The Stars We Dream Of | A. Romanoff-Barton

Chapter 5: The Soldier

Time passed. Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. Months turned to years.

Natasha Romanoff was a changed person. She hardly spoke, surrounding herself in an invisible barrier of silence. Her daughter wasn't with her, something that she needed. People kept telling her to move on. But she couldn't. But she wouldn't.

To have a child, one that you carried for nine months. One that you endured pain for, soothed, had restless nights for, one that you loved, one that you would die for, was taken. The only time that Natasha Romanoff was vulnerable.

Clint Barton was a changed person. He didn't have a lot of family. With a mother who died when he was six, and a father had abused him as a child, who took the simplest of a reason to hit him, not many would've given him a second glance. He had worked in the circus, the only refuge that would take a broken ten-year-old kid. And then SHIELD noticed him. And the rest they say is history.

It was his cruel father's treatment that made him promise to himself that he would be the best father he could be. He would protect, care, nurture, and most importantly love his child. And he would.

He remembers the day that he found out he was going to be a father. It was March 8th 2000. Natasha had set up dinner and told him that she had something very important to tell him. That she was pregnant. That he, Clint Francis Barton was going to become a father. He almost didn't believe it. But the happiness on his wife's face made it so real. He never felt so happy in his entire life.

On May 1st, 2000, Clint Barton found out he was going to have a little girl. He always wanted a daughter. A daughter that he would be able to dress in pink frilly dresses. A daughter that he could protect. A daughter that he would stay up all night whenever she was scared. A daughter to hold her hand, be a shoulder to cry on any day. A daughter whose boyfriend he would threaten by putting an arrow through his skull.

Then came the day, December 15th, 2000 when Natasha's water had broke. He drove to the SHIELD hospital like a madman, his own nerves all bundled up. Clint was holding Natasha's hand as they urged her to stay calm. Clint began to get nervous. What if something happened? What if something went wrong? What if the baby didn't make it? But everything turned out okay. At 5:26 am that day, Alivana Francis Romanoff-Barton was born.

Clint remembered holding that pink bundle close to his chest, carefully rocking her as if she were a piece of china. She was asleep, and she looked blissful. Calm. Serene. He analyzed her features, she had Natasha's hair, but his facial features. A few hours old and the most adorable person on the planet. That day, Clint had promised that he would die before putting his daughter in harm's way. Ever.

It was memories like that that had kept him going through the day. Every time he saw a happy family, a wave of nostalgia hit him like a train. What did he do so wrong to end up with his daughter taken away from him?

The two insisted that they were on every HYDRA mission because each base meant that there could be hope that Alivana Romanoff-Barton was still alive. And who was Fury to argue?

Each base had turned up empty, hope was diminishing. It had been one year now. But they couldn't give up.

»»——⍟——««

Something very cold and very hard made contact with Alivana's cheek, leaving a heavy black and blue bruise. Alivana quickly opened her eyes, not wanting to get worse of a beating today. Pierce mocked, "Good girl. Today you have a visitor. I have to go away for a few days, but he is going to make sure you get your proper punishments." Alivana's eyes widened with fear but she nodded, not wanting to upset Pierce. He would already beat her for doing nothing wrong, she would hate to imagine what he would do to her if she actually did something wrong.