Her Hidden Past

- Chapter Sixteen -

Natasha ran down the corridor, turning the corner before she stopped. Trying to draw in a deep breath, she leaned one hand on the wall holding herself upright. Forcing her breathing to slow she reinstated her blank mask before continuing on to the training room. Pulling out her knives one by one, she threw them, each one finding the centre of a target along the wall. Once all her knives were gone she headed for the punching bags. She launched her first punch, quickly following up with several more. Speeding up as her anger grew, against Medvedev, Lisov, herself and even Clint. She knew she had grown weak, caring for other people. Her knuckles split and began to bleed, but she only pushed herself harder.

The door of the gym opened and closed softly. Clint paused just inside the door, eyes taking in the knives perfectly aligned in the centre of each target. He let his eyes flick back to Natasha, though she was facing away from him, he could see the tension in her shoulders that showed she knew he was in the room. Visible to his eyes only, pain shone from every line of her body and she was almost out of breath. Clint called her name softly, worried when she didn't immediately yell at him to leave. He had wanted to follow her immediately but Fury had kept him, trying to understand what Natasha was hiding. Clint had maintained his refusal to speak and Fury had finally let him go. He'd hurried to check her room first, worried what he might find. He'd been relieved to find she wasn't there, until he'd realised he wasn't sure where she would be. He'd headed to the training room first hoping he would find her there rather than having to search the rest of the base for her.

Natasha ignored him, she didn't want him to interrupt her. She sensed him moving closer and heard him call her name again. She continued to punch the bag, ignoring the insistent pain in her shoulder and knuckles.

"Tasha," She heard him breathe her name from a few steps away. She knew he wouldn't leave until she stopped punishing herself. Mere seconds later she felt his arms tighten around her pulling away from the punching bag.

"Piss off, Barton," She hissed as she fought to escape his grip.

"Tasha," He sighed. "Please stop fighting me."

"Let me go," She snapped, stilling.

"No, Natasha," Clint gently pulled her further away from the punching bag. "How's your shoulder?" He tightened his arms as she resumed struggling tiredly against him.

"It's fine," she lied, the pain beginning to burn through her.

"Fury kept me, or I would have been here sooner," He apologised, loosening his grip as she stopped fighting.

"I didn't need you to come, Barton," She shoved him away. He reached for her again attempting to stop her as she moved away. She ducked further out of his reach. Crossing the room she pulled her knives from the targets, slotting each one back into its sheath. She left the gym without a backwards glance, letting the door swing closed behind her.

"Natasha," Clint called, catching the door before it could close. He saw as she wobbled on her feet, immediately he broke into a jog as she had to reach for the wall to steady herself. "Here, Nat, lean on me," He put an arm around her waist.

"I'm fine, leave me alone," She weakly pushed him away.

"You are not fine," Clint snapped back at her, pulling her closer. "You look like you're about to pass out, you've probably broken your stitches." He accused catching sight of how pale she was. He tightened his arm around her, forcing her to lean on him with her uninjured arm around his shoulder so he could support her down the corridors to her room.

"Sit," he ordered. Natasha collapsed onto the edge of the bed silently, having given up pretending that she was fine. Grabbing her first aid supplies he turned catching her glaring at the ring, still sitting exactly as he had left it the night before. "What'd it ever do to you?" Clint asked, as he laid out the supplies. Avoiding any answer she might give he headed into the bathroom and washed his hands. Returning to the bedroom he quickly turned away as he glimpsed Natasha yanking her shirt off.