Marvel Oneshots

Ao3 | Clintasha? | It's Quite Alright

Post IW
Touch of angst
Author says it's Clintasha, but I can't see it, whatever

"They're gone" was all Clint could muster when he saw Natasha trudging up the driveway to the farmhouse they had once shared together. He could feel the Quinjet in the distance (his BTE's had been stashed in his pocket since "it" had happened. He couldn't help but feel bitter at it all, and now, the constant reminder of everything he had lost was coming up, the short blonde hair Natasha had been sporting for her time rogue and undercover.

"Clint, look, I'm so- "she started, before Clint laughed, pointing to his ears before putting his BTE's back in, and just kept up his nearly hysterical laughter.

"Tasha, save it. Save how this is all your guys fault or how you couldn't come and get me. Us. What'd you think? Leaving behind the two greatest marksmen in human history? And honestly, barney throws an okayish punch." He said, before sighing. "Threw, I guess. "And in that moment, Natasha saw what Clint had been clutching in his hands. A set of dog tags, but with two additions. She recognized the tags: they were Barneys from his last deployment. The arrow pendant had been Kate's, a gift Natasha had given her on her 21st birthday the year before. And the dog tag was Lucky's. And there was nothing on the farm. No noise. No movement.

"They're gone, Nat. Just faded into fucking dust and I don't know why. My brother, only family I had left. Kate. That girl was the closest I'm ever gonna get into putting positive into the world, and who knows how many times I screwed up trying to help her. Lucky. My dog, Natasha. My damn dog is dead. Vaporized. I don't care what happened. I don't care who did it. Let me just be here, alone, Nat. It's clear you stopped caring a long time ago. My family is dead, and I'd like to mourn in peace." He bit out, appraising Natasha before returning to his farmhouse, slamming the front door behind him.

In the distance, the Quinjet was powering down. She saw Stark, Steve, Thor, and Bruce disembark, and they were coming to see something they had never seen. None of them had ever really known Clint, deep down. None had visited the apartment in Bed-Stuy. None of them probably had a clue about how much he and barney and Kate did around the city of New York (and, intrinsically, the local Iowa county his farm was in), taking care of things they deemed "to small" to care about. Because they were the big guns, and they had all failed at doing that.

The others had given her plenty of time, maybe 30 minutes to let her mull in her own thoughts before they approached her. Steve was first to her, and she couldn't really help the anguish she knew was on her face.

"So, he's mad, and honestly I did this to myself. You know?" she said, and she just walked and sat down on the porch of the farmhouse, leaning her head against the post.

"You wanted him to be safe, Red. Not entirely unprecedented, since his house arrest violation would call in the National Guard or Navy SEALs or something." Tony said, in his most placating and sympathetic manner. Not much, but it was his best.

"You guys don't know it all, and honestly, I don't either. I just, left. Things were great, him and Kate were making strides in patching up their weird father/daughter thing and in all honesty, when we fought each other, I thought maybe that we could move on from there. But the raft. And then when I didn't take the deal, because I chose to keep avenging and he just wanted to settle down. And now he hates me, and his family is gone." Natasha lamented before repressing her tears.

"Natasha, you'll never not be that stubborn smart asses dream woman, you make him happy. He is hurt. That dog was a noble companion that would brave even the molten depths of Muspelheim for Clint, just to growl at the mighty Surtur and defend him. Kate Bishop was as fierce a warrior as any Valkyrie, and she was his second greatest legacy, after his kind heart. I met the elder Barton once before, and he seemed a strong warrior, but I know first hand even the most combative of brothers is fully capable of being loving and noble in their own way. He will despair, but we will save them. We will take the fight to Thanos, rip that gauntlet from his stupid purple hand and fix this all. Kate. Loki. Heimdall. Barnes. All of them." Thor bellowed before taking his seat opposite her, resting Stormbreaker on the compacted earth and taking a long look at the sunset of the new world.

"Well, big guy, if the plan is to go to space and kick ass, I'm in." Clint said.

He had emerged from the farmhouse, dressed in black military fatigues, body armor, and a sword was strapped to his back. Gone were the arrows, the bow, and his trademark purple. His normally unkempt hair had been trimmed into a close-cropped buzz, like the pictures Natasha had seen of him from his own stint in the Army. He had the mementos of his lost ones on his brother's dog tags, which hung on his neck. And joining them was the ring he had given Natasha before she had left.

"Good to have you on board, Hawkeye." Steve said, and Clint just shook his head.

"Not Hawkeye anymore, Cap. He's permanently retired." Clint said, giving his old friend a small smile before throwing his gear bag onto his shoulder and making his way for the Quinjet. "I'm thinking Ronin. Somebodies gotta use Barneys sword, now that he's gone. And it's going straight into Thanos chest." He said, no emotion in his voice, and the others followed him.

"My friend, I recommend the head." Thor said, clapping him on the back as they made their way toward the parked Quinjet, Tony and Bruce following behind.

"He'll come around, Natasha, just give him time, okay?" Steve said, offering his hand to Natasha, as they began to make their way behind the rest of their group.

Anyone else would see the calm and impassive face she put forth for the world to see, but for Steve, he saw the tension in her back and the hardened look in her eyes.

"You'll get him back, Natasha."

"For the first time in my life, with Clint, I really don't know." She said, and they made their way after the others, on to take asses and kick names, so to speak.