Clintasha One-shots

Natasha Hurt

A/N: I don't speak russian so please forgive any mistakes in the translation.

The Avengers had only been living in the Tower for a few months when Fury called them. It was a Thursday morning and nearly everyone had gathered in the communal kitchen, either already eating or preparing breakfast. The director looked concerned so Tony pulled him up on the big screen for everyone to see.
“Gentlemen, I don’t know how to put this lightly so I won’t. Agent Romanoff has been retrieved from a Mission and is currently in Coma. We don’t know when or if she will wake up again. You might want to come and see her.”
Behind him, Steve heard porcelain shatter and turned to see Barton dropping his fourth cup of coffee. It was the most open expression he had seen from the Archer since they moved in. Romanoff and Barton had always been distant with the team. Before anybody could say anything, the Agent had already shot out a window and rappelled down towards the garage, not bothering for the elevator.
When the rest of the Avengers was up and running, they could already hear the faint noise of his motorcycle speeding away. Tony proposed to take the helicopter and they all took the elevator to the flight deck. Even though they were considerably faster than the Agent’s ducati, they found him already in the infirmary when the group arrived at the Shield base. He was talking to Maria Hill, a stern look on his face. Through the closed glass door, they couldn’t make out what the two Shield agents were talking about and once they entered, Hill left with a nod towards the arriving group.
Barton stood next to bed for a few minutes, watching the Russian sleep before he reached out and gently tucked the Shield dog tags from her neck. He put them on, placing the chain above his own and left without another word. His expression ever emotionless.
“Huh.” Tony exclaimed “That was weird. He didn’t even show concern for his Partner. I thought they knew each other for years. How could he stay so cold?” the accusation hung in the room, nobody daring to speak. They all valued the pair of agents but neither of them thought they wanted to be part of the Avengers, Barton more so than Romanoff.
Finally, Steve spoke up, breaking the silence. “You’re wrong. He did show concern. Did you notice how much he hurried to get to her? I bet he is on a plane right now, hunting down the people who did this.” In a certain way, he was able to understand Barton. He was a Soldier like himself.
“But he was all cold and distant when we came in.” Tony argued, absently checking on the monitors they had attached to the red head.
This time it was Bruce to talk “Yeah because someone else was there. Romanoff and Barton are spies. They are trained to hide their emotions at all costs. We wouldn’t understand.” Everybody just nodded, gathering in a circle around the bed, watching over their injured teammate.
The hours passed and eventually, a nurse brought some chairs for the Avengers to sit in. They talked quietly, exchanging stories to fill the silence. After six hours in total, Barton returned, dressed in Cargo pants and a black shirt together with a Shield issued Kevlar Vest. His shirt stuck wet to his torso and was so heavily stained with blood, that one couldn’t tell whether it was his own or someone else’s. “See” Bruce whispered to Tony who sat next to him.
The Agent made a beeline for the bed, standing beside it and murmuring soothing words in a language that sounded a lot like Russian. None of the Avengers dared to pick on the conversations they had before, fearing to disturb whatever the Archer was saying. Not even two minutes passed before a Nurse entered the room, looking accusingly at the bloodied form next to the bed. “Agent Barton!” she said in a no-nonsense tone “You will let me check your injuries this instant or I will ban you all from Miss Romanoff’s room!” When he didn’t respond right away, the older nurse tapped him on the shoulder. She seemed to know the pair of agents fairly well to speak so boldly. “Clinton Francis Barton!” She scold again staring him down “Natasha would have both our asses when she wakes up and finds out you didn’t tend to your wounds. It will take ten minutes at most then I will get you a chair, too.” The archer gave his sleeping partner one last look, saying something in Russian again before giving in with a sigh “Fine Maggie.”
Once they left, Tony looked around the room again “Well that was even weirder.” Bruce smiled faintly “Remember the Name of that nurse. I never get them to come and check up with me after missions without at least half an hour arguing.” Before anyone could agree, they were disturbed again by Fury entering the room.
“Why the hell does no one tell me my best agent went on a suicide hunt without backup while his Partner, who is my second best Agent, is in coma?” His voice boomed through the room, targeting no one in particular. “We didn’t know, Sir.” Rogers answered dutifully. Tony just rolled his eyes “What were you going to do anyway? Stop him?”
“Hell no, I would have sent an armada of Agents with him to ensure those bastards pay for it. I can’t afford to lose two Agents on one day. Especially not those two.” Fury was still fuming but calmed down gradually, walking over to Romanoff to check on her. For a second, Tony was sure he could see worry and affection in the director’s look. The moment faded as soon as it came and the genius remembered something else Fury had said.
“I always thought Romanoff was your best Agent. I mean Barton is just a sniper right?” the question got him a raised eyebrow from Fury who was clearly doubting his serenity right now. “And I thought you Avengers went on missions together.” Nick stated, crossing his arms. “Yeah and he always acts as a sniper from high above. I’ve never even seen him in a hand to hand fight.”
Fury’s eyebrows rose even further, almost disappearing on his skull. “You have been working together for three months and never seen Agent Barton fight? What about training?”
“They always train alone. Natasha is the only one that joins our training from time to time.” Bruce supplied with a shrug. The doctor didn’t finish talking when Fury pulled a screen over, tapping security codes and opening files. “This is from today.” He stated, starting a surveillance video they had acquired of the base Barton went to.
A black-clad figure dropped out of a vent, right on top of a guard standing below it. The man’s neck was snapped by a forceful twist of Barton’s thighs before he could shout a warning to his college a few steps down the hallway who immediately got a throwing knife in the back of his head. Bruce winced with the sound of the knife embedding itself in the skull but nevertheless kept watching, mesmerised by the graceful movements of their fellow teammate. Hawkeye crept through the hallways like a panther, taking down guard after guard on his way through the compound. After the first 20, they all stopped counting the bodies he’d left behind. Eventually, his presence was revealed and Barton had to shoot his way through to the main control room. Just now, they noticed he didn’t have his bow with him but two side-arms instead. Regardless, the projectiles whether knifes or bullets always found their way. At one point Tony exclaimed in amazement when he pulled the matrix move, throwing a knife while avoiding a salve of bullets. He skittered on his knees towards the one shooting and kicked his kneecaps in before knocking him out for good.
They all almost shrieked when the door behind them made a sound. Barton stood in the doorway looking confused at his teammates that mustered him with horror in their eyes. He had shed his ruined shirt and now sported a white bandage around his lover abdomen and several butterfly band aids which held together the shallower cuts on his torso. A thin blanket was wrapped around his shoulders “What is going on here?” The Agent asked dangerously calm, addressing his director.
Fury just shrugged, closing the video file “They said they never saw you fight. I fixed that.” The worry-lines on Barton’s forehead deepened. “You did what?” his voice dropped a few octaves, sounding threatening “Nat’s in a coma and the best thing you guys have to do is watch surveillance videos from my missions?” he practically growled.
“I know what you were playing Barton.” Fury replied unfazed “They would have found out sooner or later. Besides the doctors told me the chances are good she will wake before the end of the week.” With that, he left the room, his coat flattering behind him dramatically.
“Fucking Bastard.” Was all the Agent muttered before sitting next to his Partner and switching to Russian again. 
Carefully, the captain approached him from behind, standing next to his chair “Why do you care so much whether we know your true strength?” A sigh escaped the Archers lips “I see the way you look at Tasha. You don’t need another one to fear under your roof.”
“We don’t fear her.” Tony said standing up, too. “I know you do.” Barton stated “And you should but that’s not the point. Civilians react that way when they see killers and it’s fine I just wanted to spare you as long as I could.”
Rogers tried to reach out to him but decided against it. “Son, we are not civilians we can take it.” The archer shot a glare to their leader “Don’t you ‘Son’ me, I am older than you in actual life years. And in comparison to us, you are civilians. How many people did you kill? Six? Ten?”
“Twenty two.” The man in question said quietly. “See, Natasha had her first with nine years, mine was with sixteen.” The silence that followed was only broken by Bruce, who finally stood alongside Tony “We could never understand but we will try our best to no judge you. I hope that will be enough.” Barton inclined his head “more than I could ask from you”
“Since we are in story telling mode,” Tony said jokingly to lighten the mood “What is that ring for you have hanging around your neck?” Instinctively, the blonde reached for the silver chain around his neck that bore a ring made from brushed titanium. The double pair of dog tags made silent clanging noises when he clasped a hand around the ring, shielding it from view. “Never mentioned you were married.”
“None of your business Stark.” He ground out and continued to talk to Romanoff. Her vitals had increased positively and just as Bruce wanted to mention that he thought she would wake soon, Natasha opened her eyes. Immediately, her gaze locked on Barton, a small smile on her lips “Мой Ястреб, ты снова охотился?“ (My Hawk, have you been hunting again?) she whispered, looking at the bandage around his torso. “Для тебя моя любовь.“ (For you my love.) He replied, releasing the ring to take her hand in his. “тебе больно“ (You are hurt) „Просто царапина, не волнуйся.“ (Just a scratch, don‘t worry.)
Next to them, Tony coughed audibly “Would you care to speak English? So the rest of us understands?” Looking at the Archer, she formed one last question “Знают ли они?“ (Do they Know?) Barton shook his head “нет“ (No) „Thank you all for coming.“ Natasha smiled “You didn’t had to.”
“Of course we did.” Steve injected before Stark could pull a snarky comment. “But since you are awake and well, we will leave you to rest. Come on guys.” He added, gathering the chairs they had used in a corner. Barton made no move to follow them and after a pointed look from Bruce, nobody objected.
They were already out the door and down the corridor, when Tony pulled them back, peeking through the window in the hospital room. The two assassins were kissing, Barton had an arm wrapped around her protectively and after a second, he raised the other hand with his middle finger towards the door. The gesture was clear, they were told to fuck the hell off already.
“How did he know we were watching?” Tony muttered to himself on their way back to the helicopter. “Spy” Bruce stated dryly.