Clintasha: Civil War

Part 1

Clint and Natasha confront each other in the midsts of civil war. Clint fighting for Captain America because he can't let his family be in danger, and revealing his identity to the government would do just that. Natasha fighting for Iron Man because she's seen the power people like them had, and the destruction they could cause if they aren't controlled. They never wanted it to end up like this, but the moment they chose different sides this confrontation became inevitable.

Both sides were beyond talking it out, but with every punch Natasha threw regret filled her as she remembered the last time they had fought. The last time she had to fight against someone with nearly identical skill level as her, it was to save his life. To bring him back, to save her best friend. With every arrow he tried to shoot, there was a sad gleam of hesitation in his grey blue eye. They didn't want this, but what choice did they have? The fight when on for quite a long time, seeing as they knew each other's exact moves. It was hard for either to get the upper hand.

  But when Clint managed to get a far shot, one arrow caught Natasha's shoulder, ripping her suit and breaking the skin. Clint froze when he saw the arrow had wounded her, as he almost ran up to help her until his grey blue eyes met her emerald ones and was reminded they weren't friends.

For a moment they just held each other's gaze, jaws tightened, fists clenched, and eyes unforgiving. After all they had been through, would it all end here? Clint slowly lowered his bow, exhaling as he knew it wasn't over.

But before he could even act, Natasha took the upper hand, and sent a bullet into his leg. Letting out an agonizing scream as his legs gave in on him, he fell hard to the ground. Blood poured from his wound as he closed his eyes and grit his jaw, his hand reaching down to try and apply pressure on it. His bow dropped beside him, and his arrows fell out of his quiver.

Approaching the fallen archer, the Russian looked down on him with a cold gaze. Her leather half gloved hand reaching for her pistol, there was no mercy in her eye as she aimed to send a bullet through his head.

Clint laid on his side, hunched over as he continued to try and stop the bleeding in his leg. The pain of the gunshot was so extreme that sweat gleamed over his brow, and his grey blue eyes watered. His jaw shook, as he tried not to cry out, but the bullet had went down to the bone. As Natasha looked down at him, she continued to hold her gun up and steady, her finger on the trigger. He didn't try to get up, he didn't even try to kick out and trip her, or reach for his own firearm. His beaten and bloodied face looked upward towards her, his eyes looking at her unforgiving face, and then to her wounded shoulder, to the wound he inflicted on her.

How could he let this happen? How could he have hurt her like that, but how could she have shot him? He wanted to scream, to cry and yell at her, for betraying him like this. But he couldn't...he didn't have the strength.

Closing his grey blue eyes  and lowering his head, he inhaled slowly, knowing what was coming. Lifting his bloodied hand from his wound and placing it over the pocket where he always put a photograph of his family, he spoke softly, "Go ahead. Do it."

As he spoke, Natasha didn't move. Her cold hard gaze bore into him as he laid there, eyes closed and head lowered in defeat, preparing for it all to be over. For his friend, his best friend, to take the shot. It would bring her team closer to winning this war after all, what was stopping her.

Her half gloved hand began to shake as she struggled to hold the gun. She wanted to push away all emotion, to think clearly and do what needed to be done. But it hurt her to see Clint in so much pain, pain that she had caused.

Did she still care for him? Did part of her regret this all and wish she could stay by his side, despite what she believed? Yes. But war had torn these two apart, and now here she stood, holding Clint down at gunpoint, and ready to end his life with one quick pull of a trigger.

But it was as she looked at him, that she remembered what had happened the last time they were trying to kill each other. When Agent Barton was sent to kill her...but he made a different call. He spared her life all those years ago, and now here she was, set on ending his. Had she ever truly repaid his debt? No, she hadn't. And killing a man she cared about deeply, despite what he believed, would only put more red in that ledger she was working so hard to wipe clean. If she pulled the trigger she would never be able to live with herself. Knowing she killed a father to a family who was practically her own, that she killed the closet person in her life. Was what she was fighting for more important than the man who saved her so many years ago?

  Her emerald green eyes were still cold and emotionless, but her hand slowly lowered. Her hand grew limp and the gun fell from it and clanked to the floor. The strength to hold back her emotions was gone, and she said through a few small tears, "I can't."

Her voice was soft but filled with regret and love as she shook her head and lowered it into her trembling hands. Despite the high stakes, despite the planet's fate resting on this war, she couldn't do it. This time she was the one to make the call, to spare his life.

" I can't do it."

Clint's grey blue eyes opened slowly as he looked up towards her, a sudden soft gaze of gratitude shone through his eye. She still was struggling to keep herself together, but it was suddenly that Clint spoke, his voice hoarse and yet gentle,
"Tasha".

She jerked her head up, emotions pushing her to the brink of instability. Clint had never seen her this vulnerable, and his own eyes began to lace with tears. What had they done? What had he done?

"Thank you..." He said after getting her attention, his eyes locked on hers. He knew that in war soldiers like her had to follow orders, she had risked everything to spare him. But because she did, his wife wouldn't become a widow. His three children, wouldn't lose their father. When hearing him say that she slowly approached him, kneeling down beside where he laid, she reached for his com and pressed the distress signal. Help would come, and he would be okay.

For a moment she simply looked down at him, and him up towards her. No words were exchanged, but it was through their gaze, and his gentle nod, that she knew. She had repaid that debt. Placing a hand on his head quickly as she got up, she said softly as she looked at his bloodied wound, "I'm sorry...".

  As she walked away he suddenly called up, his voice genuine despite the pain it help,

"Don't be sorry. You don't owe me anything anymore. This war isn't over yet, be careful. When this is all over, maybe we ca-"

  She cut him off sharply as she said, "This war wasn't worth it."

She suddenly regretted it all: Stark. Rogers. Pro Registration. Anti Registration. None of it mattered, because it almost pushed her into killing the only person that did matter.

She eventually did walk away, and soon found a way to remove herself from the War. Clint was found by Steve and Sam after the distress signal on his com went out, and after he was stabilized he was removed from the War effort due to his injury, and returned home to his family.

Natasha Romanoff disappeared, she flew off both Stark and Roger's radar, and no one knew where she was, or if she was alive. Not even Clint. Slowly, they all began to lose faith that she should ever return. All lost hope, except Clint. He simply lived with regret that he didn't make it right with her, and believed he was the reason she left. But he always held faith she would come back. As months turned into a year, Clint never forgot her, nor lost that faith.