study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

Right... Right, the sickness. Nasty but normal. Everything was normal, Natasha was okay... Her and the baby... Getting more awake by the second, Clint quickly realized that he wasn't doing well today with that whole distancing-himself from something that wasn't even a baby, not yet. Maybe it would fade when that pile of bad emotions choking him from his dream would fade, but right now he was just fucking thankful that things were okay. More or less, as much as could be with Natasha feeling sick again...

Oh, right. He quickly let go off her, just carefully caressing her shoulder and arm now, in case she had to go for her bucket quickly, and closed his eyes with a shudder. Everything okay... They were doing good, better than in the whole last days to be exact. No reason to panic.

"Thank you."

He felt a little sick himself right now, but he could feel it slipping away, and it was thanks to Natasha he hadn't had to face even more of these pictures that had already sunk back into oblivion. He was awake enough now to regret that she hadn't gotten more rest in fact.

"Sorry I woke you."

Natasha actually chuckled despite everything at how quickly he let go of her when she mentioned the oncoming sickness. She knew it wasn’t because he didn’t want her getting sick on him, but because he didn’t want to squeeze her too tight or prevent her from moving if the urge to vomit struck her quickly, but it was amusing nonetheless.

Curling up on her side, facing him, she ran her fingertips gently over his cheek, brushing the errant salty drops from his skin. Could be just sweat, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t. “It’s okay,” she said, resting her hand against his face. “Do you want to talk about it?” She wouldn’t push him if he didn’t, but she wanted him to know that the option was always there.

"I don't want to", Clint huffed, with another shudder, and pressed his lips against her palm when just a few fragments of this last dream came back and left just as quickly.

The walls he had built around certain details of that Italy missions was so thick, he could hardly penetrate it even if he tried. From what he could remember by now, though, he was pretty sure, this wouldn't be the last dream like that. Especially with what had suddenly taken Natasha's and his relationship to a whole new level, this subject would come up again and again. It wouldn't get better if he worked himself up every few nights just to suppress it even deeper then.

Unfortunately he didn't really have an idea what to do against it.

"I guess I should but... They fade too fast."

Without letting go off Natasha's hand, he laid back against the mattress and grimaced a little. Nope, tensing up for hours in a position he wasn't used to, hadn't exactly help hes back issues from yesterday.

"Don't know where they're going. Didn't even know I'm that good with blacking out stuff. Maybe I should pull a few S.H.I.E.L.D. files from the network."

He shrugged a little, not sure at all if he really should. Then again, he didn't even have to consider it further anyway.

"Doubt they'd give me anything right now, though. And if they do, it'll just go to my med file again for them to dissect."

She knew what he meant, knew that whatever was haunting his dreams was not something he wanted to discuss, but she appreciated that he didn’t shut her down with a flat out ‘no’. As much as he didn’t want to he was willing to open up to her, and that meant a lot.

She noticed his wince when he laid back down and realised she still had some work to do as the nightmare had clearly aggravated the damage he had done. She listened to him talk. More and more he sounded disenchanted with S.H.I.E.L.D., and she had the feeling that if she told him she never wanted to go back that he would be more than happy to quit. Some days she was pretty sure he was only still there because of her, but it wasn’t something she had been able to bring herself to really ask him flat out.

“You’re obviously still tense, so either lay back on your stomach or sit up so I can work it out, and no arguing this time,” she said, pushing herself up to sit. Her stomach was still behaving for now but she could feel it beginning to churn. “Why don’t you tell me what you do remember. If you remember a little more each day maybe we can piece this together.”

She had her doubts that would be a good thing, though. Clearly he had a lot of fond memories of this place and maybe dredging up whatever he was blocking out would change that, but if it was so bad wouldn’t he have an aversion to this place as well? There had to be something more to it, and if he was going to continue to have these nightmares then they should try to figure them out.

Clint knew that tone in Natasha's voice, knew when it was pointless to argue indeed, so he obeyed reluctantly, sitting up and turning his back to her. He didn't like being a burden for her when she was already feeling sick, but she wouldn't let him out of this either way. And well, he probably still deserved it for being plain stupid yesterday.

Her question though, that was a whole different story that he still wasn't sure he wanted to remember or share. That alone was unusual, because Natasha pretty much knew about all his missions, at least vaguely. But this one had seldom come up, and not only because she had been off on her own duty at that time. He had told her just a few days ago how much he had missed her in these months here, and that was true, but why...

"Hill didn't want you to come with me."

He frowned a little when the words came out of his mouth before he had even thought about it much. If he thought about it, it would only slip away again, that slimy deep black, sharp teethed eel slipping from his conscious mind like it had happened for years now. But if he just tried to piece together a few fragments of his dream... That could work indeed. Even if he didn't want to.

Running from his past was a bad habit he'd indulged in long enough. With the new, their biggest challenge that Natasha and him were facing, he couldn't do that anymore. He needed his body, his brains and his soul intact for this, instead of running around like a zombie every few days because he just couldn't fucking sleep right.

"Right... That was one of our first encounters back then. Fury had just made her God, and if she said something, even Coulson had to shut up. I asked her to send you along with me, because it sounded just so stupid, so dull. You know, spending months on a boat and waiting for some mafia guy to maybe meet with an old HYDRA cell for weapons. First I thought, they still wanted to fuck with me, for bringing you in and all, even years after. But..."

He shrugged a little and hissed with another grimace. Bad idea.

"It wasn't about that guy I think. Maria knew me pretty well at that point already. She knew, I had that talent to fall into trouble that wasn't even my mission. And I just had to go ashore a few times, to not go completely nuts out there in the water. Maria didn't like it of course. But this city here, this area always was pretty safe. The main trouble happens in Catania. Guess they thought, they'd be on the safe side if they let me catch my breath from time to time here... Still Maria wouldn't send you with me, though even Coulson thought it was better."

Again Coulson, and actually that was another painful subject he didn't want to bring up at ass o'clock in the morning. Hell, he hadn't even come to talk about what this thing was his superiors had tried to keep him from. Or why the hell he couldn't remember it. And still he was already feeling like shit.

Without surprise he saw that he had started scratching these small little cuts from his own fingernails and Liho's claws all over his arms without even realizing. So many long months, and sometimes it still stabbed him ice cold from behind. More than ever he wished, Coulson would have still been available to call in such moments. He wouldn't have hesitated to help him remember without judging him.

"Guess they knew I would only get you in trouble even back then or something."

Although she could tell that he wanted to argue Clint knew better and soon was sitting up so she could get at his back. Positioning herself behind him she started at his neck and worked as gently yet efficiently as she could.

His opening sentence was a surprise and her hands faltered for a brief second. Why would Hill specifically want her absent from this mission? He must have meant it another way. Keeping silent she just let him talk, let him work it out for himself. In the end he didn’t really have an answer, and she was left with more questions than anything. She had been elsewhere at the time, but not the entire time, and her mission hadn’t been anything someone else couldn’t have covered. She could have easily accompanied Clint on this one had Hill seen fit, but for some reason she had made sure that didn’t happen.

Of course the mention of Coulson just made everything worse, and Natasha momentarily abandoned the massage and wrapped her arms around Clint instead, pressing her lips to the space between his shoulder blades. “You were the one that got me out of trouble,” she said, nuzzling against his warm skin. “Maybe she thought I would be too much of a distraction on a mission that held very little stimulation.”

Clint shivered when Natasha's lips hit his skin, but unlike most of the times, it wasn't out of pleasure or excitement. For a second he could see it clearly, knew where this one, very faint scar came from. But as soon as he tried to concentrate on it, it was gone, with only the stale metallic taste of blood left in his mouth, and that dreadful cold feeling of past horrors in his gut.

"Right there."

He reached back, relieved to feel that it worked a lot better after Natasha had had her hands on him, and rubbed that bright, insensible patch of skin he so seldom remembered, simply because it was right in a blind spot.

"That's where I can't piece it together. This doesn't come from a fat incompetent mafia dealer. Hell, that guy probably shat himself when he saw me for the first time and left for Tansania or another safer place. Never heard of him again. I know I've stumbled into something else here, something where Hill didn't want me in from the start, and you even less, but I can't grab it. Not yet."

He leaned back into her embrace with a sign and ran his hands softly up and down her thighs, letting her know how good it felt to have her close after such a night. To have someone to confide in.

"Give me one or two nights of sleeping shitty more and maybe I can come up with the rest, I guess. I just know it wasn't pretty."

He turned his head to kiss Natasha's temple and sighed quietly.

"I'm good, red, thanks. I need to remember more often how good a therapist you are."

Natasha leaned back a little and examined the scar under his fingertips. She remembered that scar, of course; she also remembered being livid when she returned from her own mission to find Clint had been injured. She hadn’t been given many details, and while the thought of hacking into the mission files had come to mind she had pushed it off. If he wanted her to know he would tell her.

She hadn’t considered that it wasn’t that easy.

Holding him close against her she offered what comfort she could with her embrace. She knew better than anyone what it was to have memories so close yet just out of reach. There were things from her past she didn’t remember, memories that had been taken from her, others that had been implanted to take their place. There were times she wasn’t sure if any of her childhood was real, but she had gotten past it all enough that most nights the dreams didn’t keep her up. Most nights.

“One of my many talents,” she said, kissing his neck, then his shoulder before resting her chin there. “And my door is always open for you.” She wanted to listen to him, wanted him to open up to her, and it meant more than she could say that he did without her pressing him. “Do you think you can get back to sleep?” She didn’t even know what time it was, but considering how early they had gone to bed last night she predicted an early morning anyhow. Maybe, if her stomach cooperated, they could get a walk in before it got too hot. Or they could go and claim their spot on the beach, maybe try to find an umbrella somewhere to sit under for a break from the sun.

"Early morning sleep is not exactly helpful lately. I think I'll acclimate a little more and take a siesta later."

Clint nuzzled his cheek against her, enjoying the moment, the closeness that felt so damn good after the emotional roller coaster yesterday. His hands rested softly on her arms, caressing her softly without holding her, in case she had to move away fast. Judging from the pale color of her cheeks, it probably wouldn't take too long.

"How are you holding up? Need water or something?"

Natasha thought she could be happy just holding him like this for a couple of hours, especially after the past two days of tension, but she knew that wasn’t in the cards. Her stomach was protesting and she knew it wouldn’t be long before it revolted completely.

“Since I’m already up I think I will just go wait out the inevitable,” she said, kissing him again before reluctantly letting go. Tying her hair back out of the way she headed for the bathroom.

Since they were already up, Clint could as well take care of the necessary. Just as lazily dressed as yesterday he went to the kitchen, always with an ear to the bathroom, in case Natasha needed help, and prepared breakfast for Liho.

Even while he was still on it, he heard the familiar meowing outside and shook his head a little, rolling his eyes. Much too used to it already. He'd have to talk to Angelina sooner or later about little one, make plans for when they were leaving. His housekeeper would hopefully keep an eye on her, that would make the good-bye a little easier. Somehow he tended to stumble into certain caretaker situations lately, without really knowing how it had happened...

This time he made very sure that there wasn't anything breakable or eatable in the living room before he let little one in. He could have fed her outside of course, but since Natasha was already hugging the toilet again, maybe she would feel a little better with the kitten near.

It was too early and Natasha probably too sick, so he didn't bother with breakfast for them, only got two new water bottles ready and then busied himself a little with sweeping a small layer off dust from the furniture. And of course there was already kitten hair too.

"You could really clean up after yourself, you know", he grumbled in Liho's direction but wasn't rewarded with more than a twitch of her tail.

Laying a towel on the floor to sit on, Natasha spent some time just resting her head against the toilet seat and willing the sickness to go away, but eventually it reared its ugly head again. At least she had considerably more in her stomach this morning, which strangely seemed to help.

Ten weeks. That was roughly two and a half months, which meant she had at least another six months of this to go through. Hopefully, her mind tagged on and she couldn’t help but laugh despite everything, though it wasn’t necessarily a happy laugh. Imagine, hoping to be this sick every day, but the alternative... she would take the sickness, she would take it all day, every day if she had to rather than go through that again.

She could hear Clint moving around in the kitchen, heard the front door and figured their little guest was in for breakfast, unless Angelina had decided to stop by. The woman hadn’t surprised them by showing up yet, though, so Natasha figure she knew they were private people and didn’t go for surprise visits.

When she was once again spent Natasha flushed the toilet and folded her arms on the seat to rest her head on again. She wasn’t sure it had passed yet and didn’t want to risk moving, though a shower sounded really good right about then. Maybe just a couple more minutes.

Natasha was gone longer than the day before and though Clint really did try not to worry and coddle her, after a while he grew restless.

"You behave", he growled at Liho but still didn't get much of a response. Fortunately he found that ringing ball the kitten had played with in a corner and rolled it in her direction for after breakfast. That way he could hear at least if the little devil was up to no good again.

But then his attention was solely on Natasha. He didn't want to suffocate her with too much worry and quietly knocked instead of just entering.

"Need a little help there, red?"

Natasha listened to the quiet sounds in the kitchen, the soft tinkling of Liho’s toy bringing a soft smile to her lips. It wasn’t much longer before the knock on the door.

“Come in,” she said, opening her eyes to look at the door as Clint entered. “Just taking a nap,” she joked though she looked tired enough. It wasn’t really tired so much as weak, and it would pass once she was able to eat again. “Leaving the little one alone out there again? You’re asking for trouble.”

"A room can be fixed."

Clint just shrugged and closed the door behind him. It wasn't exactly a new sight by now, but it still hurt seeing Natasha like this. Here was hoping this wouldn't last for much longer. And holding on to the small, relieving satisfaction that this was normal, completely normal, that everything was as alright as could be. They could get through the inconveniences together.

He gently got his arms around her, keeping them away from her stomach, and helped her sit on the bath tub edge, just like yesterday. The throwing up had left its toll and he remembered that she hadn't been in a mood for showering yesterday already, so that probably was the best start for the day.

"Want me to help you?"

He nodded inside the shower shortly and handed Natasha her water bottle, softly caressing her sweat covered cheek with his thumb.

Natasha hated appearing so weak to anyone, but Clint was the only one she really allowed to see her this way. For anyone else she would lock the door or suck it up and carry on no matter how difficult that task was, but not for Clint. He got to see her as she truly was, got to see all her faults and fears. He was the only person who truly knew the real Natasha, and there was no point trying to make herself strong and presentable for him.

She let him help her up and gratefully took the bottle of water. Taking a few small sips she closed her eyes a moment as the cool water soothed her burning throat. After a moment she nodded in response. Clint never made her ask for help, he was always there to offer it if he thought she might need it. It was always easier to accept help than to ask for it.

"Come on, let's get cleaned up. We both need it."

Clint knew only too well how much Natasha hated to be weak - a trait they had always shared - and tried not to make much of an issue of it. And it wasn't. It wasn't the first time and it certainly wasn't a punishment. At least it gave him the feeling, he could help her out a little, while she carried the main burden in all this.

He quickly got rid of these pants he had just put on and climbed in the tub to turn on the shower and find a nice comfortable temperature, then he softly coaxed Natasha to turn around, sit on the inside of the edge, and pulled the curtain close so they wouldn't get everything wet. Then he simply pulled her in his arms and helped her stayed upright with one arm firmly held around her ribcage, while the warm water washed over them both, washing away the last of stupid dreams and stain from nausea.

"Something special you want on your skin?", he murmured against her neck.

Natasha stayed seated on the edge of the tub while Clint undressed and climbed into the tub to mix the water. She certainly wasn’t going to complain about the view, even if she really didn’t have the energy to do anything about it.

When he pulled her into his arms she went gladly, wrapping her own arms around his shoulders and leaning into him. She hadn’t planned on washing her hair again but she didn’t even try to keep it out of the spray of water as she leaned her head against him and closed her eyes.

“You mean besides your skin?” she couldn’t resist teasing despite everything.

"We can do something about that later."

Clint chuckled into her ear, a little on the rough side to tease her back but concentrated on his job then again. Getting clean was the plan here.

Though he still felt that damn murder workout from yesterday, it was easy to keep Natasha upright with one arm and reach for the shower gel. Even if he wasn't feeling at his full physical best, it took more than a little muscle soreness to compromise the strength in his arms. That definitely came in handy now.

He took his time lathering up Natasha's back and arms but didn't lose too much time when he came to working her butt, going on straight to her thighs. Grabbing her a little tighter against him, he coaxed her to bend her leg and rest it on the bath tub to coat her lower leg and foot with the softly smelling foam, quickly to not exhaust her when she was already feeling weak. After repeating the same on the other side, he turned her carefully in his arms and got a new dollop of gel to spread on her chest on stomach. Here he was even more careful, fingers barely touching her, especially on her stomach, since she didn't exactly look like she was feeling better. Finally his hand slipped gently between her legs, nearly clean of lather, with just the smallest of pressure, to finish the thorough clean up.

"Better?"

He pressed a small kiss to her neck and softly caressed her hip with his fingertips while the water washed down the lather.

"Do you need your hair washed?"

She smiled at the response, that rough note to his voice never failing to at least make her shiver. Now was certainly not the time, though.

Clint’s strength had always been impressive, especially in those gorgeous arms of his, and while Natasha hated showing weakness, she could think of worse places to be right now than in those strong arms while he rubbed soap all over her skin. She lifted her feet when he asked and only reluctantly loosed his arms from around him so she could turn around and let him wash her front. He touched her so softly, so carefully, and never once gave into temptation. He really was an amazing man, and she felt almost overwhelmed by how lucky she was to have him.

Must have been the hormones she always heard pregnant women talk about.

“No, I think it’s fine,” she said, leaning back against him. “Hope to go swimming later anyway, if I can still fit into my bikini.” Reaching back she threaded her fingers through his hair. “Want me to clean you up next?”

"That's not a question of want, red."

Clint chuckled against her ear and bit her earlobe softly but made no move to let go off her yet. Of course it would have been nice, he always loved it when Natasha was touching him. But she shouldn't think she had to, when she wasn't feeling well.

"Or, you know, you can just sit and watch the show. I know you hate it when I worry too much."

He felt his cheeks flush a little and sighed, shrugging so she could feel it.

"Kick me or something if it gets too much. It's just... You have to deal with this crap every morning already, and maybe it helps you more taking it easy until your stomach is better. We can do this here as often as you like, okay? I just want to do whatever I can to help you."

She appreciated his honesty, and she appreciated that he worried about her; she had never really had anyone care enough about her before to worry, but he was right in that it got on her nerves eventually. It was nice to have someone worry, but she hated being treated as fragile, especially when he knew how strong she was.

Turning in his arms again, she wrapped her own around his neck and kissed him softly. She had to give him a little leeway here, because while he worried, she also knew it was a feeling of helplessness that was making it worse. It was her body, she was the one who had to go through all these changes, all the pain and sickness and everything that went with it while he could do little more than watch. He couldn’t take any of it away, couldn’t really make it better, but he wanted to help, needed to be useful, and she had to allow him that.

“Thank you,” she murmured against his lips, slowly opening her eyes to peer up at him. “It helps just having you here, not having to do it alone.”

"Always."

Clint cupped her neck to pull her in for another light, loving kiss after a short breath of relief. At least she hadn't ripped his balls off. It would be a fine line to balance in the next months, between trying to provide what she needed and keep his distance. But as long as they kept talking to each other, honestly, they would handle it.

As good as it felt standing under the warm spray and let it wash away what was left of soreness in his muscles, they should at least try and save a little water, especially when they were going to the beach later anyway.

Forgoing further discussion, Clint reached for his own bottle of shower gel, opened the lid with trained, skilled movements of two fingers and held it out to Natasha then with a smile.

"Offer still standing?"

Communication really was the key, and while it had been a long, hard road getting there, they were finally in a place where they could talk through practically anything. That would be very important over the coming months.

When he held the bottle out to her Natasha smiled softly at him. As much as he worried he was trying to let her decide what was too much for her, and she had to give him credit for that. Taking the bottle, she poured a little of the gel into her hands and lathered them. Wrapping her arms around him she worked the lather over his back first before taking a step back to get his front. She was quick, efficient, using no more time, touch, not pressure than required. As tempting as it was to linger on certain body parts it wouldn’t be fair to start something now that she didn’t intend to finish, so she behaved, keeping the shower not quite clinical but wasting no time either.

“Now what do you say to some breakfast?” she said, reaching behind him to turn off the water. It seemed almost silly to get clean before getting covered in sand and sunscreen again, but it felt nice. And maybe they could avoid the sunscreen today. Spend some time at a covered café, maybe check the library for some informative books, and then head to the beach in the evening once it was cooler and not as crowded.

Breakfast sounded better than Clint had expected after days of not being hungry at all. His stomach gave the answer before he could, and he rolled his eyes at it with a chuckle.

"Sounds like a good idea apparently."

He pulled Natasha close for another kiss and murmured a thanks but let go off her quickly then. Her damp, flushed body all pressed into his after she had just touched him so thoroughly, that would only have brought up naughty thoughts, and there wasn't room for those right now. He reached past the curtain for towels for both of them and quickly dried off before getting back in the pants from before.

"Well, that is if Liho hasn't empty the fridge", he added with a mock-frown. "By now I wouldn't put it past her. See if you got a hold of her, red? She's got a few more days of pills before her."

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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