For one glorious, gravity-defying moment, Clint felt like he was flying as he jumped from the swing.
It made him feel like he could do anything. It made him feel fearless and untouchable.
He needed more of that in his life.
--
The journey of Clint's life from a boy wishing for a better life in Waverly, Iowa to the man who becomes an Avenger and the relationships that helped to make him who he is.
It's posting day for the fic I wasn't sure I was ever going to actually write until I saw about @clintbartoncelebrationbash and decided to just go for it! This is in many ways the backstory I wish we could've gotten from what little we got on screen and is shockingly canon compliant from me while being the divorce fic I've admittedly wanted to try my hand at for a while.
Also, I got to coordinate with ivvic on a beautiful art piece for this fic, go check that out with the story! :)
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“Hey,” Clint lightheartedly warned as Natasha reached across him to snag a cherry tomato. “Those aren’t for munching tonight.”
She smirked at him in unapologetic challenge and coyly said, “I don’t see you stopping me.”
“You get one freebie.”
Without breaking eye contact, Natasha popped the tomato into her mouth and started to reach for another only for Clint to gently grab her wrist.
“Not a snack bar.”
Natasha took a deep breath and drew the bow, holding for a moment as she marginally adjusted her aim before she loosed the arrow.
Even from the distance she stood away from the target on the range, it wasn't hard to tell that her arrow had hit a ring away from the bullseye.
"Close, but not quite," Clint commented from behind her with an almost smug note in his voice.
She lowered the bow as she turned back to cast him a pointed look. "I'll get the hang of it."
"I mean, you're only going up against years of experience and a natural knack for it…" He broke into an unapologetic grin as she affectionately rolled her eyes. "And you're always welcome to give in on the bet."
"You wish," Natasha retorted. She angled back to face the target and grabbed another arrow, confident she wouldn't hit the first. "I still have nine to go."
The concept of the bet was simple: whichever one of them hit more bullseyes with the other's usual weapon under mostly equalizing conditions didn't have to write mission reports for three weeks. In practice they were each slightly more competitive about it than anticipated.
True to Natasha's expectation, her second arrow hit closer to the bullseye than the first, prompting her to smirk back at him. "See? Getting the hang of it."
Clintasha Advent 2022 Day 11: In sickness and in health
It wasn't like Natasha to be late for one of their early morning sparring sessions.
Clint waited an extra ten minutes and double checked his messages just to see if he had missed a reason why she wasn't there before he headed to her room on the base and knocked twice in succession on the door. "Natasha?" he asked, careful to keep his volume measured out of respect to the other sleeping agents in nearby rooms.
No initial response.
He knocked again. "Natasha?" Clear concern bled into his voice. "You okay? Or even in there?"
Another long moment passed to the point he was almost ready to try again when she finally opened the door.
To his immediate worry, she looked haggard and didn't look him directly in the eye. "Not feeling great," she weakly managed to say, her voice hoarse. "Sorry for missing training."
"Forget training," Clint immediately said, sympathy lining his tone, "you just focus on resting." He gave her an appraising once-over and caught a subtle shake in her hands. "Hey," he softly said, prompting her to look at him, her expression surprisingly vulnerable. "I'm just gonna grab a few things and be right back to help, you can just lay down and I'll take care of the logistics, okay?"
"You don't need to do that," she started to insist, her voice barely coming out above a whisper.
He cast her a patient but pointed look. "Partners look out for each other, and trust me, it's not a problem." After a second he added, "Are you okay if I let Coulson know too?"
Natasha was silent for a long moment of clear deliberation before she nodded. "Okay." She narrowed her eyes. "But I don't want to see a doctor."
"Hopefully it's just something that'll pass then," Clint brightly said, knowing it wouldn't escape her notice that he couldn't promise not to encourage her to see a doctor if it was needed.
Regardless, she finally relented into laying back down while he contacted Coulson and collected an assortment of sick day items for health and entertainment before he returned.
"I've got a little bit of everything just to cover our bases," he explained as he unpacked a bag of food items in her small kitchen space. "Have you eaten anything yet?"
Natasha had obligingly stayed in her bed but sat on it instead while wrapped up in a blanket as she watched him move through her space. "I haven't tried, only water."
He nodded. "Any nausea?"
"I don't think so, I'm only generally miserable," she croaked.
"Mmkay, oatmeal sound like a good breakfast? I've got cinnamon apple and maple brown sugar for flavors."
"Cinnamon apple."
"Awesome."
Clint busied himself in food prep and kept conversation going with whatever came to mind as Natasha slowly ate and started to look at least marginally less frightfully pale.
After she finished the oatmeal and let him take the bowl to wash for her she caught his wrist to prompt him to pause. "You don't have to stay with me. I'll manage."
"I'm sure you would, but I don't think you should have to be miserable and alone. Besides," he casually shrugged with one shoulder, "it's probably good for me to take a relaxed day too." After a second he added, "But if you do really want space, just say so and I'll leave."
Her hold slightly tightened around his wrist before she let go. "You can stay if you want."
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“Zefir?” Clint incredulously questioned as Natasha laid out the word on the Scrabble board. “Is that real?”
“Mmhmm.” A restrained smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth as she pointedly tapped on the ‘E’ tile. “And worth triple.”
“Dammit.” He let his face fall for a moment before he nudged her leg under the table and added, “So if you’re gonna probably win with it, care to enlighten me on what zefir means?”
Natasha nodded as she drew new letter tiles. “It’s a type of treat, like a marshmallow mixed with fruit. Russian.”
He hummed in acknowledgement. “Guess I’ll accept it as a fair win if we can find some of it once we’re back.”
I needed some of Yelena being curious about Natasha’s arrow necklace and it turned into something a little longer within some (canon compliant) quiet pining.
“That’s a very significant choice of jewelry, something so obviously about your partner.” Yelena leaned slightly over the center console towards her. “What does he think about it?”
Natasha pursed her lips and quickly glanced over at Yelena. “I don’t know what you want to hear-.”
Summary: Jane is just trying to calmly finish the last couple months of the school year when she crosses paths with Thor and gains the most unexpected friendship of her life. As for possibly developing a romantic interest on top of that? She feels like she has a handle on it.
