Kicked off the Hellicarrier?

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I wake up and hear air rushing around me and a mask over my face. Natasha sits beside me asleep. A clock around me says it's almost midnight two days from when I woke Nat. I shake her awake gently and she jumps up. She smiles when she sees me. "Hey there. How do you feel?"

"I feel alright. A little sore but I'm alright. What about you?" I reply.

"Fury won't tell me anything. Your brother is trying to get me thrown off the hellicarrier. He doesn't know I'm in here. I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to hurt you," Natasha apologizes.

"It was my fault. You warned me and I didn't listen. I just didn't want to hear you in so much pain. Help me up," I say.

"You need to rest. You are suffering from loss of oxygen. It was mainly cause by fear and hyperventilating," she explains.

"I won't just sit here as my brother tries to throw you off the Hellicarrier. I need to talk to him. Please."

"Alright, but no straining yourself. I'll carry you on my back." Slowly, I'm unhooked and carried through the halls. Soon we hear a shouting match outside Director Fury's office. I get down and knock on the door.

Fury's gruff voice calls back. "Come in."

I open the door and pop my head in. Clint immediately runs forward and hugs me. "I was so worried. Are you alright?" he asks.

"I'm fine, Clint. I'm perfectly fine. You need to stop trying to get Natasha off the Hellicarrier. She followed every rule. There is no evidence otherwise," I tell him.

"She choked you. She hurt you. How is that not breaking a rule?!" he demands.

"Because it wasn't her fault. It was mine." Clint looks at me confused. "I woke up to a scream. I went to her room to wake her up and help. When she woke up she choked me. She was still stuck in her nightmare. Once she realized what happened she let me go. She didn't mean to hurt me. She warned me earlier and I ignored her."

Recognition dawns on his face and he turns back to Director Fury. "I am sorry for wasting your time, Director."

"Just don't do it again."

Clint and I leave and go to our room. He helps me into a set of pajamas and sends me to bed. "You just rest for now. What happened to you needs time and rest to get better."

My stomach growls. I blush as Clint laughs. "I think food would be good for healing to."

He kisses my forehead. "I'll be right back. You stay in bed." Clint leaves to get the food and I wrap myself in a blanket. After a few minutes, there's a knock at the door.

"Come in!" I call.

Natasha walks through and I smile. "Hey, Nat! What's up?"

"Wanted to make sure you're alright."

"I am fine, no need to worry. Clint just went to get me some food. He probably won't let me get out of bed for a few days. You are not going to be thrown off the Hellicarrier."

"I don't care about a job. I care whether or not you're alright," Natasha says. I pat the bed beside me and she sits there.

"I am perfectly fine. I care whether or not you have a home where you aren't forced to do things you don't want to."

"You said you understood what it was like to be thrown into something new. What did you mean?"

"I was born in Sokovia and grew up there until I was seven. Then everything changed. A bomb hit my home and killed my parents. I was surrounded by fire and couldn't get out, trapped under the bed. It took rescuers hours to get to me. I sat there staring at my mother's dead and lifeless body for that time. They got me out of my room and I fell unconscious from the fire. When I woke up, I was in America. Clint's family adopted me and I was to live with them. I was thrown into a new world, new life. I barely knew the language or how to act. My family was dead, it's been about three years and I still don't know what happened to my friends. I never got to say goodbye."

She gives me a hug. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. It's been a few years since then. I guess I've learned to manage it."

She stand up and heads for the door. "I hope you feel better soon." She leaves and a few seconds later, Clint walks in. We sit and talk for a while, eating, before he makes me go to sleep.

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