Soup Peace
Clint blinks and then the guy, Winter is in front of him with a goddamn kitchen knife.
He reacts, tackling him to the ground and breaking the fragile wooden table with their combined weight.
“Are you laughing?” Clint asks wide eyed. Okay, to be fair he isn’t but a small smile in him could be like laughing.
Winter guy is fucking nuts.
“You are not incompetent” it’s all he says looking pleased, letting go of his arm.
Clint sighs at the mess they made “man, I made you soup. You betrayed the soup peace”
“You won’t be easy to kill” the guy mutters not bothered by the hot soup on their clothes, but his eyes are clear and not murder-y for once. And Clint takes the battles he can win, but actually no.
He doesn’t. Never learned how.
__
Clint doesn’t know when he adopted an assassin. Another one. He has the feeling Nat is not going to like it.
“Flip the knife the other way, otherwise you will cut yourself” Winter says and then moves to press against him to correct his posture.
Clint is fucking crazy for letting it happen. But he does. And if is knife skills are way better than before thats between him and him only.
“Why did you let me leave?” Clint sips on the new soup, the knives in front of them for easy reach “I mean, you could have snapped me like a twig then” and if Clint was being honest with himself, so could he now.
Winter looks at him “you came back for your cat”
“What?” Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t that.
“It made me feel” he frowns, holding the spoon in front of him like it helped him think “strange”
“Strange how?”
But Winter furrows his eyebrows, thinking “welcome”
“Welcome” Clint repeats dumbfounded. He somehow sliced the guy’s forehead with a knife, shot at him with military grade arrows but none of that doesn’t seem to guarantee a bullet to the knee now. Not even a little stab wound “How’s that you remember me?”
Winter closes his eyes “Its easier to remember the longer the mission is. The shape of things, the smells, you reminded me of here” and he touches his forehead.
“Not many people get close enough to hurt me”
“I’m sorry about that” and then he remembers the fucking arrows through their shoulder “about hurting you, I mean”
Winter shakes his head “you healed me, even when didn’t have to. No one has done that before”
And Clint spoon freezes on its way to his mouth. He can feel the shape of the words before spilling them.
The wrong set of words.
“Why don’t you just leave? I can help you, I-“ he flutters his hands, trying to encompass his words “just you and m-“
“You can’t” Winter words seem final.
“But-“
“when you fail, they won't just kill you. They’ll erase you” he stands from the floor to the only room.
Erase someone. Wasn’t that what Natasha used to say.
They unmake you. Rearrange your insides, get rid of what doesn’t fit.
And Clint is starting to think something terrible happened to him. The food turns to ash on his mouth so he leaves it, decided to apologize for being stupid.
But just as he goes to the room. He find that Winter is gone.
__
It’s not until three weeks later when he catches sight of a silver wrist in a flee market. Clint heart jumps as he scrambles headfirst into the crowd.
He has been looking for him, refusing to go back to the states where it’s safe. But Coulson must trust him, because he extends his stay for recon.
Clint surveys the area quickly. Until his eyes fall onto an ancient staircase. Bingo. Most people wouldn’t notice someone hunched over a building, prying from afar. But Clint is not most people, he catches the barely there glint where the glove doesn’t cover the space between the wrist and the jacket.
Clint bites his lip. This is incredible stupid of him.
“Fuck” he whispers, before he flashes a small mirror at his position and moves. He’s not stupid enough to be a sitting duck.
God knows Winter almost stabbed him last time.
So he runs, takes different exits, mentally mapping the place. Hoping Winter is good enough to follow. Clint stops outside a pizza store, almost an hour has passed, when he starts to have doubts of his plan.
“damn it” Clint mutters, when the only flashes of metal he catches are jewelry. Going empty handed sits oddly with him.
He’s a ghost Natasha’s voice says I doubt you will ever cross paths with him again.
He almost jumps out of his skin when he feels a gloved hand rest warmly on his nape.
“I thought it might be you” Clint says as he is guided deeper into the boroughs.
—
If the nondescript flat is reassuring. The absence of plastic coverings is more than reassuring.
“Why are you here?” Winter’s voice is low enough, Clint strains to hear him. But he must take too long because then he’s being pushed inside.
He trips, almost falling to his ass when a metal hand catches him.
“Why are you still here?” Clint retorts, raising his eyebrows “Also, do you remember me? Nice”
Winter glares at him, like Clint is stubborn and maybe a little dumb. Like he doesn’t weight anything at all.
“They forgot to wipe me” Right.
There’s no much Clint can do except stare in silent horror.
“Why are you here then?”
“training” Winter bites his lip. Clint follows the notion, totally unprepared when Winter fucking drops him. Rude. “you could have been caught”
No, I wouldn’t Clint thinks, you barely caught me and you are good.
Too good for them.
The door closes behind them with a quiet click.
“Why did you follow me then?” Clint asks but relents when he sees the panicked look on Winter’s face.
“Look, no one knows I’m here” he clarifies, standing up.
“Good” Winter says, glancing at him anxiously “No one should know you are here” and its odd, having him so close.
“Also. I just wanted to check up on you” he adds, because he can’t stop himself. Because there was something about him, about this stranger that has managed to turn his life upside down.
And if he could help Nat, why can’t he-
“Clint” Winter derails his internal debate “I don’t need your help”
Clint swallows the grim disappointment and puts on a brave face. He won't lead him away again “So how you feel about a friendly visit”
Winter holds his gaze, examining him until he finally relents “there’s whiskey under the cupboards”
And Clint can finally let go of the breath he had been holding.
“I knew you would come around” Clint wiggles his eyebrows as Winter sighs.
So they start to drink. He doesn’t know what prompted this small party with the two of them holed up in this fucked up liminal place without backup from either side.
Probably his own dumb luck to start with. But it feels like a stalemate.
“So, thank you for the knife tips from last time” he scratches his head “and also for not shooting at me on sight”
Winter pauses before talking “the mirror caught me of guard. You’re good at blending in”
“yeah, but you are better. Don’t you?”
Winter smiles, indulging him “sure, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t good”. And Clint can’t stop staring at him, because Winter will go and forget. And he has to live through it.
“Is this a truce?” He asks, when his cup is refilled with yet another cheap whiskey from under the cupboards.
“I won’t remember you next time” Winter says, a small quirk of his mouth barely there. Clint can’t tell if it is sad or not. It fucks him up, that's for sure.
“It doesn’t matter what I do”
“It should” says Clint but it’s in vain and they both know it. Some things just are, Clint knows, doesn’t matter if its not fair.
Maybe it never really is. Life he means.
Winter drinks another bottle. He wonders if it does anything for him by the way the bottles disappear, but he seems a little looser around the edges.
Barely tipsy from four bottles. Hell. He would probably black out drinking the same amount. Which probably explains the way he can’t stop himself from catching Winter’s eyes from under his eyelashes.
His piercing eyes are so pretty.
His stomach swoops and he looks away “Sorry, I probably should-" get some sleep, go the fuck back to the states but he doesn’t say neither.
He can’t, trapped in his gaze Clint looks down at his lips. Blushing when Winter notices. Fuck. He’s being stupid.
Winter blinks, his eyes shining as he gets closer to him, one breath apart as he speaks “I want-” he says like its is a confession “do you?” He asks.
“Yeah” Clint says because there’s something there. In Winter’s eyes, that he understands. So he leans in, skydiving into a fucking disaster. And because one more reckless thing won’t hopefully kill him.
He kisses him, barely a press of lips but Winter stays motionless until Clint breaks apart.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry I thought-”
But Winter touches his lips with his human hand and smiles shyly. “No, do that again”
Clint closes the distance “is this ok-“ and then Winter grabs him, kissing him like he’s starving. Holy shit.
He finds himself flat on his back, with Winter looming over him.
“Bed” Clint gasps, as Winter kisses the underside of his jaw gently. ”I mean we should-“ and Winter opens his eyes and nods, carrying him with ease to the room.
His stomach flutters, that easy display of strength turning him on even further. “Think you can-“ he almost swallows his tongue just thinking about it “can you repeat that-“
He sees the sly grin soldier throws at him.
“I can hold your whole weight in one arm, yes”
This is gonna break his heart to pieces, Clint can already tell but he swallows it down like he does with everything else “lead the way then”
__
Clint entire body aches pleasantly, nuzzling his head toward the source of heat in his sleep.
You stayed is on the tip of his tongue but just as he opens his mouth his nose itches. He opens one eye and the small spark of hope that no one, not even Clint expected to live there aches as his goddamn cat nuzzles the pillow right next to him.
He blinks again, confused and hurt “How the fuck did you get in?”
Macy mews loudly, sprawling her small body on the mattress as Natasha steps out of the shadows “this is a hydra warehouse”
Ah damn it. “I got kidnapped” he blurts out. He is fucking lying to Natasha and she probably knows but hell. Damn it if he starts venting here and cries.
Natasha gives him a sharp glance and places the drive he stole from that clusterfuck on the table.
“It was a copy after all” she says “Coulson is pissed with IT”
“Fuck” did it really took that long to decrypt it? and he starts to dress quickly “how did you find me?”
“Coulson” Yeah, because asking for more time for a fucked up mission wasn’t suspicious at all. Clint sighs.
“Is it him?” Natasha asks, a hard edge to her voice.
He stops, and it gives him away immediately. But maybe he thinks, Nat would understand “Yeah, its him”
“The soldier is not what you think Clint” Natasha says harsh, but her eyes softens when he flinches.
She pulls her shirt away.
“Nat-“ he starts covering his eyes in case he’s not meant to see.
“Idiot” she says moving his hands away “look at me” and then he sees the scar in her stomach.
Natasha turns giving him her back and Clint is hit with the realization that Nat really trusts him. He owes her.
He owes her everything.
“In and out” he says barely touching the edge of the exit wound.
Natasha turns to face him, cupping his face in her hands. A glimpse of sadness in her voice “he didn’t hesitate Clint”
I didn’t either Clint thinks, remembering the knife slicing Winter. And the sudden force of his blue eyes, surprised.
No one gets close enough to hurt me.
“I’m sorry” Clint swallows and Nat traces the apology on his throat, before letting her hands drop at her side.
“get dressed" Natasha stops at the door "I will wait for you in the car”
-
“Are you inmortal or something” he asks Macy, and she mews back at him.
The Shield warehouse back at the states is a cold reminder of the shit he got himself into. Again.
Natasha sits and Macy the traitor purrs at her, showing her tummy to scratch.
“How old is she?”
“Oh man” he scratches his head “I stole her from Coulson when we met”
Natasha smiles faintly “That’s something”
“so, maybe she is inmortal” Clint whispers at Macy. The cat just blinks at him.
He loses himself petting Macy and doesn’t notice Natasha’s look. The look she has been giving him since she found him back at the Hydra warehouse.
“do you trust me Clint?” Natasha asks after a while.
“with my life Nat” he answers, his stomach drops at the admission. But it’s Nat, there is no one like her in the entire planet he could trust more.
“I knew him” her eyes fall in a shadow “personally, I mean”
“and he will never be free Clint, he forgets he can”
“aren’t you free now?” he asks her and a glint of real hurt passes through her eyes.
“I’m never free from them”
Clint takes her hands “Nat” he whispers touching her forehead with his.
“I’m not” Nat replies, her voice nearly silent.
“we all do things we regret Nat, but you never had a choice”
Natasha smiles sadly and Clint sighs, grabbing at her hands to guide them to his stomach, under his shirt. Natasha eyes widen as she feels the shape of the scar.
“we all make choices Nat”
-
8 years and one week ago
“So, I might have an idea” Clint says, watching as Winter flips his glinting knife in the air.
“Mark something on me, so if you don’t remember I can show you”
He knife stops spinning in the air “I don’t want to hurt you”
“Its only fair” Clint nods at the scarring his arrow left behind. To be fair the thin white scar is barely noticeable but Clint remembers.
Winter pauses, his metal arm shuddering his scales.
“just- don’t gut me” he adds as an afterthought.
Winter eyes are clear, flickering down on his body “What should I draw?”
Clint smiles in victory “What do I remind you of?”
“I can think of something” and his eyes glint with amusement as he traces his stomach.