bakerstreet | (no subject)

She smiled softly, faintly, at the kiss, her body molding itself against his side like she’d done many times before, one leg hiked over his, her head resting against his chest. She contemplated the question, memories she kept hidden bubbling to the surface. She lived with a lot of guilt and regret, but she never made excuses for the things she had done. She had been controlled as well, brainwashed, trained and programmed until she was the perfect killing machine, but she had still been able to think for herself, unlike Clint when Loki had him. She had been able to break free of the Red Room, to strike out on her own, and when Clint had given her the choice she had chosen to go with him.

“Yes,” Natasha admitted quietly. Once SHIELD had gotten hold of her they had removed blocks in her mind she hadn’t known were there, revealed memories that had been locked away. It might have driven a weaker person mad. “For a long time there was the feeling that they would come back, that they would somehow flip a switch and make me their puppet again.” The nightmares had been bad then, but as time went on they grew less frequent.

He'd admit it a hundred and one times just how much he enjoyed her company in this caliber. Considering her leg was wrapped around his as if she was really anchoring him down. It was welcomed, because he often wondered if these lingering thoughts of Loki were making him float away.

The silence was so loud in his ears and he half wondered if he'd made a clinical error in asking her. He'd been the one to bring her in, he'd been the one to show her his trust by having her at his back, but they'd never fell into a discussion about her past because Clint figured he didn't have a right to know and if she ever felt he did she'd be the one to start the conversation.

But he needed this, he needed to know if it was easier then he thought it was, if he was the one clinging onto the shadow or if the shadow was really still clinging onto him. He stroked fingers over her arm, along the faint line of a scar he could make out in the dark. "I need to get a handle on this, don't need Fury taking me off the roster." His wings were already bent out of shape, he didn't need tethering to the ground, he'd already done a good enough job of constantly beating himself up about all the blood he'd caused to spill.

"I'll get better," It was an unspoken promise.

As much as she’d prefer to forget her past, to never talk about it, Natasha knew he needed this. He needed to know that he wasn’t alone, that she understood what he was going through, not just because she thought she did but because she had lived it too. If he needed her too, if it would make it better for him, she would lay her soul bare for him. Only him.

She raised her head to look at him after his proclamation. She didn’t want him off the roster either, he was her partner and while they had their own missions at times when it came to working with others it was never the same without him. With anyone else it always felt off; they were always a second later than they should be, a fraction of an inch off the mark; worst of all they couldn’t read her like he did, the didn’t have the same way of silently communicating that made the two of them the best team the SHIELD had. She didn’t want to lose him as her partner, nor in any other capacity.

“I did,” she said, watching him. “It took time, a lot more than you ever saw, but I got past it and so will you. And I will be here with you, every step of the way.”

Clint couldn't work with anybody else, not really. They didn't understand him, didn't get his mannerisms or his sarcastic humor when the going got rough. His one-liners were lost on other agents. Natasha was the only one who got him, the only one who'd wound up under his skin in a way only she could. An addiction, he'd figure it was. He needed her to guide him, to be the left hand to his right, to have his back as he had hers, to unwind, to stay alive for. He had nothing else.

"You're stronger than me, to live through what you have. I have a few days of being pushed out of my own body and I fall apart. You had years of it yet look at you. You shine like a beacon, you're beauty, strength and trust all rolled into one." Clint sighed, hand leaving her arm to rub along his brow, smoothing out the creases for a second.

She was his focus point, he needed that reminder and with their position she was currently giving him something to hold onto, literally and figuratively. When he got so dependant he wasn't sure, it was a dangerous situation but it worked for him.

Clint’s words affected her more than she expected, but then she hadn’t expected the words either. Her expression was as indescribable as the emotions she was feeling; gratitude, disbelief, and that overwhelming swell of love. She had given up trying to deny it to herself even if she never admitted it to him or anyone else. She had loved in her past, when she had been so young, and both times her heart ha been left broken. After that she had decided she would never let herself be that weak again, never let another into her heart, but somehow over the years Clint Barton had weaseled his way in there without her even knowing until it was far too late. It had taken almost losing him to realise she couldn’t hide from it anymore.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, leaning up to place a kiss against his jaw. “It’s all because of you,” she continued. It was truth, he had given her a second chance and it was because of that that she was able to shake off what was done to her and discover who she really was. “Everything I am. I would be nothing if not for you.”

It was the most honest she had ever been about it, but she felt he deserved to hear it, maybe even needed to right now.

He managed a more convincing smile. It was gone, that feeling of dread, that blue hued tint. Instead he was drowning in red probably because he'd nuzzled his face into her hair, but red he figured was better than the cold sting of cyan.

"You'll make me swoon if you carry on." Barton was back to cracking jokes that really weren't funny to anyone but him in his own mind, but it was a step closer to the safety net and away from the danger zone.

"I'll be alright, have to be, someones got to watch your ass."

It was strange this sudden realization of feeling like he had something stable in his life, a rock he could hold onto in a sea of crashing waves. When everything else is stripped from him he knows Natasha will always be there. Gratitude doesn't even cover it. He'll give her his trust, his companionship, his soul. Fuck, he'd give her the stars, the moon and everything else up there if he had that power.

He tugged her closer into his dishelved mess of a nest and hands were already reaching to bundle the sheets, to repair the damage he'd done and when he'd finally finished he was content with himself to press lips to the corner of her mouth, wrapping an arm around her back and holding her close.

Natasha smiled at the joke, feeling the last shreds of anxiety fading. She knew it wasn’t permanent, that the spells would continue, but for now he was back to himself again.

“I know how much you enjoy that job,” she said, pressing her body a little harder against his with a grin. “I would hate to see you deprived of it.”

Letting Clint pull her closer, she lay still while he adjusted the sheets until he had them to his liking. By the time he was done she was practically on top of him, not that she was complaining at all. Tucking her head under his chin, she snuggled into the warmth and comfort he provided.

Wrapping her up was easy, limbs seemed to move on their own accord to bring her closer by any means possible. Whether it was arms curling around her waist, or the fact he moved his legs and positioned them in a way that allowed her to slot into him.

Everything came easy with her.

He lent his chin on her head, stroked a hand up and down her back even though she wasn't the one who needed calming in any way. The gesture was still there because it was comforting for him as well.

"Watching your ass is probably the best job Shield has to offer, I'm surprised people aren't jumping at the chance to take over my role." Not that he'd let them, it was hard enough watching her work let alone not being the one to cover her.

Natasha closed her eyes and relished in the moment. His body warm and solid beneath her, his hand moving comfortingly over her back, his voice back to that familiar carefree tone she had come to associate with him, all the while knowing his mind was far from free of cares. Even the familiar smell of him only partially hidden beneath the sweat was a reminder, and she breathed him in as she ran her hand up his chest and over his shoulder.

“How do you know they’re not?” she queried, putting on a serious mask. “Maybe I just keep turning them down.”

Completely untrue. None of the other agents would dare approach her with such a proposition. Only if Fury ordered her to work with someone else would she, but only after much protesting, and even then it wouldn’t be pleasant for her new partner. It would be the shortest partnership ever.

His muscles flexed at the touch of her hand. He felt dirty and awkward but the skin on skin touch was a reminder and helped to put his feet back on the ground. He wouldn't float away, he'd always be safe as long as Natasha was there with him.

"Because you'd tell me, and I'd have made use of my boomerang arrows."

His finger ran over the notches of her spin, one at a time, carefully counting the ridges under his skin. "Don't tell Fury, about this," Clint murmered, "He doesn't need to know, right?"

Natasha laughed lightly at his reply. His wide array of trick arrows never ceased to amuse her, but the boomerang one had to be the most amusing of all. Only Clint Barton would ever request such a thing.

“You are just itching for an excuse to use those, aren’t you?” She teased.

Shivering involuntarily as his fingers moved slowly down her spine, she raised her head to look at him following his question. “You really need to ask?” Directory Fury was their superior, but that didn’t mean that either of them went running to him with any bit of information he may think he should know. Through this whole ordeal Natasha had been a staunch supporter of Clint’s. In the beginning, when he had clearly been affected, she hadn’t lied for him, it would have been suspicious, but as he got better and showed no outward signs of any lingering affects she had his back and claimed him recovered. Only the two of them knew the truth, and on nights like these they dealt with it together. “As far as Fury is concerned you are 100% back to how you were before, no lingering issues.”

"Hey, they're boomerangs, they're handy okay" Clint half wondered just why he had to defend them, and why nobody else had actually realised the beauty in an arrow that came back to you.

He caught her gaze, held it with a small smile twitching his lips. This was supposed to be a serious conversation, but she always had the habit in making him smile even when she didn't mean to. "No, I just wanted to double check." He didn't want to be cut off, if Fury knew he was still potentially a liability he'd be off active duty and locked up someplace he didn't want to be. Natasha would be forced to work with somebody else or on some stupid solo mission with nobody watching her back and Clint would just be miserable.

"Double edged sword, we shouldn't lie to him, I could be a liability, but I don't want us to be seperated." He wouldn't be able to cope without her weight beside him, not now, not when all he needed was her to take his mind away from Loki and make him feel like himself again.

“Maybe I should start training with boomerangs rather than guns. I would never have to worry about running out of ammo,” she mused playfully.

After everything that happened, it lightened her heart to see his smile especially considering the conversation. She would be worried if he were too serious.

“I know, but some things are worth the risk,” Natasha said quietly. “I’ll watch your back and keep you in line. If they even tried to stick me with another partner I would eat the poor man alive. So really, it is in Fury’s best interest to keep us together.” The last thing she wanted was to be separated from him either. She would be in a constant state of worry; what if he awoke one night and she wasn’t there to bring him back down? Maybe they should tell Fury, but not now.

"Now you get the picture, they always come back to you, no matter what." Didn't matter if he ran out of arrows that way, not with the boomerangs.

To know he was worth her risking everything was something he couldn't grasp. She'd been on their radar in the worst ways at one point, she'd had to face years of people not trusting her with only Clint's voice to assure them. Now the tables had turned and he was the one who would recieve odd looks.

He lent forward, into an awkward position and firmly pressed lips to hers, stealing a quick kiss because really, he couldn't actually formulate anything that would describe how much her words, hell, just her in general meant.

"Just need to get rid of him for good. It might take time, or it might be really easy and I'm just missing the point. Doesn't matter, I'll work it out." With Coulson gone Clint only had her as his confident now. Without her, with just Fury's gaze Clint would rebel. It was his nature. "Glad to know you'll be there though, because I need you, I really do."

For a moment Natasha wondered if he was using ‘boomerangs’ as a metaphor, the way they always found their way back to each other, but she quickly brushed it off. This was Clint, he wasn’t big on metaphors and most likely meant it just exactly as it sounded; he was merely talking about boomerangs.

Closing her eyes at the brief kiss, Natasha smiled again as she rested her chin on his chest. Sometimes they didn’t need words.

“Get rid of him for good?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s very ominous sounding, Barton.” She didn’t get to press him further, though, because he said something that, were she one of those mushy women who read romance novels, she might have describes as making her heart melt.

He needed her.

Plenty of people in her life had wanted her, even more just wanted to use her, but nobody had ever needed her before, no one had ever needed her, demons and red ledger and all. “Just try getting rid of me,” she said, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin before snuggling closer, if that was at all possible.

Maybe he had meant it as a metaphore for the pair of them. It was partially true considering everything they'd been through together and seperate and yet they were still side by side going stronge. They'd always manage to find their way back to each other, because continents, oceans and poles couldn't stand in their way.

That's at least how he liked to look at things.

He laughed softly, a deep chuckle in the back of his throat. "What? I never did get to put that arrow in his eye socket, I'm still not over that." A missed oppertunity.

"I'll pass on that oppertunity. I kinda like keeping you around." He grinned, wrapping arms tighter around her. "Let's try and get some more sleep huh.. I promise not to go weird on you again."

“No, I suppose you didn’t, but you did get to blow him out of the sky,” Natasha replied, glad to hear him chuckle and able to joke about it. She knew it didn’t mean he was over it, she wasn’t certain he would ever be, but he was at least on the mend.

“Well good, because I kind of like being around.” Settling back into his embrace, she lay her head down against his chest again, listening to the sound of his heartbeat against her ear. “Okay... but I promise to be here if you do.”

Turning her head just enough to place a soft kiss against his chest, she closed her eyes and relaxed into his warmth. She might get more sleep that night, but she would wait until he had drifted off first before allowing herself that luxury.

"That's true, damn what a shot" The memory was nearly enough to have him grinning, instead he only managed a small smile. Should have used the boomerang really, but still..

"Couldn't do anything without you anyway, I'd be totally lost without you and your heavy arsenal by my side" Clint prodded her spine softly, resting his hand on the small of her back as she settled and he became complacent enough to relax back into the promise of sleep.

Of course she had that promise of her own and it was more than enough to make him smile sleepily at her, along with the kiss to his chest and the way she lay draped over him listening to his heart. The was always an ulterior motive and he knew she would listen for any changes in his breathing, it was how she worked, subtle things that went unnoticed by so many people, but things Clint had learnt over time to pick up on.

He let himself drift off, thankfull she was close enough to keep the blue away for the rest of the night until the heavy roll of morning pressed against the blinds and he blinked the light away to let his vision settle. There was no blue clouding his eyes, just fiery red curls blocking his gaze. Clint smiled to himself because really, he'd had a wobble yet he'd gone the rest of the night with no shadow clinging in his mind, with Natasha wrapped around him like a second skin and hell, he was still alive and breathing so he could certainly count the night as working to his advantage.