Clint remembered the night in Budapest when he'd made a different call. He'd seen the potential in her, seen that she didn't have to stay a cold-blooded killer. So he'd lowered his arrow, rather than letting it sink into her heart. Gave her a second chance, to rid her history of the crimson stains it wore for all to see and fear.
He also remembered the first few weeks when he'd taken Natasha into SHIELD.
As expected, she'd showed emotion to no one. Displayed no sense of trust, or care for others. Not even Clint himself could get her to see that she was safe, could be happy and that she didn't have to force metal walls over her emotions, it seemed. And as was also expected, she never lowered her glaring face to smile. Others would try to talk to her, try to joke with her if they were daring enough. Although everyone quickly found that she wasn't a friend to them, and so quite quickly did they decide it was best to avoid any form of communication with her. Natasha trained in silence, listened quietly, and the majority of conversations Clint attempted with her were mostly one-sided.
But as if her walls were established with glass rather than titanium, Clint saw right through her defenses.
Despite what many thought, she wasn't a ruthless beast with a lack of emotion. That's just what plated her actual thoughts. Clint saw the real her. She was guilty about her past and was striving desperately to redeem herself. And she could be hurt, despite popular belief. It just never showed in her body language. Agents who had the balls to, would insult her out of spite when she climbed up the ranks higher than them and she wouldn't flinch. They'd tell her she was a burden and then whisper that she'd be better off dead and she'd keep her chin up and scowl right back. Only Clint could see that she loathed herself, probably more than the ones whom insulted her.
He also noticed a certain quality of hers to try and stick around Clint as much as possible.
How poetic of him, a joking, bubbly person, to fall in love with the one person who was scarred inside and showed nothing but disinterest in everyone.
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One night, when Clint found that he couldn't sleep, he decided to head out and.. he wasn't too sure actually what to do. Maybe find a book to read? The rash part of his mind suggested waking Natasha, try to talk with her. He shoved that thought away as quickly as it came. Waking Natasha, or maybe any agent in the middle of night because he couldn't sleep was just around equivalent to signing a suicide contract.
Training room, he decided. He walked through the halls until he'd reached the training quarters of the facility and was quite startled as he passed by the glass walls to see Natasha there. In fact, not only Natasha, but another agent; Christian.
Christian was a mythic bitch. He took pleasure in insulting others and yet could wrack up a pile of friends the moment he strode haughtily past them. Clint always though he would do great as a high school jock.
And there he was, his ever so unpleasant expression lit over his face as he stood in front of Natasha, saying something to her stiff figure. Clint stopped to see how this ordeal would go. Natasha murmured something in reply to him, and Christian barked a laugh at whatever she'd said and if Clint read his lips correctly when he leaned in to Natasha's ear and whispered something back at her, he'd said, "..think your worth something? Darling, no one gives a rat's ass about you. And if you think your little archer friend could care about you, then i'm not certain you deserve your ranking."
As a million fazed emotions seemed to flow through Natasha's eyes, Clint's vision seemed to blur red. That bastard's snide comments had actually hurt her. And she never showed hurt on her face. Her features shifted to a one of anger(which she also never showed normally) and Clint read her lips as she replied, "Get your head out of your ass, Christian, and-" She broke off as one of Christian's fist came hurtling at her face.
She dodged the blow with mastered ease, and in a matter of seconds everything seemed to blur as she wrapped her hands around his wrist, twisted it sharply and took it as momentum to flip over and put Christian in a headlock. and suddenly Christian was lying flat on his back and Natasha stood over him with an expression that looked far too emotional for Clint's liking. With that, she heftily kicked Christian's head into the wall and he was unconscious.
Bristling, she started for the room's exit in a rushed pace and the moment she stepped into the Hallway Clint stood in was the moment Clint let himself into her viewpoint and she froze, stopping dead in the hallway. Clint opened his mouth to speak as he padded toward her. "Natasha, he-"
"Get out of my way, Barton." She snarled at him coldly.
Clint inhaled sharply and tried to speak again, "Natasha, he doesn't know what he's saying. His head is so far up his ass that he can't see how much better you are than most of the damn people in this place." He would've continued, could've, but the pained expression on Natasha's face told him to stop, and so he waited for her to speak. A moment of silence passed between the two before she spoke up, in a dangerously soft tone.
"Move." When Clint stood his ground, she repeated, much louder this time. "Move." Clint wondered if he imagined the way her voice wavered.
"Natasha. You should know you can talk to me. I'm always honest with you, and you deserve to know you shouldn't loathe yourself."
She actually looked away her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly, and Clint knew she knew that he could see what she really felt.
And suddenly words seemed to flow out of her mouth as she vented to him, "He- he has a point. Tell me Clint, who does care about me? Who doesn't think i'm a waste of air? In fact, I believe it myself. You should've murdered me, back in Budapest." Clint stared at her, feeling immensely shocked. He knew she'd felt that way, but so strongly? Before Clint could gather the words to even try to reassure her, she laughed bitterly. "Pretend all you want, but you probably feel that way too." Her voice wavered towards the end of the sentence and her eyes gleamed and Clint realized with a stab in his heart that she'd started crying.
Clint's blood seemed to heat as he swore to himself that he'd kill every bastard that had hurt her in the past.
"I care about you, Natasha." He stated bluntly, and when she sent him a heartbroken look that said so clearly that she didn't believe him, he felt that he could go on for hours how much of an understatement that was.
"Shut up!" she snarled at him and tears flowed freely down her reddened face. "Just shut the hell up with your lies.. your-your just another fucking liar..that's what you are..but I don't need you..I don't need ANYONE...love is for children..and..and..i h-hate you.. hate you all..and..." She broke off with a sob and covered her eyes with her hands.
Clint felt his heart tear into a million small pieces and with little thought, he wrapped his arms around her in an embrace, and the only action she did was flinch almost imperceptibly before leaning in to his embrace. She cried into his shoulder and her sobs rattled her body, and each time it just shredded Clint's heart even further. He rubbed her back comfortingly and murmured reassurances into her ear that she was cared about, was loved.
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It was that very week that Clint bought a thin silver necklace with the small shape of an arrow at its end. The next morning, when he saw that Natasha was awake, sitting on her bunk, he presented it to her with a hopeful smile. She studied his eyes, as if trying to see if this was just an elaborate trick to deceive her and hurt her. It seemed she decided it wasn't, as she, without a word, stared down at the necklace Clint had pressed into her hands and rose it to click it around her neck.
Her eyes actually looked a little wet, Clint thought, and if his heart hadn't burst with joy yet, it most certainly did when Natasha's face crinkled into a genuine smile and she unexpectedly wrapped her arms around Clint in an embrace, and whispered, "It's beautiful."
Clint, alight with joy as the assassin and super-spy grinned into his shoulder, laughed and hugged her back.
"I love you too, 'Tasha, I love you too."
That day was the day that a wonderful friendship, and dare they say something more, sprouted.
That was the day that they became immune to any glares sent their way.
That was the day they both decided mentally that they would protect one another 'till their last breaths.
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