#clintahsa

“Clint, are you in position?” Natasha hisses over the coms, trying to keep her voice down as to not alert the guards to her presence. The rafters that she’s squeezed herself into are a tight fit, but she managed to wedge herself in the position where she could drop straight onto the gym’s floor without the guards noticing. 

“Just a second,” Clint huffs, and Natasha can tell that he’s out of breath. “Almost there.”

“Fine, hurry,” Natasha says before turning off her com. A little chat with Clint might calm her nerves and help her focus, but it’s not worth the repercussions of getting caught. 

.

Get out your guns, battles begun

Are you a saint, or a sinner?

If loves a fight, than I shall die

With my heart on a trigger

.

Trying to get herself focused, Natasha scans the gym floor. Tonight, their target is an underground fight ring, and while she can’t see the fighters in the pit at the moment, she can see three of their most wanted targets milling around the crowd, placing bets. Alexander Sable, a high profile drug trader, and his two comrades Henry Dexter and Eliza Hansen each stand at various parts of the floor, drinks in hand. 

“Gotcha,” Natasha grins to herself, allowing herself a short moment of triumph. 

“Alright, I’m in position.” Clint’s voice says cooly in her ear, and Natasha snaps back into focus. 

“Okay. On my count, on three.”

“Wait, on three or after three?”

“Clint.”

“I’m just saying, it’s different for different people, you know? So--”

“On three.”

“Okay, got it.” 

.

They say before you start a war

You better know what you're fighting for

Well baby, you are all that I adore

If love is what you need, a soldier I will be

.

“One, two, three.” Natasha drops from the rafters and lands on the concrete floor, rolling to minimize the impact. 

“Hey!” a voice yells behind her, but she sprints through the crowd, dodging the arms that swipe at her. 

Natasha dives under a table, eyes on the first target. 

“Clint, I got Sable, you get the other two!” she barks into her com, and hears some sentiment of affirmation, but she can’t hear it well because that’s when the gunfire begins. 

Natasha throws herself behind a nearby pillar, pressing herself against the marble as shots and screams ring out into the air. 

“Nat, how you doing?” Clint’s voice hisses in her ear, and she takes a deep breath. 

“Hold on,” she mutters, pulling her gun out of her thigh holster, and leaning against the column, trying to quickly analyze the situation. She hears the shots coming mostly from the right, and because there is so much chaos on the ground floor, the shooter is most likely hiding in the rafters. “Opening fire,” she says shortly, clicking her gun into position. 

.

I'm an angel with a shotgun

Fighting til' the wars won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back

.

Without a second thought, she whirls around the column and fires at the upper right rafters, but instead of hearing the thud of a body, she hears Clint hiss into the comm. 

“Barton, what’s going on?” she says sharply, but she has already launched herself into motion, her eyes still tracking Sable’s movements across the floor. 

“Nat,” he says, and she almost freezes at his tone. “Uh, I think you just shot me.” 

.

I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

Don't you know you're everything I have?

And I, wanna live, not just survive, tonight

.

“Oh my god,” Natasha huffs, vaulting over one of the betting tables, her eyes trained on Sable’s retreating form. “Okay, okay, hold on, how bad is it?”

“Not bad,” he says, and she actually believes him. He sounds calm and controlled. “Just a graze on my arm. But Nat, what’s going on?”

“Hold on!” she says sharply, and leaps on top of one of the tables to quickly take aim before pulling the trigger and watching Sable fall to the ground. “Did you get the other two?”

.

Sometimes to win, you've got to sin

Don't mean I'm not a believer

And major Tom, will sing along

Yeah, they still say I'm a dreamer

.

“Yeah, yeah, I got them,” Clint says, and Natasha feels the surface under her feet shift as three armed guards barrel towards her. The table jerks and before Natasha can safely leap off, one of the guards overturns the surface, and she is sent tumbling to the ground. 

“Ah,” she winces, feeling her shoulder pop underneath her, but she can’t stop. She jumps to her feet, avoiding a punch from one of the guards, and swiftly slides between them, sprinting towards the main exit. “Clint, can you get yourself to the rendezvous point?” 

“Yeah, I’ll meet you there in five.” 

“Make it three,” she barks, and dives through the open doors, slamming them shut behind her and snapping the lock into place. “I just got out.”

.

They say before you start a war

You better know what you're fighting for

Well baby, you are all that I adore

If love is what you need, a soldier I will be

.

Natasha sprints down the staircase towards the above-ground exit, feeling the relief wash over her as sunlight hits her face. Suddenly a strong, blunt force hits her squarely in the chest, and Natasha is sent hurtling down the stairs. She wraps her arms around her head, moaning when she finally hits the floor. 

“Clint, we got friends in the parking lot,” she manages, and she hears Clint’s intake of breath. 

“Are you okay?”

“Clint, I’m the one who shot you, please don’t ask if I’m okay.” she just rolls her eyes, shaking off the pain, and tries again, sprinting back up the stairs but drawing her gun as she runs. 

Two armed guards stand at the top of the steps, and both approach her menacingly as she reaches the sidewalk. 

.

I'm an angel with a shotgun

Fighting til' the wars won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back

.

Natasha takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the throbbing in her shoulder, and dives between them, rolling up to her feet and drawing her gun. 

She hears the click of their guns, and suddenly they are locked in a standstill, Natasha’s gun pointed at the left guard, and both of their guns trained on her. 

“Clint, little help?” she hisses into the com. 

“Coming,” Clint says quickly, but Natasha doesn’t move. 

She stands there for almost a whole minute, and the guards don’t even speak. They just stare, watching her movements. 

“Clint,” she tries again, and she hears him grunt out something unintelligible before both of the guards suddenly collapse to the ground. 

“Got em,” Clint grins, and she jumps when he appears at her side. “Come on, we got to get out while we can.”

.

I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

Don't you know you're everything I have?

And I, wanna live, not just survive, tonight

.

It’s almost an hour before they reach medical evac. Natasha is surprised when she realizes Clint wasn’t exaggerating about the graze--her bullet had only carved a shallow mark down the length of his arm that only required a few stitches. 

“I’ll stay,” he says without prompting, grabbing her hand. 

“Thanks,” she hums, leaning against him, but wincing when her injured shoulder takes the impact. 

.

I'm an angel with a shotgun

Fighting til' the wars won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back

.

A doctor comes into their room, not even mentioning Clint’s presence, and proceeds to wordlessly wrap Natasha’s shoulder and ribs. The doctor tries to give her pain medication, but she just shakes her head firmly, and the doctor leaves the two of them in peace. 

“Nat,” Clint mutters, and she just sighs, leaning against the pillows of the cheap hospital bed. 

“I’m sorry,” she sighs. “I got careless, I got sloppy--”

“You were distracted, Nat, why?” he strokes her hair, and she feels the exhaustion begin to set in with the gentle sleepy rhythm of his hands in her hair. 

“I don’t know,” she murmurs. “You didn’t tell me you were going to open fire.”

“I did, Nat.” Natasha opens her eyes to see him looking at her, concern on his face. “I definitely did.”

.

I'm an angel with a shotgun

Fighting til' the wars won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back

I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

.

“Well--” Natasha fails to find words, so she just shuts her mouth and glares at the ceiling. “I guess I didn’t hear you.”

“You were off your game today, Tasha.” Clint just shakes his head. 

“I know,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Natasha,” he murmurs, laying down on the bed next to her. She just sighs, leaning against him, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Everyone has bad days.”

“I’m sorry I shot you,” she murmurs into his shoulder, and he just chuckles. 

“I’ve had worse.” 

.

Don't you know you're everything I have?

(I'm an angel with a shotgun)

And I, want to live, not just survive, tonight

(Live, not just survive)