her stomach at the way Clint’s voice altered ever so slightly. He was smiling, she could tell. Now she was going to make him laugh.
Clint sighed as Natasha came to a halt right behind him. By now he had to be able to feel her breath on the back of his neck.
Natasha’s fingertips were itching to search for some ticklish spots.
„Don’t!“ He said gently, without any conviction whatsoever, the small smile still audible in his words.
„Don’t what, Clint?“ Natasha asked again, her hands slowly nearing his sides from behind.
Clint sighed, his shoulders moving up and down. It was a sigh of defeat. The sigh of someone who had accepted his own fate. Probably already had on the day he’d met her. A fate filled with being Natasha’s favorite victim. She could feel anticipation surge within her as Clint tried to mentally prepare himself for the consequences of his actions. Or rather of her actions.
„Tickle me!“ He submitted with a slightly panicked ring to his voice.
And Natasha didn’t allow him a moment to second guess. „My pleasure.“
Clint was on his knees in no time, dropping the files he’d held in his hands and throwing his head back against the awful feeling spreading on his sides. He instinctively tried to press his elbows to his sides to limit the access for Natasha’s ticklish scratches but she easily wormed her way past his defenses, making his suppressed groans turn into giggles effortlessly.
„NO!“ He huffed, trying to bend over more, further away from her, giggling madly as Natasha’s fingers managed to weasle their way under his arms to scratch at his ribs. „Noho plehease!! Tasha!!“
Natasha chuckled triumphantly and tried to climb her fingertips up higher, tried to get them past his ribcage to wiggle them right into his most ticklish spots, right under his arms. But Clint was trying his utmost to keep her from reaching that spot.
„You are saying no, but you asked me to do this, remember?“ Natasha teased, chuckling when Clint tried to snarl at her, with the emphasis on „tried to“ since any possible effect fell flat due to his laughter mixing in loudly.
„Stahahhaap I mean it!!!“ Clint barked when she suddenly pulled her hands away from his ribs to sling her arms around his chest and pull him down on his back, trying to climb on top of him to pin him down properly. He had to laugh at her antics as he in return tried to grab a hold of her arms or legs or basically any part of her body to have a minimal chance of coming out of this without ridiculing himself senseless.
He didn’t stand a chance though, for his bones and muscles already had to start feeling like useless goo, his laughter wouldn’t seize and he couldn’t see properly through his closed eyes. Natasha couldn’t stop smiling either as she could witness all the beauty of Clint melting underneath her touch - into a tiny puddle of giggles and shrieks.
„No no NOO!! AHahaha GET OHOHFF MEE!!!“ Clint yelled when she accidentally pushed a knee in his stomach in their grappling for the upperhand, resulting in her managing to sit on his hips properly, keeping him down where she wanted to keep him.
„Youhohu fohohoul cheheeater!!“ He laughed when her fingertips started crawling up his sides again and he only had limited space for flailing and turning anymore, his laughetr sounding deeper and more breathless already.
„Cheater? Really? What, just because I hit you here?“ She questioned, making him choke on his laughter when she scribbled her fingers on his stomach.
„Dohohon’t!“ He shrieked, hitting his head against the floor by accident and laughing even more in the aftermath. „IT TICKLES!!“
„I know, honey, it’s why you’re laughing!“ Natasha explained in a playful voice, before she had to free her wrists from one of his iron defensive grips in protection of his upper body, which didn’t stop her for long as she merely had to lean down to blow a raspberry on his unprotected neck, making Clint who had not expected this at all squeal with laughter.
„TH-THAHAT’S NOT ALLOWED!!“ He argued, letting go of her hands and trying to push her away from himself again, laughing helplessly when her fingers were back on their way up his ribs in no time. „Stahahap it already!!!“
„No! We haven’t yet tested my memory!“
„It’s my armpits!! I prhohohomise!! No need for tests, rehehheally!! rEHEHEALLY!!“
Clint kicked out as hard as he could behind Natasha’s back as she managed to wiggle her fingertips the slightest bit underneath his biceps and metal arm to get at the sensitive spots. She smirked and tried to distract Clint by blowing air into his face, chuckling when she saw him squeeze his eyes shut even more. „StAHHAP THAT!!“
„Come on, lemme! Just for a second!“
„Nohoho wahahay!!“
Clint’s laughter was flowing completely freely by then. He had seemingly let go of all things depressing for just this small amount of time, giving in to the unrelenting ticklish feeling and not trying to fight his own laughter anymore. Natasha hadn’t seen him this carefree in years.
She could not stop now, where she was seconds away from making him lose all track of thought. Just for a little while. Determined she moved up a little further on his body, sitting down on his upper stomach and almost making his eyes pop out by the sudden shifts of weight. He couldn’t form a coherent complaint though, since Natasha quickly moved her hands behind her back to dance her fingers down his sides, that were now completely at her mercy due to their new position.
„NHOHOO!! Nohoohoho!! stAHHAHP!! I can’t bREHEHEATHE!!!“ Clint’s eyes were shining from his laughter by now, the bright blue of his iris taking Natasha’s breath away. She grinned at his futile attempts to get a grip of her hands and took this opportunity to push her knees up further, blocking Clint’s ability to defend his armpits any further. He realized this immediately and barked out a single „SHIT!“ before her fingers attacked, making him arch his back and give in to a defeated laughter that came straight from his belly and sounded deeper and richer than all the sounds he’d already made. He couldn’t get another word in, as his laughter kept pouring out of him, merely started shaking his head around and kicking out less than before.
Natasha smiled fondly as she listened to his hearty laughter, the one she hadn’t heard in so long and saw how it brightened up his features.
„I think this proves it alright.“ She chuckled, removing her fingers from his armpit to allow him a breather before she evilly snuck them in again.
„NO NO NO PLEHEHEASE!! STAHAHP!!“ Clint barked out, his laughter sounding a tad bit hysterical as he tried to move out of his fatal position now. But Natasha immediately stopped at his request and gently shifted back to sitting on his hips, allowing his arms to cover his ampits again.
She chuckled softly as he gasped for air, noisily, sounding as if he’d just ran a marathon, his head falling back to the ground. She put her hands on his stomach and grinned when he flinched underneath her touch, gently patting the spot in an offer of peace.
„No more tickling, I promise.“
Clint sighed in relief and moved his head up to look at her again. They glared at each other for a little while, before they both had to laugh - about each other, about themselves, about the fact that they had just done this in the midst of an apocalypse.
Clint groaned and tried to stop chuckling with a pained expression. „Ah, I can’t laugh no more. My stomach will explode!“
„What can I say, Clint, you asked for this!“ Natasha smirked, chuckling when Clint squinted his eyes at her dangerously.
„Oh, you better watch it! I know that you’re not immune to this either!“ Clint tried to poke her in the side, but Natasha snatched his wrist and held on tightly.
„You wouldn’t stand a chance!“
Clint grinned at her, a grin she hadn’t seen in quite a while.
„I’ll attack when you least expect it!“ He purred in a voice that sent a goosebump down Natasha’s arm. Damn, she’d missed this Clint.
„I’ll always expect it then,“ she retorted and stuck her tongue out at him, getting back to her feet and offering him a hand but dropping it again before he could reach for it. Clint chuckled at that. Slowly he pushed himself off the ground as well to get back to where he’d been so rudely interrupted previously.
With his hands on his hips he looked over the shelves of the Archive and sighed. „If you keep doing things like that, we’ll never be done here.“ Clint remarked, bending over to pick up the files he’d dropped earlier.
Natasha waited until he was standing upright again, before she took a step closer to him and threw her arms around him. Clint gasped in surprise, the files flying from his hand to the floor. With a tired huff, he ignored the mess and gently wrapped his arms around Natasha as well. She could feel his warm breath on her head and snuggled closer to his chest.
„It’ll be okay,“ Clint suddenly whispered, stealing her line. She moved her head away from his chest in surprise to look at him. He was smiling, nodding - and she realized that it was all she’d needed from him: reassurance.
She turned her lips into a thin line and nodded as well, a weak smile on her face.
„It will be,“ she agreed, meaning to move away from him and get back to work. But his grip tightened around her. She looked up in horror.
„You didn’t expect that.“ He smirked and Natasha could not believe that he had turned the tables this sneakily until he lifted her into the air, threw her over his shoulder and tickled her sides until her laughter and her fists to his back grew weaker.