Avenging Archer

Lights still in our eyes, we're leaving this whole fairground behind, it's a dream that's going cold. independent Clint Barton RP blog

[agentromanova-blog]

She smothered a laugh. “I know,” she smiled mysteriously back at him. Sometimes she still had contacts tethered within S.H.I.E.L.D., people whose communication lines the enemy wouldn’t have thought to track because they weren’t as conspicuous as Fury or Clint. “And to be completely honest? I think I’ve had my fill of working alone.” She pursed her lips together while her eyes remained on him. “It’s always good to have someone else watch your back for a change.” Her voice was slightly quiet towards the end of that sentence.

Natasha had been programmed to become a magic bullet—the kind of weapon you only need to fire once and who could get precisely to the heart of the problem and get the job done without nobody ever noticing until the damage had been done. She was used to being alone; she had been alone, working by herself and trusting no one until she met Clint. Teamwork had been an alien concept to her at first but she had warmed up to it since.

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, not turning to face her. It shouldn't surprise him that she managed to keep tabs of the agency while she was gone, but hearing that she had been keeping track of him almost made him break out in a smile. "Yeah, Fury stopped assigning new people to me after that. Decided I was better off alone." That was a lie though, Clint was never better off alone, he'd gotten used to it and learned to thrive while alone, but he wasn't better.

Natasha was the person that made him realize that, she was the only person he ever let himself really work with. She respected him and his skills just like he respected her. "I'm glad you're back."

[agentromanova-blog]

It was easy to believe that everything would return to normal by the way Clint had gestured. It was a small yet familiar gesture, something she had taken for granted until she had left him. A small smile decorated her face, one of those smiles that she reserved for people she cared about. That list wasn’t, admittedly, a very long one.

She resisted the urge to reach out and trace the rough angles of his face, just like she had used to do freely when it was just the two of them behind closed doors. For a moment she believed that if she would just reach out, if one of them did, everything would be mended. They could go back to what they used to be.

But what good would it do? If something like this happened again, it would only make things worse, make themselves compromised, create a bigger rift than before. Were they okay? Would they ever be?

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, we are.” Before she could stop herself, her hand covered his, bloodied knuckles and all, and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

He starred at their hands, wanting to know what the right thing to say was but pretty sure that whatever came out of his mouth was going to make things worse. In the past there was nothing they wouldn't tell each other, it was like he felt completely safe and at home with her. Nothing was too much information, she knew about the circus, about his brother, about what he'd done before S.H.I.E.L.D. He hadn't asked her to do the same with him, that wasn't who they were, but she had told him much more than anyone else. Trusted him with more than he had ever held in his life.

Dragging his eyes away from their hands he might her eyes and smiled, it was a small smile but an honest one. "Good, I'm not sure what I'd have done if we couldn't keep being partners," his voice was low and a bit shaky. "No one else could put up with me. One guy tried to get me killed by the men we were tailing." that encounter and ended with a few more scars on his body and a lot more blood on his hands.

[agentromanova-blog]

She held her gaze steady, locked into his as she took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, good. Because we’re going to need that to make this work.” She hoped that he didn’t notice that she was skirting the question of whether she trusted him. Natasha’s principles were simple: trust no one.

But she had come to trust Clint, to some extent, before she had gone rogue for the sake of the job. Did she still trust him now? She could, but would she? She had dared to hope, but trust… that was a different matter entirely.

She found herself perplexed by her own stand and feelings for him. No, feelings were wrong, she admonished herself immediately. She couldn’t still have them for him… could she? She averted her gaze from him. Suddenly her hands seemed interesting. 

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

He pumped his shoulder into her's lightly, forgetting that he was still covered in sweat for the moment. It was a friendly gesture, something he had done time and time again before she had left. "We're the best agents this place has, and we work even better as a team than we do alone."

It seemed like a smarter idea to not wonder about the flash of happiness that rushed through him at the thought of them being partners again. She had been his whole world before she left, the job and Natasha, that was what he had. When she had taken off he had thrown himself entirely into the job, all but forgotten what it was like to have anything else to think about. Just his bow and the life he was holding in his hands. 

"Are we going to be okay?"

[agentromanova-blog]

The corner of her lips twitched slightly. “Maybe you don’t really know me that well after all,” she said quietly. Or did he? The notion that he did, that he might know her better than she had let on, scared her. But he didn’t, she told herself, he didn’t know her, because he didn’t know that she would come back.

But you didn’t either.

Natasha drew a deep, shaky breath, trying to push the incident from her mind. She had never told this part of her mission to anyone, not even to Fury. She had been so far off the grid that no one could possibly have tracked her. In the heart of Siberia, where her mission had taken her, she had been bested — the Widow finally ensnared in a web of artillery that was too heavy for her to fend off, and hauled off into a cell where she had been questioned, tortured, asked to become the turncloak, in that order on a daily basis until she had lost track of time. They had been prepared to handle her. They knew her. Her training in the Red Room, all her strengths and weaknesses. They had known how to hurt her.

And she had almost said yes.

She returned to the present just in time to see him smile at her. It was a genuine one, and she pushed those dark thoughts out of her head to offer him one in return. Natasha was glad to see him back to himself again. “You weren’t being stupid,” she said, sounding a little choked, but she gathered the last of her composure back just in time. “You were just being careful. And you should. You and I both know better than to trust just anyone. Not after all the things we’ve been through.”

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

He locked his eyes onto hers, not sure if his intensity was for her or for him. "I trust you. I do. There was a long time where I thought I would never be able to trust anyone but then you came along." He didn't mention that she had also destroyed that trust, made him feel like nothing and no one would ever stick by him. But that was done, the past is over and they can't take it back. She wouldn't take it back anyway, he knew that he would have done the same thing if the job needed him too.

Even if they couldn't go back to what they had been, they were friends and always  would be. The idea of letting her in again, completely letting her in, terrified him as much as it had the first time. Feeling vulnerable was a liability in their lives and he had let her into every part of him. Told her things he'd never told another soul. She knew things about his past, about Trick Shot, about his brother, that no one else did. And he still trusted her with those secrets.

"Yeah. I trust you."

[agentromanova-blog]

Her breath hitched slightly when he came to sit beside her. Her first instinct was to move away, but she willed herself not to. She couldn’t ruin this for them. Not this time. She smiled and looked down at her hands. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she said. “I get hurt all the time.” She glanced back up at him and saw the blood on his face. Clicking her tongue, she licked the pad of her right thumb to wet it and wiped the streaks away while the other hand held his head in place. When they were gone, she dropped her hands and sighed, smiling again. There were still faint traces of red on his face, but at least it was better than before. “There. Much better,” she said quietly. 

Natasha took a deep breath and exhaled. “You’re right. I’ve given my whole life to this job. And I’m not about to change just because - well, just because I’ve been emotionally compromised. I intend to keep on doing what I do.” Because it’s the only thing I can do. And she knew that it was the same for Clint. “You’re not in the wrong here. I am.” She looked away. “I should have told you what was really going on. But I thought it was best if you didn’t get involved. I didn’t want to put you in unnecessary danger.” She paused for a moment, then continued in a quieter voice. “I’d hoped you would understand. I hoped that you would trust me.” Natasha smiled and scoffed, despite herself. “I guess I was wrong to have hope.”

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

"That's it though. You shouldn't have been wrong, I should have trusted you. Even if you didn't tell me what was happening. I know you, you know me, I should've known better." That was what had been keeping him awake, not lack of trust in her. Anger with himself, for being so foolish that he let him emotions completely wipe out what he knew to be true. 

His own issues with trust had always been a part of him, there was no one alive that had easily gotten past his barriers. Natasha was the only one that had broken them down systematically, as if she didn't even know they were there. But her leaving had brought it all back, made those barriers come back ten times stronger than they had ever been. "Besides, I honestly believe that if you truly betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D, you would kill me in my sleep." 

It was a joke, not that he didn't really believe that, but he laughed and smiled at her. A true smile, not one made from adrenaline or anything besides amusement. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, he felt like he could go another round with the punching bag. Maybe even a round with Natasha, if she weren't hurt. "Thank you," he leaned his head against the wall and turned his neck to look at her, "for giving me time to realize how stupid I was being."

[agentromanova-blog]

“Obviously I couldn’t either. And there’s only so much that reading can do to amuse me,” she said with a tentative smile, coming to a stop a few feet away from him. She didn’t want to get too close to him; didn’t want him to feel that she was trying to encroach into his personal space. It pained her to think that once upon a time she could sidle up next to him and he wouldn’t even bat an eyelid.

Things had changed now.

She made her way to the bench and lowered herself gingerly on it. “I’m fine,” she said, setting her crutches to one side and straightening out her injured leg. “There’s no fun to be had in sitting in bed all day.” She made a mock-pout on her face and caught herself a few seconds later. Why was she acting as if the last few years hadn’t gotten between them? She hoped that Clint didn’t catch that. 

They had to stop this. Whatever awkwardness and distance there was between them. Natasha had had many partners in the past, whether in the KGB or with S.H.I.E.L.D., but she had found it easiest to work with Clint. And she had felt the safest around him too. Knowing that he was there to watch her back, even if he wasn’t exactly beside her, was the closest thing she had ever gotten to feeling secure. “Talk to me, Clint.” Her voice was quiet as she looked up at him. She knew that the same thing was bugging him as well, judging from the way he was talking to her, avoiding direct eye contact with her.

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

Not allowing himself a moment to think, he took a seat next to her, almost close enough that their arms were touching. A part of him wanted to reach his hand out and grab her hands, twine their fingers together like they used to. This wasn't like it used to be though, before he never would have left her to climb her way up that rope alone. Let her get shot while he was supposed to watching out for her. They never would have had to have a talk like this before.

"I fucked up, we have to trust each other and I let you down. You got hurt. I'm sorry." His knuckles were bruised and scrapped from the punching bag but that didn't stop him from rubbing them across his eyes. A few bits of blood stayed on his face. He looked at her then, for the first time since they got back. They needed to be okay, they had to be okay.

"I need to get over myself. You did what you did for S.H.I.E.L.D. We'd both do anything for the job." He stopped for a moment, attempting to gather his thoughts and get them in order, this was what he wanted to do. To forgive her for what happened, it was in the past and it was done. Nothing they could do to change it. "I'm sorry I've been such an asshole."

[agentromanova-blog]

Technically, Natasha wasn’t supposed to walk around while her leg was still recuperating from the gunshot wound, but with her healing processes usually lasted for a shorter period of time compared to most people. However she couldn’t stand the idea of sitting around for a long time. The most interesting of books could only hold her attention for so long, and she couldn’t sleep, try as she might.

She hated to use the crutches, but it was either those, or risk opening the wound again. She wandered - or rather, hobbled - down the corridors of HQ with no particular destination in sight. Since it was late, not many agents were still up, only the ones on the graveyard shift. They nodded at her and some wished her to get well soon, to which she nodded in return and said her thanks politely. It was good to be among people that didn’t want to kill her.

Somehow she found herself passing by the gym. The sound of someone having a go at the punching bag drew her attention. Who could still be training at this hour?

Natasha only knew one such person.

Despite her better judgment, she pushed open the door to the gym. Sure enough, there he was. She would always recognise him no matter which angle of him faced her. The way he rested his head against the punching bag naturally made her concerned. Natasha debated as to whether she should speak to him. He had been giving him mixed signals throughout their previous mission. She could tell that he hadn’t really gotten over her turning on him all those years ago. What perplexed her was how best to make peace with him.

And at the same time deal with her burgeoning feelings for him, which she thought she had managed to effectively kill the moment she had fled from S.H.I.E.L.D.

But then again, matters of the heart were never easy. Natasha usually prided herself on being able to get on top of her feelings, but with Clint it was different.

“Trouble sleeping, Clint?” she said at last as she walked towards him.

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

It took him a moment before he responded, the fact that he hadn't heard her enter the room troubled him. He had always been good at keeping an eye and an ear on everything going on around him. "Yeah, usually do." He walked away from the bag, turning to face her. The sight of the crutches reminded him of why he couldn't sleep in the first place.

"What about you? I thought you weren't supposed to be walking around just yet?" He grabbed a small towel on the bench in the gym and wiped sweat off of his face, trying to give himself a moment to decide what to say. They needed to be able to protect each other, there was no other partner that he worked as well with but if they couldn't find a way to deal with this than they would end up in far worse condition than a bullet to the leg.

Despite the sudden wave of exhaustion that claimed him, he didn't sit down, stayed watching her and thinking. It had been so long since she had left, he'd spent so much time being furious with her that he had forgotten what it was like to care about her. But that all came rushing back the second he saw her wound.  

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

The punching bag moved with his every hit, no one was here to hold it still. It was late at night, he should have been asleep hours ago but he just couldn't manage it. Sleep never really came easy to him, too many nightmares that surfaced. The only time in his life sleep had ever been easy was when Natasha was beside him, and even then he still woke up drenched in sweat. He'd spent a few hours tossing and turning in bed before giving up, everything in his head was Natasha getting shot in the leg and how he should have had her back.

Partners. They were supposed to be partners again but neither of them trusted each other enough. He didn't trust her to not leave again and she didn't trust him to have her back. They would both end up in serious trouble if they couldn't get over it, but Clint wasn't sure if he could. The only sound in the gym was his fists hitting the bag, he wasn't wearing gloves like he should be. The pain of his knuckles being rubbed raw helped him focus and he had always hated wearing gloves, they messed up his dexterity.

The sweat was dripping into his eyes so he stopped, gripping the bag and resting his head against it, trying to clear his thoughts. Even if he hadn't forgiven Natasha yet, he couldn't keep this up or they would both end up dead. They had to talk, had to reach an understanding. Clint had always been an easy talker, words came naturally to him. But those conversations weren't like this one was going to be.

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

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[trainedinacircustent-blog]

Clint jumped out of the car the moment they stopped. Currently he could think of nothing better than taking a hot shower and collapsing into his bed. Though he knew that the adrenaline pumping through his veins wasn't likely to dissipate soon. It would probably require a little while in the range before he was actually able to sleep. He pulled his bow and quiver out of the car and folded the bow into his bag.

"Do you want help?" He walked to her side of the car and looked down at her leg, his mouth a tight line. She didn't need him to help her but this is what partners did right? They got over themselves and helped. Whenever he looked at her he saw her face the night she left, without telling him what was happening or that he might never see her again, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

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[trainedinacircustent-blog]

Nodding, Clint pulled out a bottle of water and took a large gulp. Now that they were relatively safe, for the moment at least, he felt the thirst that had been tugging at him since the fight began. Hopefully the drive back to their extraction point wouldn't take long. Clint wanted a hot shower and a long sleep, though that last part rarely came easily. He slept in fits and starts, had ever since he was a kid. 

"No problem, partners, right? Look after one another."

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

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[trainedinacircustent-blog]

He groaned and rubbed his hip that had hit the gearshift when she pulled him in. "I'm fine, was just trying slow them down a bit." Turning around he pulled the door shut, the wind making it nearly impossible to do so. Without sparring another glance backwards he closed his eyes and let out a breath. This wasn't the first mission he had nearly died on, and it wouldn't be the last.

Finally, he managed to look at her again, hoping she hadn't heard the nickname but knowing she had. "Your leg? Is it okay? I have more bandages."

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

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[trainedinacircustent-blog]

"I got it." Grabbing one of the arrows from his quiver and leaned out his window. There was barely any time for him to aim, the guards in the post attached to the gate had their guns trained on the car. Before firing he said a quick prayer to a god he had long sense stopped believing in that this would work. The arrow flew into a small guarded outlet box in the guard post.

He held his breath for a second and let it our when the gates stopped closing, leaving just enough room for them to squeeze through in the car. "Well, okay, one problem solved. Now for the group of individuals trying to kill us." Picking a handful of arrows he turned his body around in the seat and pushed the car door open. Trying to not completely throw himself out of a moving vehicle he leaned out and started firing into the group behind them, not really aiming.

[agentromanova-blog]

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Clint ducked on the roof when he saw the rocket she fired, covering his ears with his arms and making his body as small as possible to avoid an shrapnel. With a laugh he tossed himself over the edge of the building, landing and rolling until he could stand without injuring himself. As soon as she pulled up in front of him he was in the car, wanting to get the hell out of here.

"Nice shoot with that bazooka, Nat." The nickname escaped his lips before he had thought about it. Something he hadn't called her since she left, something he never thought he would say to her again. It was too late to take back and he didn't know if he wanted to. Without looking at her Clint pulled his quiver off his back and put it between his feet in the car, making sure he could grab an arrow quickly if needed.

[agentromanova-blog]

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[trainedinacircustent-blog]

Clint stood quickly and cut the rope that the men were currently trying to climb up, they crashed to the ground with a cry. He smirked and moved to the edge of the roof to offer Natasha some cover. A few of the guards saw him and started firing onto the roof but none managed to hit him as he moved his body along the edge and fired at any guard that he saw.

Keeping his eyes on everything he saw a group of guards making their way from the warehouse around the corner, they were well armed and there was a lot of them. "Black Widow, we got a problem. A group of fifteen guards, all with high powered weapons are headed this way," he spoke loudly into his comm and fired into the group. One of the guards went down but the rest kept charging.

[agentromanova-blog]

“There’s no time - ” But before Natasha could finish the sentence, Clint was already tending to the gunshot wound. She grimaced, but his fingers worked quickly, preventing anymore pain than what the bullet was already causing, and for a few seconds she let herself feel relieved to have him around. She had nearly forgotten what it was like to have a partner after all those years of working alone. 

The sound of more footsteps coming up the stairs alerted Natasha. As the first few faces came into view, she gripped the pistol at her holster and fired a few rounds over Clint’s shoulder. More were approaching from the opposite side of the rafters. Natasha managed to take a few down with the pistol before she ran out of rounds. They were going to be surrounded in a few seconds. She looked upwards. The only way out would be up.

“Blow a hole in the roof, Clint. You remember how to climb, don’t you?” she said teasingly as she unhooked two explosive discs from her belt, activated them and tossed them right in the path of the incoming men. Then she leaped onto the rafters and scaled it as quickly as she could with her wounded leg, aiming for a height that wasn’t too long for the cable attached to one of Clint’s grappling hook arrows.

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

Standing up he didn't spare a glance to the bodies around them. Gripping the explosive arrow in his hand he notched it and aimed up, making sure there was a clear shoot to the roof and somewhere for them to jump from. Letting it go he quickly ducked to the side in order to avoid falling debris from the hole that the arrow was sure to make.

The explosion was loud and slightly jarring. Without giving himself to think he grabbed a grappling hook and shot it through the hole. When he felt it latch on something Clint tossed the bow across his shoulder and wrapped himself around the rope. "Yeah, I think I remember how to climb," laughing he pulled himself up as quickly as possible, trusting that she was fine and didn't need help.

When he reached the roof Clint pushed himself up and over, sitting on the ground for a moment to allow his muscles to relax.

[agentromanova-blog]

Natasha grabbed the unconscious man’s machine rifle and fired in the direction of the men. The bullets caught the men in front but their comrades behind them  managed to send a shower of them her way. Natasha barrel-rolled out of the way and looked up just in time to see Hawkeye’s arrows catch them in the chest. She took the rest of them down with her rifle and got to her feet. A sharp burst of pain shot up her leg and she bit down on her lip to muffle her gasp. She could feel the warm fluid of her own blood trickle slowly down her left thigh from where the bullet had lodged itself. Great, just great.

The sound of Clint’s boots alerted her to the situation at hand. A racket was kicking up below - a cacophony of yells in Russian mixed with the sound of rapid footsteps. Natasha glanced downwards. Lackeys who were alerted to the sound of the fight. “We have to get out of here.” 

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

Clint caught up with her and grabbed an explosive arrow from his quiver. "I agree." A guard rounded the corner and moved to shout but Clint used his bow to bash him across the face and silence him, if they could remain hidden for just a moment longer it would give them time to gather themselves. It took him a moment to dig through the guards belt and remove all the weapons, there was one knife that Clint liked and shoved into his own belt to keep. Leaning over the man he noticed the blood on Natasha's leg and the hole in her pants.

"Wait, are you alright? I have some bandages," Reaching into a pocket on his quiver the archer pulled out a roll of bandages. "It's not much but it might help for a bit." Without looking up at her he wrapped the roll around her leg, keeping his movements tight and professional.

[agentromanova-blog]

“Not so fast, Hawkeye,” she muttered as she saw shadows bouncing off the rooftop. She made out one figure, at least, heading fast down the corridor towards them, but there were probably more. Those men were probably tasked with sweeping the warehouse to make sure that the place was clean before they went.

“Time to go.” She tucked the recording device safely in one of her thigh holsters, activated the electrostatic charges on her bracelets just as the first of the men turned around the corner, saw them, and gave out a sharp yell. “Go long range!” she told Clint just as she darted down the structure and launched herself off the open side.

She grabbed onto an overhanging pipe mid-jump which she used to propel herself onto the passage where the man stood staring open-mouthedly at her. Her boots connected with his jaw and she dropped neatly onto the passageway. The other men were coming fast and her gun and electrostatic cuffs could only hold them off so long. If they opened fire on her… there was no place to hide.

[trainedinacircustent-blog]

"This wasn't going to be easy, was it?" He couldn't tell if he laughed or groaned at the sigh of men coming to attack them. Probably a mix of both. One arrow flew into a mans chest as Clint launched himself away from the men, so he could shoot long range. One guard was trying to climb his way up the rafters to get to him, he was almost to the top when Clint reached over the edge and hit him in the temple with his bow.

"Okay, that was just a stupid decision. Did you really think that would work?" There was no way the guard, who was unconscious on the floor, could hear him but that didn't stop Clint from saying it. Looking in the direction that Natasha went, seeing that the guards seemed to be giving her more of their attention he started firing into the group.

There was no way he could hit all of them but Natasha could easily take care of the people he couldn't get to. An arm wrapped around his throat and tried to throw him to the ground. Clint kicked his leg out and caught the man in the knee, breaking his leg and turning in time to watch him crumple. "Idiot." The gun in the holster of the guards hip was quickly removed and the bullets deposited in Clint's pocket. With a quick look he pushed himself off the rafters and took of to where Natasha was.