Her Hidden Past

- Chapter Twenty Four -

"Clinton Francis Barton, you get back here, right now," Fury's angry voice came through Clint's headset.

With all due disrespect, Sir," Clint growled. "No." He'd been surprised he'd managed to get to the hanger and steal a quinjet before they'd noticed.

"Coulson, tell your disobedient agent to get back here," Fury snapped.

"Clint, what are you doing?" Phil's voice was softer.

"Fulfilling her wishes, taking her home."

"Clint, it's not a good time to be off base," Phil tried.

"Not sorry," Clint shrugged. "I have to do this for her." His voice broke as he looked over his shoulder to where he had placed Natasha on several blankets in the cargo bay. "I quit, Coulson. I can't stay with SHIELD without her."

"Clint, son, please," Phil sighed. "You can't leave, you'll be blacklisted and added to the kill on sight list. Come back, I'll speak to Fury, get him to give you time." He hesitated, "Come back where I know you're safe, son."

"I am not your son," Clint snapped before cutting the line. He'd already disabled all the trackers in the quinjet. He changed course, Coulson would work out where he was headed if he really wanted to find him.

Clint set the quinjet down gently in a field. Carefully picking up Natasha, blankets and all, he carried her through the field towards a row of trees. Walking under the shade of the twisted pines Clint smiled softly as his cabin came into view. The welcoming front porch reminded him of the good times they had spent together there. Clint carefully laid Natasha on the porch swing keeping the blankets wrapped around her. Unlocking the door he slipped inside checking the house for any sign of intruders. Taking a couple of extra blankets he headed back to the porch. Laying another over Natasha, he sat down on the top step, wrapping a couple of blankets around himself. He leaned his head back on the end of the railing, studying the stars and listening to the sounds of nature around him.

Clint was pulled back to reality by a large gasp for air. He was on alert as Natasha drew in several more deep breaths, listening for any sign she was struggling to breathe. He stayed perfectly still not wanting her to panic if she registered his presence.

"Tasha," he called softly, once her breathing settled.

"Clint?" Her voice was barely a whisper. She kept her eyes closed, "What's wrong?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Clint sighed, keeping his voice under control.

"Clint, we're at the cabin." When Clint refrained from replying, she opened her eyes, turning her head to study him. His lack of reply said everything she needed to know. "Clint?"

"How do you feel?" Clint closed his eyes, Listening for what she wouldn't say.

"I feel like I just woke up from a nap," Natasha replied softly. "What happened?"

"That's good," Clint nodded. "Have you got enough blankets, or do you want to go inside?"

"I'm fine right here," Natasha smiled softly. "It's so peaceful."

"I thought you'd prefer to wake up out here."

"Thank you, Clint," Natasha paused. "So do you want to tell me why we're here not back at base?"

"No."

Natasha didn't need to see the scowl on his face, "Later then. Phil and Fury know where we are?"

"Phil will figure it out."

It was Natasha's turn to frown, Clint always told Phil if they were headed to the cabin. Carefully rolling herself onto her side she clenched her teeth as pain shot through her. "Clint, what the hell happened?" She paused to catch her breath, "You always told Phil when we were coming here. Even the first time you brought me here when you were mad as hell that he didn't think it was a good idea."