hey lookit I finally finished this (: sorry it took forever ily
He wakes up in a cold sweat. His heart hammering in his chest
He had been dreaming. A nightmare. Had his arm around Natasha’s neck, watching her thrash as he tightened his hold.
He remembers what it was like, feeling cold and robotic and unable to control his limbs, to be trapped inside his own body. He hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone, especially Natasha.
He feels sick. His stomach clenches. Feels acid burning in his chest.
He felt that in his eyes before, burning, red and irritated. Unable to even close his eyes, to close himself off from the horrendous actions carried out under Loki’s mind control.
He’d attacked and injured the one person he’d grown to trust with his life, completely, above all others. The person whose trust he had earned after dismissing orders to kill her, instead taking her to s.h.i.e.l.d with him, with him.
Natasha went willingly, unshackled and unarmed. She’d been closed off and stone faced the whole way, and for months after, but she went all the same. Because of him. Because they knew each other right from the start, before they had even said a word to each other.
Clint knows anger and abandonment. He knows doing unsavory things to get by, just to make it to the next day. He knows what it is to lose yourself, to have everything taken from you. He knows having to fight so hard to keep some semblance of yourself. He knows bone deep exhaustion, being numb to the outside world, mechanically going through the motions of your life. He knows having no other choice but still wanting out.
He had promised her that nothing would happen to her, that she would be safe. He let her down.
Natasha is awake. She hasn’t stirred or made a sound, of course she hasn’t – she’s the Black Widow, but Clint can feel her. He just can’t look at her, not yet.
His promises mean nothing when he’s pointing a gun at his partner, when he’s helped them get out of one despicable agency only to lead them into another.
Nightmares glorify your worst fears, brings them to life in horrifyingly vivid detail, but he’s seen glimpses of those fears even while he’s awake – so has she, they all have.
Clint scrubs a hand over his face. He sits at the edge of the bed, hunched over, his feet on the cold floor. He’s not sure how long he stays like that but he’s calmed down enough not to flinch when he feels a hand on his shoulder.
Natasha shuffles on the bed to kneel behind him. She winds her arms around him and kisses his cheek. “Come back to bed,” she whispers, her voice warm.
With Natasha tucked to his side, he curls his arm around her to keep her close while she soothingly scratches her short nails along his ribs until she’s fallen asleep again. Clint lies awake, feeling her weight against him, smells the lingering scent of her shampoo when he leans down to place a kiss at her temple. He’s able to fall asleep after awhile, grateful it’s still dark out, with the feel of her heart beating against his.
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