Clint's fist hit the wall with surprising strength, considering he had spent the last few days fighting robots. He instantly regretted the decision and crumbled down to his knees, forehead hitting the wall. He cradled his hand and mentally punched h...
"I found you!" Natasha sang, hopping up on the edge of the roof next to Clint. She sat down and put an arm around his shoulders and he rested his head on her shoulder. "What's up?"
"Nothing."
"Why are you sad?"
"I'm not."
"Clinton Francis Barton, why are you sad?" she asked, though it was more like a demand. She grabbed both of his shoulders and turned him to face her, staring intently into his eyes.
"I'm not sad, I'm just confused," he mumbled, pulling himself out of her grip. The sun had risen now, and the glow of the morning sun from up above illuminated his best friend in such an intricate way.
"Why?" she asked, voice soft as she took his hand and laced their fingers together. Clint shrugged.
"I had this weird dream, and it was really detailed, and me and Piet got married but he when he said 'I do', I totally freaked and ran, and I don't want to do that in real life." Natasha sighed.
"What did dream-me say?" She knew that in nearly every dream Clint had that involved him backing out of things or being nervous, she was in the dream, telling him to shut up and calm down.
"You told me to shut up, and that I'm going to marry him and they I won't break anything and that if neither of us have money and we can leech off Rogers and Stark, and that he loves me and Wanda doesn't hate me."
"Okay, well, shut up and marry him. Your version of dream-me is just your subconscious taking the form of me because I'm great. You should listen to me, even if it's a dream, because I'm always right when it comes to telling you to shut up."
"Yeah, I guess."
"You may guess, but I know. Listen to real me and dream me when I say, you and that idiot are perfect for each other, and you'll get married, and I will be your best man if it's the last thing I do, Clinton Francis Barton."
"Do you have to use my full name?" he asked in a slight whine.
"Shut up or I'll use the nickname I gave you." Clint rolled his eyes.
"Nat, calling me 'Whore' isn't giving me a nickname."
"I'm going to shank you." They both laughed and Clint felt the nervousness that had previously buzzed through him slowly fade away, replaced with joy. "Go talk to him," Nat advised, gently touching his forearm. Clint nodded and went back into the Tower.
~~~
As he walked back to the room he and Pietro shared, nervousness buzzed through him again, but this time it was a dull feeling. As he got closer to the door, he could hear Pietro inside.
"Get off me! No, stop, leave me alone!" Confused, Clint walked inside just as Pietro was saying, "Oh my god, you whore, get away!" As it turns out, Clint's wonderful fiance was calling a small fluffy dog a whore. It was about a foot long and it's fur was white and gold.
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