russianchildatprayer | What's left of us (for broken

What's left of us (for broken_arrow)

The fire is spreading fast. The gamemaker wastes no time blowing up his arena, now that the winner stands.

She should be in the elevator already. The heat is unbearable, scorching the small hair of her arms where her uniform has torn, and stinging in countless ulcerous open wounds.

This one will scar.

There is no reason to linger. The other four are dead, she’s made very sure of that. Some put up a fight and suffered more than she would have wanted. But by now they all made it. They’re all relieved off what Dreykov still politely likes to call life.

All but one.

She could still end it. Her guns have drowned in that acid pool on the first day already and her last knife is stuck to the hilt in his liver. She can’t near him again if she doesn’t want to end up like him after all. But there’s enough rocks around. Worst case, she’ll burn her fingers while smashing his skull, before he has to suffer much worse pain.

The thick iron of the artificial walls, the faded layers of grass bred miles under the surface, just for this one purpose of yet another natural selection for Dreykov’s likes… All is glowing with the flames closing in around her. She can feel the hairs on her neck rise, smoking from the heat.

Still she keeps the door of the elevator open with her good arm, refusing to let it carry her to safety, to care, to the proud shimmer in Dreykov’s eyes and another nightmare to come by.

She shortly wonders if she should try take him with her. Maybe they’ll show mercy for once. He’s stood against her until the very last minute, after all. And even in that last fight she’s been nothing but lucky. It could be her bleeding out on the ground just a few meters away now.

She could try but the girl who’s been trained since before she even had been able to understood why and for what, knows better. The elevator won’t move if she drags him along with her. The doors won’t even close.

Only the strongest survive.

She’s been praying that he’ll pass out in these terrible few seconds of uncertainty, of trying to make a decision that’s long been made for her. She should know better. If a God exists, he has never taken particular interest in her life.

He turns to her, and she can see his eyelids are on fire. His lips form words that she can’t hear with one eardrum ruptured since day 3 and the rising noise of trees falling, barrels exploding, rocks crashing.

Maybe she’ll be able to tell herself for a while that he wants her to run.

But the part of her that turns away and takes the elevator to safety because there’s never been another way for her, knows better.

His last words were that he’ll find her.

She wishes, he could. Probably that’s why she left him alive. For the smallest chance that he’ll come for her, this time without making a stupid mistake. That he’ll be the one to finally put an end to it.

Only there’s no way he’ll make it out of there. There is no way out. They have made sure.

She won’t sleep better with that knowledge on her mind but that isn’t the point. Nightmares of seeing her lover burn to death is the easiest punishment she can wish for.

***************

Nightmares were hardly a rarity since Washington, but this was the first time Natasha awoke screaming. Still caught up in too bright, too detailed pictures burning behind her closed eyes, she realized too late that she was far too close to the edge of the bed. Before her instincts could kick in, she went to the floor, tangled in sweat stained sheets and landed on the very same shoulder that desperately needed a timeout anyway.

And that had been the last fucking time to take painkillers before going to sleep.

After she could breathe without wincing out in pain again, she left the bedroom to put together some kind of breakfast and a new load of meds. A postcard in her mailbox immediately made her forget about patching up that shoulder new. She couldn’t help but wonder how Steve had found her. It seemed, she had taught him better than she had realized.

Sam and him hadn’t found anything yet, that amateurishly coded card said. He wanted to know if she was okay. Saying they could use a hand. Sure they could.

He was stubborn, she had to give him that. She wondered if he’d still be once he found out the rest about her, all the stuff that was openly out in the world after Washington. And he would. Once they found Barnes and he would go back to a normal life… Steve would get to know the whole truth about her, sooner or later. There probably wouldn’t be postcards with smileys on them then anymore.

Time for another relocation, it seemed. She had waited for weeks, something that was far too dangerous anyway, and by now all hope was gone that at least a message of Clint might eventually catch up with her here. Hell, there was no telling if he was even still alive. Maybe the buzz out there had at least died down enough by now to try and find out that. The nightmares wouldn't go away from sitting and lying around in apathy much longer, that was for sure.

Ignoring her slightly dizzy condition, due to a few days without enough food, as much as the new warm, wet spots staining the bandage under her shirt, Natasha went back to the bedroom to pack her things. If Steve had found out where she was, chances were too big that someone else would too, to linger much longer.

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Clint let out something akin to a whine when Natasha pulled away, but as neither of them were really in any shape to wrestle he didn’t try to hold her back. He did, however, openly ogle her naked body as she walked away before letting his head fall back against the sofa, a stupid grin on his face. This was exactly what he’d needed, she was exactly what he needed, and while he knew they would eventually have to move on, he was definitely looking forward to at least a few days holed up here while they both recovered.

Hearing her return to the room he once more followed her movements, a blissful smile on his face. Even with her shoulder bandaged and her body a little thinner than he remembered he was sure he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

She cleaned him up gently before curling up beside him on the sofa, her head on his thigh. “Oh yeah, I’m better than okay,” he said, grinning down at her as he stroked his fingers through her hair. “You?”

"Hm-Hm. Couldn't be better."

Natasha let hear something suspiciously close to a purr. Mindblowing sex was just one thing. This, snuggling, being close to someone, Clint's soft, tender touch, that was what she had never had in her life before him. At least not in a life that hadn't been all built on lies and deceit.

She let her arm rest unmoving on her side for a while to give it the needed rest but made sure to press her lips to his thigh from time to time, enjoying the warmth of his skin so close, his well-known smell that still carried a note of hers after what they had done. She liked that. She had been too fucking long without all this.

If there was anything good coming from what had happened, then maybe that they didn't need to be apart that much anymore. She didn't want to keep spending months and years pretending, there wasn't someone who belonged in her life.

"I feel complete with you", she murmured, her eyes seeking his. "This... this is what I want to keep when the rest goes to hell."

Sitting there with Natasha’s head on his lap, just enjoying each other after, well, enjoying each other, with her making noises that sounded suspiciously like purring while he petted her hair... it was surreal. How how they gotten here? Just yesterday Clint had been close to losing hope that she would show up at all and he had been near to having to figure out his own path forward through what was left of his world. It was a dull, dreary prospect, a path that he couldn’t walk with her or that didn’t lead to her, and he was so fucking glad it was a possibility he no longer had to face.

Her breath tickled his skin but he relished in its warmth, in the feel of her silky hair between his fingers. He felt tired, but in a good way, the kind of body tired one feels after a good workout when one can return home and relax. That was it, really: he felt relaxed for the first time in months.

Looking down at her when she spoke, he couldn’t hide his surprise at her words. They had never expressed it that way before, but now that she said it he realised how true it was. Whenever he was away from her for long periods of time he felt restless and agitated, and it was because he felt incomplete, like a piece of him was missing. “I dunno if I can do the Jerry Maguire thing with a straight face,” he said, one side of his mouth curling up in a lopsided smile. “But yeah, I feel the same.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at him a little at his remark, but she did it with a smile, and next time she turned her head to put her mouth on his leg, she gave his thigh a playful nip.

He looked surprised and why wouldn't he be? It wasn't like her to talk about her feelings, not in such a close and intimate way.

Well, they were close and intimate, they had been for years whenever opportunity had knocked. Maybe she was tired of hiding from someone she shared such a deep bond with. Believing in something for 10 years and ten learn it had all been a lie, had reminded her once more how little securities there were in this world, how dangerous it was to rely on anything. Or anyone.

She should have been all the more aware, especially of people close to her now maybe, expecting they would betray her too... But Clint had had that chance often enough, and not one day since she knew him he had given her reason to doubt him.

"There's no one I trust like you."

She ran her fingertips softly up and down his side and drew tender circles on his chest, tracing every line and every scar with her nails. All him, all hers, all these years of fighting, suffering and winning together. Some things were certain.

"I didn't know how much that is really worth until lately."

Clint chuckled as the next little kiss had teeth. Hey, she couldn’t expect him to be completely serious when he was feeling this damn good, could she? Especially after so long of feeling anything but? But it seemed the whole encounter had a completely different affect on her that he couldn’t just brush off. In all honesty he completely understood that need to talk, to say the things she wasn’t sure she would ever get the chance to say. He had felt that more than once when things had gone wrong but had always swallowed it down. Now, at the end of everything, it was time to say them. She had always been braver than him, but if she could start then the least he could do was be honest back.

“You can always trust me, Nat,” he said, fingers tracing the line of her jaw. “I was loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D. for so long, but when it comes down to it, my loyalties will always lie with you.” No matter where they ended up and who they ended up working for, it was her he would be loyal to above all others. And because he thought she might need to hear it back, he made sure to add, “I trust you too.”

Natasha was honestly fine until his last sentence, relieved and a little melancholic but perfectly happy with the moment and the whole situation right now. And then she suddenly found herself reaching for his hand and press her face against it to hide tears.

"That obviously makes you one of a kind."

She didn't want to sound that bitter but her ability to hide had suffered greatly in the last weeks. And Clint knew her better than to buy a smile right now anyway.

"More than ten years... And I was still the treacherous spy to them. I thought at least Nick knew me better. It doesn't matter where I go, I can't ever escape my past."

Pressing her face to his hand did little to hide her tears when he could feel them burning hot against his skin. He knew she was shaken by everything that had happened, but what she’d done and the consequences of it, but he hadn’t really realised how badly. He understood, of course; he knew what it was like to be mistrusted and looked at differently for something he had done. After New York things had never been the same at headquarters, and without Natasha he wasn’t sure what he would have done.

Now the tables had turned back around once more.

“Hey, we’ll figure it out,” he said softly, caressing her cheek softly with his thumb. He was surprised at the mention of Nick being someone who mistrusted her; the director had taken a real shine to Natasha over the years, but maybe it was more her shady, morally grey qualities that made him like her so much. Not that it really mattered now what he had thought. “You’re not your past, Natasha. You’re so much more than that.” But he knew that wasn’t the issue. She knew who she was, but apparently nobody else did. Nobody but him.

"I don't know who I am anymore."

Natasha tiredly turned her head back to him, not without a kiss to his palm, though, to let him know how much she appreciated it that he still stood with her and tried to comfort her. Clint couldn't undo what had happened, what she - both of them - had done unknowingly for the wrong side for so long, but he was there for her. He still believed in her. Maybe she needed that more desperately than she had realized.

After the heat of recent pleasures slowly subsided, the room suddenly turned cold again, in spite of the fire. Or maybe it was just the memories, the helplessness returning making her tremble. Shivering, Natasha curled her body tighter as if trying to creep into herself, search for the last of energy and warmth there to keep her going, but there wasn't much left. She hadn't ever gone without a clear direction, this was completely new.

"I don't have a plan, Clint", she whispered, choked, fighting a new surge of tears without much success. "I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. to be a better person, to make up for what I've done wrong. Where am I supposed to when there's nothing to fight for left?"

Clint knew that feeling, he had gone through enough identity crises himself and would probably be on his way to another if Natasha hadn’t shown up when she did. She felt it more strongly than him, though; he knew this. She hadn’t been given the chance to make her own choices and decide who she wanted to be until much later in her life than he had, and to find out that the better life she had left her old one for was just as shady, she just hadn’t been aware of it.

Feeling her shiver against him, he grabbed the blanket that still lay nearby and draped it over her. The cold hadn’t settle back over him yet but if they didn’t get up to tend the fire sometime soon then it probably would. He just wasn’t ready to move quite yet.

“There’s always something to fight for,” he said. He hated to hear her sounding so lost, so upset. Things weren’t hopeless, though; not when they were together. “When we fought with the Avengers we weren’t fighting for SHIELD. We were fighting to protect people.” And gods knew there were plenty of people in the world that needed protecting, even when there weren’t a bunch of aliens attacking.

Clint's concern and care had Natasha smile again. She should have known, he'd realize. She nestled against his leg and into the blanket a little more and placed more soft, thankful kisses to his skin. It seemed, Clint never ran out of encouragements and optimism, not when he tried to cheer her up. While she still couldn't see a clear way of where they were heading next, at least he seemed to still have his determination and belief. That had saved her moral before more than once.

His last remark though had her raise an eyebrow at him, with half a grin.

"Thinking about working for Stark? Don't get me wrong, we'd be in good company. Maria and him are up to something. But us? Spandex parade in the 6 pm news?"

Just like that her smile was back and Clint felt his heart lighten. As long as he could still make her smile then everything would be okay, right? And even more so if he could still make her joke around.

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be Stark, but we could protect people,” he said, stumbling over the words a little. It wasn’t even a half baked idea yet, he had barely given it any thought, and while he knew that he should probably do so before talking about it, he had never been the best at thinking before he spoke. “Strike out on our own and be, like, bounty hunters or something.”

He looked a bit sheepish when he glanced down at Natasha, a bit worried about what she might think. “Not that the Avengers thing was a bad gig. We did a good job. Saved the world. We could do that again.”

Natasha didn't feel up to decisions right now, not after having just arrived and still sorting herself out, but Clint's arguments sounded reasonable. Really, there weren't that many possibilities left. What were they supposed to do? Exile on a lonely island? A few surgeries until no one would recognize them anymore and a desk job?

Not a thing for either of them. They belonged in the field. They just had to work the details out. There would be time for that in the next days.

Probably there were worse things then living in Stark Tower. Not many but a few.

"But no capes. And no spandex. At least not outside the bedroom."

She grinned up at him and wiggled a bit on his leg to underline her teasing.

Clint was already digging himself a hole, so he just kept going and would have continued to do so had Natasha not finally put him out of his misery. There would be time to plan later, and for now it was enough to know that they had options. They would survive this like they survived everything; their lives weren’t over, it was just time to start them fresh again.

He gave a goofy grin at her teasing, his hand roaming down to rest on her blanket covered rump, but not before giving it a gentle pat. “I think I can live with that.”

"Yeah? You mean, I get to see you in a french maiden dress soon?"

The way, Natasha bit her lower lip and looked up at Clint from under her lashes, didn't really match her continued teasing. He just couldn't keep his hands to himself, and right now she definitely didn't mind.

After her hands didn't feel like icicles anymore, she untangled them from the blanket and wrapped her arm around his waist again, her head nuzzled comfortably against the juncture of his thigh as if she had every right to be there and tease his skin with her breath and small kisses from time to time. Well, she had to keep him warm somehow since she was occupying the blanket, right?

“There ain’t nobody wants to see that,” Clint replied after a moment of surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that. “I’m kinda lacking in some areas that are sorta required to fill it out.”

Now Natasha he could definitely see in one of those outfits and... damn, that was a nice mental image right there, and she certainly wasn’t helping with the notion of taking a moment to rest up with the way she was looking at him. Then she had to go and nuzzle against him just a little too close for comfort and he sucked in a sharp breath before willing himself to relax as she peppered his skin with kisses. Far too long he had lived without this woman and he determined he had forgotten how to relax. Just by being here she seemed to have cured him of that.

Resting his head against the back of the sofa again, he let his hand trail lazily up her back then down again to give her ass a gentle squeeze before repeating the pattern all over again, adjusting the blanket on the way back up to keep her carefully covered.

Natasha had mercy with Clint's confusion and allowed that chuckle she had held back to reveal the remark as the joke that it was.

"Guess it's me who has to stick with the fancy outfits then, huh?"

She winked up at him and nuzzled into his loins then again, giving the sensitive skin right under his hipbone a teasing bite.

They were already playing with fire again, with Clint's hand repeatedly right there where he could turn her into pudding so quickly, but it was a playful, light dance this time instead of the desperate passion from before. They had time. Not all time in the world, but a little, to enjoy each others presence and recover mentally as well as physically, and she intended to make the best of it.

Most of the time he could tell when she was joking, but sometimes there were things that he wasn’t so sure of because he wouldn’t exactly put it past her to want them. She did have a kinky side, after all, not that he was complaining, though it wasn’t really something they had explored much... yet.

“Mmhmm,” he replied, grinning as she nuzzled and teased him. “All the fancy outfits. Or no outfits at all. I’m good with either.”

Eventually they would have to make a plan, would have to pack up and leave this place, but if for only today they didn’t even get dress then he was A-Okay with that. Being undressed with Natasha was one of his favourite things in the world.

"No clothes at all would be a shame. There's so many nice things to wear... You know, like a corset that ends right here..."

Natasha ran one fingertip leisurely along the underside of her breasts and didn't even try to hide the small shiver the touch elicited. Talking about this didn't exactly help, not being much too hot on him again. Not that there was the need to hold back.

"And maybe leather panties that open right here..."

That fingertip wandered down and dipped shortly between her legs. Even with the blanket between, she sucked in a little breath and bit her lower lip, quickly pulling away before temptation to linger there could be too strong.

"How about we start with an outfit like that and you take all of it off with your teeth?"

Natasha gave him that look from under her lashes again, the innocence in person

His eyes were instantly drawn to the motion of her hand, following greedily as she touched herself and wanting to follow that same path with his own fingers. Her reactions to that very slight touch made his own heart beat fast and had his blood flowing to certain extremities again. So much for resting up, but fuck it. Whatever tomorrow might bring he didn’t care; today was theirs, and why waste it resting? Injuries be damned.

Add that look she was giving him on top of everything else and he was practically panting for her in seconds.

“Sounds like we might have to do some shopping, unless you packed for any possibility,” he said, squeezing her ass a little more firmly this time.

"Shouldn't be a problem. I seem to remember there's some pretty... explicit shops in town."

Natasha sucked in another breath and pressed into the firm touch of his hand gladly, feeling her cheeks flush a little, and that certain warmth coiling right below her spine. She had always loved how Clint and her could go from goofing around to incredibly sexy within a matter of seconds, and especially today, they both needed it equally, if the heat rising from certain body parts close to her wandering lips was any indicator. Well, at least there was no danger of getting cold anytime soon...

With a little purr on her lips, she brought them from his hipbone slowly more to the middle of his body where she could still feel and taste on the tip of her dancing tongue what they had done earlier. For a moment, she just breathed against his skin, dragging out the teasing, to enjoy feeling him get excited for her again, and placed a few open-mouthed kisses here and there.

"Tell me what you feel like doing right now?"

That deep, seductive tone in her voice was back, letting him know she could think of a few things herself of course, but she always liked to hear his ideas.

Clint growled deep in his throat when she reacted so willingly to his touch. He had planned on bunking out here and not leaving until they needed some necessities, but maybe a quick trip into town a little sooner than that might not be such a bad thing...

His breath hitched and he held it a moment before letting his slowly as her breath played over his skin, teasing him and making him shiver, though it had nothing to do with being cold. In fact he was feeling quite the opposite right now.

“Um, well, not to be boring... but maybe we should move somewhere more comfortable first,” he answered, screwing up his face at how lame that sounded. He could have asked her for pretty much anything and she probably would have complied, but she wasn’t the only one who worried. This position hadn’t exactly been easy for her with both their injuries and he figured she could find a much more comfortable one with him flat on his back.

"Told you, you always have the best ideas."

His face was so adorable, Natasha just had to sit up to kiss that frown away. They couldn't stay the whole day in bed of course - though she had a feeling, they would try - because sooner or later they'd have to refuel their energy... But just spending the next hours lazy, enjoying each other and pretend that nothing else existed sounded just about perfect right now.

She untangled herself from that blanket and shook out that arm a little she had just laid on. Then she let her hand travel idly over Clint's chest and down to where his new found interest was very visible by now, giving him a nice firm squeeze before standing up.

"Come on, hotshot."

She made a show of swaying her hips on the way to the bedroom, knowing how quickly that could drive him crazy. They did share a certain preference for specific body parts after all... Once next door, she leaned over the bed a lot deeper than necessary to straighten out the sheets and covers. If he looked close enough, he might actually see that the new rising heat between them didn't leave her unaffected at all...

Natasha wasn’t put off by the possible mood dampener at all, and in fact she reacted rather enthusiastically to the idea. Grinning into the kiss, he sucked in a breath when she let her hand wander, giving him just a brief reminder of what was to come, not that he needed it.

When she got up and walked away he was left watching her with a goofy expression, watching as she put on a show just for him, only for him. Okay, yes, he was the only one there, but that wasn’t the point. When she was like this, teasing and relaxed and oh so real, it was always just for him.

Getting to his feet to follow her, he stopped just inside the doorways a moment to admire the view before stepping forward to run his hands over her perfect ass and grip her hips, pulling her back against him.

Natasha kept up her little show and gasped as if she hadn't felt him near her, turning her head to him with big eyes and her lower lip drawn between her teeth. Of course she made no move to pull away from him, but rather started grinding her ass against his crotch, with that same look of innocence from under her lashes from before.

"Oh, so you're in charge now, hotshot?"

Her voice was all sugared roughness, warm honey on a growl of pure, demanding arousal. An unashamed moan mixed in it when she leaned down even deeper, resting her weight on her shoulders on the mattress, to bring her hands to her bare breasts and squeeze them tightly.

She was very convincing. Had Clint not known her as well as he did he might have bought the innocent act. Well, had he not known her and had that innocent expression matched the rest of her body’s movements, which is most certainly did not. Groaning as she ground against him, his fingers tightened on her hips, keeping her press close.

“I wouldn’t say that...” he replied. Even if he appeared to be in the more dominant position right now it was clear that Natasha was still very much in charge, not that he was complaining. Not one bit.

This was probably the worst position they could be in right now with her resting on her injured shoulder and him standing on that hurt leg, but when she started moaning and touching herself he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away. They should be taking it easy and trying to get back to their top shape for whatever might lie ahead, but she was just too fucking hot like this, practically begging him to take her .

What's left of us (for broken_arrow)

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