The New York Assignment

Fourteen

Natasha stared down at the body of Barbra Morse. Her head was twisted at an unnatural angle, her baby blue eyes still open and looking, unseeing, down the dark corridor. Natasha thought of what she'd said about Clint, and her taunts as they fought.

Clint had slept with her. It made Natasha sick to imagine it. True, he could have been drugged, he could have been drunk. It probably did mean nothing to him. But it meant everything to Natasha. The love he'd once expressed for her seemed hollow now.

Natasha shook herself. It didn't matter. She still loved Clint, even if she now felt wrong and cheated because of it. She would get him out of this place, or die trying. And after they were out... she'd leave. She'd go off the grid for a while, do solo work. Apart from SHIELD, apart from the Avengers... apart from him.

She turned away from the body, and ran in the direction Coulson and the others went. It took her less than five minutes to find them. They were standing at the very center of the compound. Eight corridors branched off, like the spokes on a wheel. Tony studied the blue prints.

They were right on top of the life sign. Only one.

"Natasha, one of the dots disappeared," Steve said slowly.

Natasha swallowed. "Alright. We split up. Each take a separate corridor. Contact the others if you find anything."

They obeyed, each running in different directions.

____________________________________________

Clint felt dizzy with pain. His side sung with every inhale. Blood still gushed over the knife and down his side.

He didn't care about that. All he could think about was Natasha - his beautiful Natasha - disfigured, broken, bleeding. He never should have left her. He never should have walked out on her.

He briefly wondered where Bobbi was. Was she being tortured, too, or had she betrayed him? Was she alright? Was she still working for Trick Shot.

Natasha's bloody body entered his thoughts once again. He'd never felt so helpless, so utterly at fault, as he did now.

"Natasha," he whispered, "I'm so sorry. Oh, God, I'm so sorry!"

He heard the door creak open behind him. He tensed and shut his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable torture.

"Clint!" a familiar voice exclaimed. He felt a hand fall gently on his forearm, and opened his eyes to see a very welcome face. "Oh my God, what have they done to you?"

"Mom?" he asked in confusion.

Edith merely began untying him. When her delegate fingers couldn't undo the knots, she pulled out a knife and began cutting the cords away.

"What are you doing here?" Clint asked. "Mom, never mind about me, you've got to get Natasha out!"

Edith didn't even look up. "What are you talking about? She's fine. Worried near to death, but she's fine."

"No, she's not!" Clint yelled. "He tortured her! You've got to find her! You've got to help her!"

Edith finally looked at her son. "Honey, she's fine. Trick Shot didn't get her. She's here with Phil and Steve and Tony, to rescue-"

"Captain America and Iron Man are here?" Clint asked incredulously.

She nodded. "Yes. Natasha called them in."

"She's okay?"

"Yes, Clint. She's fine." She went back to work on the ropes, severing the two binding his hands behind the back of the chair. "You never should have gone out on your own. It was stupid and reckless. You're smarter than that!"

Clint sighed. "I know, thanks."

Edith finished untying him and looked at his side. She thought for a moment. "You're losing a lot of blood."
"No kidding," Clint said sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. She reached in her belt and pulled out a large bandage. Gripping the hilt of the knife, she slowly slid it out. Clint cried out as burning pain ripped through him. Once the knife was out, Edith quickly bandaged the wound as best she could.

"Guys, I found Clint," she spoke into a communicator.

No one responded, but they both knew all of them were racing to their location.

"Clint," Edith said, fixing her son with an intense but forgiving look. "Did you sleep with Morse?"

Clint swallowed hard. He prayed to whatever higher power existed that Natasha didn't know. He took a deep breath, and told the truth. "Yes."

Edith sighed. "You idiot! Do you have any idea what that did to Natasha!? She loves you more than anything, and you-"

"She knows?" Clint asked. His voice quivered in fear.

Edith pursed her lips. "Yes. She knows. Your mistress told her."

"Mom, it was just one night, I swear-"

"If I had a dime for every time I said that." Clint looked up to see Iron Man. He couldn't hide his surprise. "So you did cheat on the Black Widow? Man, I don't envy you. She is pissed."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Stark."

"Any time."

Phil ran past Tony. "Thank God you're alive," he said. "Natasha and Captain Rogers are on their way."

"They're here," Tony informed.

Clint looked back to see a perfectly healthy Natasha Romanoff. She stood just inside the doorway, staring back at him. Her expression was unreadable, but the fact that she just stood there instead of running up to him said enough. Steve Rogers stood by her side in an obvious display of support. It did not go unnoticed that his hand was resting on the small of Natasha's back.

There was something between them, something intimate. Clint didn't like it one bit. He swallowed, and said, "Nat..." He found himself incapable of saying anything further. What could he say? He was sorry? He was relieved to see her safe? He loved her? Everything sounded too hollow, too meaningless. And the look in her eyes told him that whatever he said had better mean the whole universe.

After several torturously long moments, Natasha looked away from him. Her voice was quiet, calm, and commanding. "We'd better get going. Trick Shot will be back soon."