My Weakness

26 weeks

Clint had been on four missions in five weeks, and Natasha was frankly getting sick of being alone. HYDRA cells were popping up all over the country, and the guys would take off to bust it up, leaving her back with Bruce, Pepper and Jane for a few days until they got back. She had hoped Clint would be able to stay home on a few of these missions because he was a new husband with a pregnant wife, but this was not to be. She tried to be understanding, recognizing that his skill set was far and away the most valuable on these missions - second only to hers. She was unavailable for the next few months, so it was essential that he go and do what he did best. But she missed him horrendously, and was a little appalled with herself for how much she missed him. She was reminding herself of any of the women in the romantic movies she’d seen or the one romance novel she’d read all those years ago. She detested the thought of being clingy or needy, but the long and short of it was that she found herself needing him and fighting the urge to cling to him when he left. The fear that something would happen to him was almost overpowering sometimes. She knew that he could take care of himself - he always had - but that worry was ever-present. What would she do without him?

Since she didn’t have him home much, she tried hard to make his time at home with her as pleasant as possible. Natasha put forth a real effort into being a housewife, since she couldn’t do anything else but dance. She learned to cook a few dishes and prepared them when he was home. She ran her fingers through his hair as he lay with his head in her lap and talked to her belly. They loved. She watched him shoot.

But then he was gone again, and she went back to missing him and worrying. She talked to her belly out of loneliness, telling it how brave her daddy was, how much her daddy loved her and how much she was going to love her daddy. Natasha told the baby how sorry she was that her mommy wasn’t the mommy she deserved, and that she hoped the baby would get enough love from daddy to make up for mommy being such a bad mommy.

~*~

“It won’t take long, I just need to tell Nat we're headed out and grab my bow.”

“Sounds like she’s down the hall.”

Clint stopped at his door and heard the music. “You’re right, Cap. Let's go down there, I’ll let her know then grab my stuff.”

“She sure likes the Dave Matthews Band, huh?”

Clint grinned, she was listening to ‘Crash Into Me’. “Yeah, when I first brought her back to S.H.I.E.L.D., that was one of the bands I brought her to listen to. She liked them a lot. Not my favorite, but…” He shrugged. “She likes them, so I get along with it.”

They got to the door of the studio and stopped. Clint put his arm out to Steve and pushed him back a couple of steps, to make them less visible.

Natasha was dancing, and he’d seen her dance many times over the past couple of months…but nothing like this. This was passionate. This was raw.

Lost for you, I'm so lost for you

She was twisting and curling herself in an incredibly sensual way - ways that he’d never seen her move unless they were in bed together. She wasn’t being indecent, just so - sexy.

When you come, crash into me, baby
and I come into you, in a boy’s dream

She wasn’t smiling as she usually did, her eyes were closed and her face was intensity. He felt his pants growing a little tighter.

Hike up your skirt a little more
and show the world to me

“Wow. She is incredible.”

Clint had completely forgotten Steve was there. He had to clench his fists by his sides to keep from punching him in the face for seeing his wife that way, the bastard. Instead he walked into the studio and called Natasha’s name, earning a smile. “Hey, Clint! Hi, Cap.” She kissed Clint and whispered in his ear. “That song you can read into.” She kissed his earlobe and his pants grew snug again. He jammed a hand in his pocket and she smirked.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We just came by to pick up Hawkeye’s bow. We’ve got to ship out to Seattle in two hours.”

She looked at Clint. “But you just got back yesterday.”

“I know, sweetheart. We don’t plan on being gone long. I’m going to try to take some time off when I get back. I swear.”

She schooled her features to look unconcerned, shut herself down. He recognized the signs and said, “Hey, Steve, give us a minute.”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you up top in an hour.”

He waited until Steve was gone, then pulled her close. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I don’t want to go. You know know I don’t.”

“Its fine. Go.”

“It’s not fine. I can tell. I know you, Natasha.”

“No, really, it’s okay.”

“Do you worry?”

She cut her eyes up at him. He cupped her face and bent down to kiss her softly. “You know its okay to have feelings, right? It’s always okay, at least with me. If you want to shut it down with everyone else, that’s fine. Please don’t shut them down with me.” He kissed her again. “I need to know how you feel. Knowing that you miss me, that you worry…It gets me through sometimes.”

She watched him for a minute, and he could see the debate behind her eyes. She was hiding behind her wall and didn't know whether to come out. He knew it, could see it, and knew that nobody else on this earth would know that about her. He did, though, and he loved it about her. He looked back into her eyes, trying hard to communicate to her - Trust me. I'll not let you fall.

After a while, she wrapped her arms around him. “Do you miss me when you’re gone?”

“All I can think about is getting home. It’s been like that for years.” He pulled back and kissed her, long and slow. “Please don’t shut down on me. Okay? I need to know how you feel about things, good bad or otherwise. I know it's not easy, but try.”

“I’ll miss you. I end up talking to my belly, and I don't sleep when you’re gone.”

“I’ll miss you, too. We’ll sleep when I get home. I promise to come home.”

~*~

30 weeks

Clint and Natasha had never argued much. They had always been the type of couple that either reached an agreement quickly, compromised, or one of them walked away until they cooled off and were ready to discuss the matter rationally, like adults. However, on the matter of naming their daughter, none of their typical rules of warfare seemed to apply.

"I told you, Clint, I don't want to name her a Russian name! I left that world behind me!"

"Fine! What do you propose, then?"

"How about Madison?"

He groaned. "God, Nat. It's so overdone. What about after my great aunt?"

"I don't care if it's a family name, we're not naming our daughter Dorothy."

"Whatever. How about Haley?"

"I don't like it."

"Why the hell not?"

"I just don't. I don't need a reason for not liking something."

And so it went, the argument they had at least once a day, always ending with one or the other storming off swearing under their breath in English or Russian.

The nursery, however, brought up an entirely different argument neither of them were expecting. Natasha wanted to put the baby in the biggest spare bedroom, Clint wanted her in the nearest bedroom to theirs. Clint pointed out that when she woke in the middle of the night, it would make more sense to have her closer. He also said that she would be in their room in a bassinet for the first couple of months anyway, so it really didn't matter what room she was in right away. Natasha raised an eyebrow at this. "I don't remember agreeing to put her in our bedroom. What's wrong with having her in her crib down the hall?"

"Nat, she's going to be waking up every couple of hours to eat for a while. It's going to be so much easier to have her right on hand so you can nurse her."

"Oh, and you decide unilaterally that I'm breast feeding, too?"

Clint took a deep breath. "No. We talked about this. You said you wanted to."

"That puts the responsibility for her care entirely on me. Clint. That's bullshit."

"What the fuck, Natasha. You think feeding her is all there is to it? Do you honestly think I'm going to be watching TV or sleeping or scratching my balls while you change all the diapers and rock her to sleep and give her baths and all that stuff? Do you really think that?"

"What else have you decided, Clint? Her name? Her nursery colors? What schools she'll go to? You know what, I don't even care, you do whatever the fuck you want. I’m just a vessel to get her here.”

"I'm not doing this with you." He turned to leave.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"I'm walking away before I say something we'll both regret."

"Like you're the one who wanted this baby but now I'm stuck with it and you're scot-free?"

"Exactly like that, Natasha, yes. Thank you."

~*~

Natasha waited up for him that night, but he never came to her. She went to bed thinking he would come to her and they would talk, but he never came. She sat in bed all night, imagining all sorts of things, twirling her engagement ring on her finger, wondering what her husband had gotten up to.

Finally, at 4am, she caved. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Do you happen to know where Clint is?"

"Mr. Barton is in the downstairs apartment. He has left instructions that he is not to be disturbed except in case of dire emergency."

"How long has he been there?"

"Mr. Barton retired to the apartment at approximately 9pm yesterday."

Her heart fluttered. "Was he alone?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Any visitors?"

"No ma'am."

"Thank you, Jarvis."

She rolled over in her bed, alone and cold despite the warm weather. He'd never been so angry he'd stayed away from her this long deliberately. He'd always come to her. She didn't know how to process this.

She fell asleep trying to make sense of her thoughts, feelings and her husband.

~*~

She didn't see him at all the next day. She couldn't find him any of the places she would normally expect to find him, and was becoming really troubled. She texted him: "are you ok? I miss you". His reply was short and curt: "I'm fine. See you soon."

He didn't turn up at dinner, and she waited up for him before she went to bed. He never came.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Where is my husband?"

"He's in the downstairs apartment."

"Alone?"

"Yes ma'am."

She turned over and tried to sleep, but ended up crying instead.

~*~

She had a meeting with Pepper the following morning to discuss the nursery and shower, and Natasha couldn't have cared less about either of those things. But she was trying to be a good sport and go along.

Pepper pulled Jane out of the lab and brought her along, and the three of them talked about color samples, themes, decorations. Pepper asked which room would be the nursery and Natasha showed them to the bedroom next to hers and Clint's - the one Clint had wanted. While in there, Pepper pulled out books of fabric samples, magazines with bedding sets, furniture catalogs, and laid them everywhere.

Natasha heard him come in and call for her - "Natasha? Where are you?"

She called back, "in the nursery," and waited for him to come. She watched his face carefully as he took in the scene of Pepper and Jane planning a nursery in the room he had wanted. He looked at everything they were doing and then looked at her, almost questioningly: she offered a small smile in response. "Will you be home for dinner tonight?"

"I can be."

"I'd like that."

"No problem. You ladies have fun." He turned to walk away.

She opened her mouth to call out, but he cut her off. "I almost forgot." He stepped close and kissed her very softly, very chastely, then whispered, "I love you. Talk tonight."

~*~

Clint was three hours early for dinner, but he was anxious to talk to her. He'd brought Indian takeout and a single rose. Clint had been to three florists before he'd found that rose, but he needed a peace offering. Two days of being hurt and angry was too much. They had to make peace. He smiled a little, thinking, hopefully with some makeup sex involved.

He heard piano music coming from her studio as he got off the elevator, and set out that way. He wanted to make peace sooner rather than later, and presenting her with the rose and luring her with the food seemed like a good idea.

He heard the song and froze.

Can't you see, it's not me you're dying for
Now she's feeling more alone
Than she ever has before

Clint stood there, stunned.

She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly
Off the coast and I'm headed nowhere

She had always told him not to read too much into the music she danced to, but a song about abortion? The pregnant woman being a dead weight?

as weeks went by, it showed that she was not fine

“No. Oh, Natasha…No…” He stepped around the corner to confront her about it.

She was spinning, bringing her arms in on herself. Her eyes were red, and he could see her cheeks shining with tears.

and she broke down, and I broke down
Cause I was tired of lying

Natasha collapsed gracefully into a ball on the ground, sobbing.

Clint threw the bags and rose to the ground, running to her. "Jarvis, stop music." He reached her, and she clutched to him. "Tell me, Natasha. Tell me what's wrong."

She just sobbed and clung to him. "You're not a brick, my sweetheart. You're everything to me. I love you so much. Do you understand? You're not a brick. You keep me afloat." He held her, afraid for her, fighting his own internal battle, and they waited on each other.

Natasha spoke. "I don't love this baby, Clint. I don't love her and I'm afraid I never will. I don't love anyone but you."

Clint settled into a more comfortable position and almost cried with relief. He pulled her tighter and said, "Just love me, then. The rest will happen naturally."

"But I resent her. I'm angry at her. She's stealing from me."

"Stealing what?"

"My health. My beauty. My job. The things I like to do. She's stealing you from me. She's taking everything from me, and I resent her. I don't want to do all this frou frou shit, like picking out nursery colors and bouncers and cribs and bedding and that shit. It's not me."

"You're not going to hurt her, are you?"

"No."

“Ok. Then the rest of it doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. It matters to you, it matters to Pepper. The baby has to have these things - a crib and bouncer and bassinet and all of that. And I know that she should have the best of everything. We have the means to give her the best of the best. I just can’t bring myself to care. I'm a monster.”

“You’re not a monster. Lots of women feel this way, especially when they didn’t ask to be pregnant and have a baby and not be able to work. But you’re ten weeks from having this baby, and then you can get back to work just a few weeks after that. You’re in the home stretch, Nat. You can do this.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“What? Be pregnant or be a mother?”

“Definitely not be pregnant. Right now, I don’t want to be a mother, either. I think we made a mistake, Clint.”

“I don't think so, sweetheart. I think we did the right thing, and I promise you that you'll feel the same way soon.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Have I ever lied to you, Natasha? Have I ever broken a promise to you? Have I ever vowed something to you and fucked it up?”

“No.”

“This is a vow as solemn as my wedding vow. Very soon, you’re going to see that we did the right thing. You’re going to love her and be grateful we kept her. Please trust me.”

She looked at him doubtfully, then lowered her head. “I’ve thought a thousand times about talking to you about giving her up for adoption or something. But deep down, I know somewhere that I'll love her, at least some. I know I will.” She looked up at him. “She’s part of you.” He pulled her close again. “I just don't care right now. I can’t. I’ve tried.”

He kissed her hair and thought for a minute. “I’ll make you a deal, Natasha."

"What's that?"

"You trust me?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Put up a good show for our friends at the baby shower, and do what you have to do to get the baby here safely. I'm going to talk to Pepper about this - only Pepper - and tell her to take over the buying and decorating. Just have her take it out of your hands. If she has a question about something, if she wants approval of something, she can bring it to me. You don't have to do anything but follow the doctor's orders and pretend to be happy at the baby shower, okay?”

“I’m not unhappy Clint, I just don’t feel attached to the baby. It feels like something that’s happening to me that’s neutral. I feel like I’ll get excited when it’s time.”

“Maybe if you were around a baby?”

“Maybe.”

“What do you think about my Pepper plan?”

“What happens if I want to be involved? I don’t want Pepper picking her name.”

“You say the word, and you’re as involved as you want to be. You and I will pick her name together.” He smiled. “We’ll agree on something at some point.”

“We’ve never fought so much in our lives as in the last six months.”

“Its okay, sweetheart. I've never loved you so much, either.”

"I feel so unnatural, Clint."

"You haven't had a natural life, Tasha. But feeling detached from a baby you can't see, didn't plan on, and didn't want isn't unusual. You're not alone in these feelings."

“Am I ever going to love her like you love her?”

"Yes. You will love her so much you can't stand it."

"I can't imagine it."

"You already do love her, although you don't realize it. You acknowledge her as a person, and as a part of each of us. If you didn't, you wouldn't be feeling guilt over this. You wouldn’t talk to her. You just wouldn't care. Just trust me, sweetheart."

"I trust you.”