Confessions of Fangirl

Title: Stronger Together
Characters: Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton
Genre: mostly friendship, a little bit of angst
Fandom: Marvel Movie Verse
Summary: Natasha struggles after the battle with Thanos.
Rating: PG
Pairings: Natasha/Darcy
Warnings/Spoilers: None.

Thanks to Rebby for helping me clean this up though, I'm sure I've still got a few mistakes in there. Obviously I don't own these characters but this story is just for fun and not for profit.

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Natasha wasn’t usually one to think much of sore muscles or a few bruises, but she was trying desperately to find an inch of her, hell, a centimeter of her, that didn’t hurt right now. Thanos had reigned down fire and brimstone and aliens that made the Chitauri seem like cuddly, oversized, overly enthusiastic puppies who just needed a walk. The medic had looked her over and wanted to take her to the hospital, but she didn’t do hospitals if she could help it. Plus there were so many people out there who needed the hospital more than she did. She’d heal soon enough anyway. The Red Room may not have been able to get the same serum that HYDRA used on Barnes, but they hadn’t left her unaltered.

She’d always healed faster than others. Clint knew and always said he was jealous. Darcy knew, too, of course. It didn’t seem to make Darcy feel any better, but Natasha hadn’t wanted the two of them to have secrets. There were some things Natasha would never be able to share, but those weren’t her secrets. Regardless of what some of her handlers had thought in the past, it was Natasha’s choice to share or not share that little bit of information.

The serum did usually need food or at least some kind of fuel which meant she needed to eat, but getting off this park bench in the middle of a once again devastated New York City didn’t appeal right at the moment. She’d have to move eventually, but she laying on one of the few still intact benches seemed like a good idea for at least a little bit longer.  

She felt the vibrations on her wrist letting her know all was well at home and her gut twisted, the guilt from what she put Darcy through, again and again, weighing heavily on her. Darcy was joy and humor and kisses that tasted like pop tarts. Natasha was sarcasm and violence, and blood covered hands.

“You know, Romanov, you could’ve told me Darcy kicked you out. You know you can crash with the kids and me. I won’t let my kids’ favorite aunt be homeless.” Clint’s voice jarred her out of her thoughts.

“Fuck off, Barton.”

“Scoot,” Clint told her affably, ignoring her bitten off curse. Natasha lifted herself, wincing at the pain in her ribs. Thankfully Clint was quick to get settled so she could drop her head into his lap. She made sure not to hit any special, sensitive spots, but Clint still grunted a little in protest. Served him right for being a jackass. And scaring the shit out of all of them with that last stunt off a moving aircraft. After a few moments of quiet and adjusting to their new positions, Clint stroked her hair. It felt nice, and she was grateful for the contact.

“How did you end up unhurt?” Natasha asked.

“I’m just that good.”

“I hate you, and everything hurts.”

“You love me, actually; I’m your only friend. And don’t whine, you’ll be okay soon.”

“Like you have so many friends yourself.”

They stayed on the bench in silence again for a while. It was nice to have her friend here. She thought she felt a couple of her toes heal since they didn’t hurt so much anymore. She just hoped they’d repaired correctly and she wouldn’t have to break them to put them back in place. That was her least favorite thing besides Thanos and post-battle depression.

After a few minutes, Clint broke the silence. “Do you know if Darcy is okay?”

“Yeah, she’s safe and sound.”

“You talked to her?”

“Tony modified the technology in those bond bracelet things--the ones that if you touch yours, the person who has the other can feel it--so that she and I could keep in touch. The bracelets only communicate with each other. It’s just little buzzes and taps, but we have a sort of shorthand morse code. No one would know if she’d sent an emergency message.”

“You’re sure?”

“Oh, absolutely. Darcy knows how to make an S.O.S. look like an “all good” to anyone, but me.”

“Good. And how are you?”

“I need food. Think we can call for a pizza?”

“Even if half the city wasn’t currently rubble, I’m not sure if anyone delivers to random park benches.”

“If Tony gave them a big enough tip they would.”

“Yeah, you can ask him if you want, but I’m still not talking to that guy.”

“Clint, you talked to him literally five minutes ago.” Natasha was exasperated.

“No, Tony talked, I grunted. That is not the same thing.”

“Your family is fine. I know he threatened them, but everyone is fine now. Plus, he gave you an honest to God apology and some really nice new tech.”

“It’s the principle of the thing.”

“God, you’re stubborn.”

“I’m stubborn? Who is sitting on a park bench avoiding going home to their woman?”

“That’s both of us, Clint. I don’t see you rushing home.”

“I’m here because I’m a good friend, and you’re in need.”

“Yeah, in need of food.”

“Go home to your woman, Natasha, she’ll make you some food. And nurse you back to health. Oh,” Clint dragged out “oh” like he was Andrés Cantor. “I bet Darcy would look hot in one of those old-fashioned nurse outfits.”

“Shut up, Clint.”

“No, seriously! I think that will be my Christmas present to you this year; a sexy nurse costume for Darcy.”

Natasha smacked Clint in the chest, but she doubted he felt it through his new armor especially since the injuries to her ribs were still keeping her from moving well. “Stop. God, you’re awful. Why are we friends?”

“Because if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have any other friends. In all seriousness, Nat, you know she’s worried about you right now.”

“Which is why I can’t go home just yet. She’ll be frantic if I come home this banged up. I just need to let the healing kick in a bit. Then I’ll go. Besides, I can’t move until my ribs knit back together a bit.”

“What’s really going on?”

Natasha exhaled hard. She couldn’t look at Clint, so she turned her face out to the upheaval around them and then closed her eyes. “I’m not good enough for her. Seriously, why is she with me? She could have anyone she wanted.”

Clint didn’t say anything for the space of a few breaths.

In the wake of the violence and the terror, the city was unnaturally quiet. The area had been cleared of civilians during the fighting and the military, police force, and emergency personnel were working to make sure people were getting the help they needed. The world around Natasha and Clint was quiet in a way that it shouldn’t be and curling in the air was smoke that tasted like acid and stung her lungs.  

Finally, Clint spoke again. “What would Darcy say if you told her that you thought she was too good for you?”

Natasha made a choked off snorting noise that hurt her ribs and sent a reverberation of pain through the rest of her body. She fought not to groan and mostly succeeded. “Darcy would tell me that I’m an idiot and that even if I was somehow right this one time about this one thing that it would still be her choice whether or not to be with me.” Natasha sighed. “Then she would add that if I didn’t want to be with her anymore that I would have to ‘woman the hell up’ and break-up with her for legitimate reasons. I am, apparently, not allowed to blame breaking up with her on something dumb like my perceived inadequacies.”

“It sounds like you’ve had this discussion with her already,” Clint mused with an impression of laughter in his voice.

“Maybe once or twice.”

“Is it always after you help save the world?”

“Barton--” Natasha started but, Clint wouldn’t let her finish.

“I get it. We do a lot of killing, and a lot of people get hurt, even as we’re trying to save them. No amount of good we do in the world ever makes up for the lives we’ve ended. But spare me the ‘red in your ledger’ routine, Nat, and stop believing your own bullshit. Darcy knows who you are. She sees you and the things you’ve done, love isn’t that blind.”

“She must be crazy.”

“Well, maybe. But aren’t we all?”

Natasha laughed, then groaned.

“Natasha, you just helped save the world. A-fucking-gain. Yeah, you’ve got some extra healing abilities us normal humans don’t have, but we were just up against some kind of super-being-alien, and you didn’t even hesitate to fight against him. You have the biggest fucking balls of anyone I know and a heart to match, even if you like to pretend you’re disinterested and untouched.”

“Stop, you’re making me blush.”

“Come on,” Clint coaxed. “I’ll help you up.” He slid out from underneath her, working hard not to jar her too much. Sure, her ribs weren’t screaming at her anymore, but she wasn’t Wolverine, and she still felt like she’d been hit by a truck. He was gentle about pulling her to a sitting position too, and she was thankful she didn’t have to ask him to let her sit there for a minute and adjust.

“You should really get Darcy a gift on the way home as a peace offering.”

“Shit, how am I getting home?”

“I stole one of those little alien hoverbikes. I’ll give you a lift.”

“Fantastic,” Natasha sighed partly in relief, partly in worry over how shitty the ride was going to be considering the shape she was in and how little practice Clint had likely had at flying the damn thing. This was going to be fun.

“Oh and I brought you this,” Clint handed her a protein bar from his jacket.

“You couldn’t have handed me that ten minutes ago?” she asked, grabbing it from his hand.

“I had to make sure you were too injured to fight me or leave in the middle of my speeches.”

“I really hate you.”

“Eat, then I can take you home.”

“Thanks, Barton.” Natasha chewed the bar and breathed out hard in relief now that her body had something to fuel the healing process. When she’d finished eating she tapped on her bracelet to Darcy and smiled when Darcy’s reply, “Hurry home,” danced against her wrist.