I'll Keep You Safe If You Let Me

Chapter 1 - Finding Natasha

Summary: Clint Barton is injured rescuing a young woman on the run from human predators.

Clint hid his belongings in the camouflaged lean-to, slung his bow and quiver over his back and set out for the bait pile. It was dangerous to come out alone but he had a better chance of killing a deer without a chatterbox tagging along.

He cracked his neck, beads of sweat already gathering at the nape, dampening his gray t-shirt. And it was what? May or June?

It didn't matter.

What Clint Barton did know was that the warmer it got, the less inclined deer would be out and about. Seven others and a baby were counting on him to bring home something more than squirrel or owl.

He stuck by the banks, keeping alert and tagging certain landmarks for the way back.

Distant noises halted his step. Human, animal or other, it was hard to tell. All were equally as dangerous nowadays.

Clint climbed a large tree and took cover in the leaves. Something dashed behind a big bush but it was too fast to identify. He pulled an arrow from his quiver.

"I know you're out here!"

Shit, he'd been spotted. Clint held his breath. A husky figure clad in a camouflage vest and pants came into view.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..."

A tiny whimper from below made his ear perk up. He craned his neck, there was another person nearby.

Was this guy...?

He didn't finish the thought.

"Come on, girlie," the hunter racked his gun, "I ain't got all day. We gotta go."

The noise echoed in the quiet forest. Clint was right, this sleazebag was after another person.

Barton shook his head and searched for the intended target. A flash of red hair and long legs darted out between two trees towards the river. Half naked and obviously unarmed, this girl had no way to defend herself against a man twice her size.

The hunter fired in her direction but missed. The young woman ducked behind a log. Clint hoped she could get far enough away.

Readying a shot, he aimed and released.

"You better hope a biter gets to you first!"

Clint's target stumbled. The arrow hit the handle of the shotgun and bounced on the ground.

Looking up in complete shock, the man blindly fired again, swinging the gun from side to side. Clint dropped from the tree and rolled.

"Don't know who you are but the bitch is mine, get your own!"

Clint crouched and peered around.

Thunk. 

"What the fuck?" The guy slapped a hand to his face.

Blood dripped from his left eye. Who threw a rock?

Clint turned to look but was hit from behind and shoved into the dirt.

"Got 'em, Wade."

Dazed, Clint rolled over to find the barrel of Wade's shotgun in his face

"Who the fuck are you?"

The new guy held a bat. Clint had to think fast.

"Answer us, motherfucker. Where'd you come from?"

"Trees. I was hunting." Clint grunted, holding up one hand in peace and the back of his head with the other, pretending to be more injured than he was. "Sorry man, I thought you were being chased by those sick people."