Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

[study_in_scarlet]

They didn’t get a lot of time off together, at least not enough to make a trip away worthwhile, so for this one weekend they decided to stay in the city and play tourist for the day.

They had started with a walk through Central Park before grabbing an early lunch at one of the city’s many street vendors and then wandering through the American Museum of Natural history. Natasha found the Hall of Minerals fascinating while Clint had gotten a kick out of all the dinosaur bones. They both enjoyed laying under the big blue whale with all the normal people.

Afterwards they went to a nice restaurant for supper, blending into the crowd of normal couples as best they could and Natasha actually forgot if she was playing a role or being herself as they finished their wine and shared their desserts.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely as they left the restaurant, stepping back into the cool night air. Nearby a busker played guitar and sang with surprising melody and soul, barely seeming to notice as people threw change into his open case, so caught up was he in his music.


Comments

[study_in_scarlet]

It wasn’t as bad as last time without all the stress of their fight adding to it, but it wasn’t as easily explainable either. It could no longer be blamed on jetlag or food poisoning, but maybe a bug of some sort or too much sun the day before. Maybe, but deep down Natasha knew it wasn’t true. Deep down she knew the truth, she remembered from long ago, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe it. For over a decade she had been told it wasn’t possible, that it couldn’t happen for her ever again, so as much as her body was trying to tell her yes, her head was still very much in the ‘no’ camp.

She had hoped that Clint wouldn’t follow her, but she knew there was no way he’d stay in bed while she was sick and miserable; she hadn’t been that convincing and the house was too silent not to hear her. Once he was there, though, she was glad for his presence, for the soothing way he rubbed her back and the considerate way he held her hair. When she had finished she wiped her mouth with a bit of tissue and let Clint wrap his arms around her. She didn’t return the embrace, but she did sag against him, trying to prepare herself for the inevitable talk. She wanted to refuse, to say it was nothing, but she knew there was no way out of it this time. He wouldn’t let it go, and worse than fighting with him about it was the way he would treat her if he did agree to let it go. He would treat her like glass, watching her every movement for a sign of sickness, for the lies she would use to cover how she was really feeling. There was really only one option: she had to go.

“Or both,” she said, her voice thick. “I can...” she paused to clear her throat. “You can drop me at the hospital and go to the vet while I’m there.” She knew it would be a hard sell, but it would be easier that way, easier if she could get the news first, on her own.

[farmboyhawk]

"Whatever you prefer."

Clint tried hard to keep the worry out of his voice, without much success. Natasha not protesting against seeing a doctor told him all he needed to know. She didn't only look bad, pale and distraught, she felt like it. And maybe only because he had come up with the idea of this country of all places. He pushed the thought away, because self-reproach certainly didn't help anyone right now. Still holding Natasha with one arm, he reached out to flush and put down the toilet lit, then carefully helped her to her feet to sit down on it.

He didn't like the way she looked, at all. She was chewing on something she didn't want to tell him and while he had refused to coddle her in the last days, by now he couldn't ignore it anymore. Maybe they could talk about it on the way. Right now he wanted her with someone who could take care of her body. The rest was his job.

"You okay for a moment alone, red? I'll go get the furball and ask Angelina for a few names in that hospital. Just to make sure you'll be with someone who knows what he's doing."

[study_in_scarlet]

He hadn’t succeeded at all, Natasha could tell he was worried. She should have argued a little, shouldn’t have agreed so quickly, but she didn’t have the energy to fight with him this morning, especially not when she knew he was right. It had been a few days and it certainly wasn’t the flu, so it was time to suck it up and go to the doctor.

Her legs felt shaky and weak as Clint helped her up to sit on the toilet, and she caught the edges of his sweater between her fingers and wrapped it more securely around herself.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, smiling at him, but it was a hollow gesture. “I’ll just get myself ready, you take care of our little one.”

Our little one. She had meant to say the little one but it hadn’t come out right, her mind was on other things.

[farmboyhawk]

"I'll make it fast."

And Clint meant to, but he took a second to lean down and place a soothing kiss on Natasha's forehead anyway before he went back to the bedroom. Quickly but not overly hurried to not make Natasha nervous on top of feeling bad already. He grabbed two pairs of short pants, shirts and underwear for both of them and brought Natasha her pile while already angling his way into his own clothes. He was as good as out of the room when he stopped, hesitating, but he followed his instinct and reached for her hand for another moment.

"And Nat... You don't need to smile for me when you're feeling bad, okay?"

He pressed her hand softly and managed a smile that was at least a little more convincing than hers a second ago. They should know each other better than having to put up any kind of mask, that was all he wanted her to know. It wasn't like hadn't seen her sick or injured before, as seldom as it had happened. He could deal with that.

Right now she could need a bit of help though, so he kept his promise of hurrying up. He just paused in the kitchen to quickly fill a bowl of milk for the kitten so it could feed while he went for Angelina's advise. The kitten- their kitten, or something, as Natasha had put it, and for some silly reason that had him grinning in spite of all. Especially when he left the house and saw furball already waiting for him.

"You won't be all that happy with me soon", he sighed when the animal started strolling around his legs at once. Only a short pat of its little head he allowed himself when he put the bowl on the porch, then his thoughts were already with his next visit.

As expected, he found his target only a few steps from his house on her morning walk, and when he came back with the acquired list of trustworthy doctors, his mood had quite hit the bottom. To get that list, he of course had had to describe at least vaguely what was happening, and the first question Angelina had come up, hadn't exactly soothed his fluttering nerves.

Of course he had considered that possibility, very vaguely, once or twice in the last days but pushed it away immediately, scoffed at the idea... Physically impossible, that was what Natasha had told him, he had seen it in her medical file too.

Ridiculous. His protective instincts combined with the heat got to his head, that was all. Because that other possibility, as small as it was, that Natasha's body was playing an evil trick on them, was too terrifying to even consider. Natasha had gone through this horror once before in the past, from all he knew, and even if she was stronger, had grown a lot, become a whole different person since then... Going through that again would be just as bad for her as for any other woman. And with all he knew from her medical file, there was no way this could have a happy ending.

And even if... That prospect was even scarier, so Clint gave himself a hard mental smack on the head and shoved that subject far, far out of reach, the moment he entered the house. Overreacting again, Barton. There was absolutely no reason to assume any of this would happen. Just a virus or something, everything was okay, Natasha would be better soon. And if his hands trembled a bit when he got that transport box from the store room, well, he hadn't had anything to eat yet.

Before he went to get his hands all scratched open, he stopped to see if Natasha was ready enough for the trip. No reason to give furball the shock of her lifetime before they were even save to go.

"Nat?"

[study_in_scarlet]

Natasha sat still and focused on her breathing as well as the sounds of Clint moving around in the house until he returned with some clothes for her which she accepted gratefully. Slipping the sweater from her shoulders, she was just unfolding the shirt when he grabbed her hand.

He was always so intuitive, and she should have known it wouldn’t fool him, but the question was why had she bothered to try? She didn’t have to put on a mask, not with him, and she knew this, but maybe it wasn’t him she was trying to fool. If she was honest with herself she was scared, and the act was just as much for herself as him, if not more. “Okay,” she agreed, giving his hand a squeeze back.

Letting him go to take care of the kitten, she pulled on the clothes that he had given her, almost managing to get fully dressed before another wave of nausea hit her. She didn’t have as much to bring up this time and was left dry heaving at the end, but it passed again, thankfully before Clint returned. By the time she heard him calling out to her she had finished dressing, combed out her hair and was carefully brushing her teeth. Not wanting to risk trying to talk with the mouthful of toothpaste, she remove her free hand from the sink where she was leaning heavily and stuck it out through the door to the hall to wave blindly in his general direction.

[farmboyhawk]

Since Natasha wasn't done yet, Clint quickly peeled himself an orange to get his body from sleep mode into fully capable of driving, even with a head full of worries and paranoia. He stayed there for eating, not wanting to provoke another wave of nausea with the smell. By the time he washed the juice off his hands, at least they weren't trembling anymore. He was fine. Everything was totally okay.

Well, not everything, not the way Natasha more leaned on that sink more than standing straight, but they would take care of that. He brought a bottle of water for her from the fridge, in case she wanted to try at least and get something in her stomach, and then went for the considerable task of getting their visitor ready for the ride.

Well, fetching the animal wasn't the problem, little one seemed to trust him enough by now and didn't protest when he picked her up, having just finished her meal. Maybe she thought, she was in for some more treats when he carried her inside where the opened transport box was waiting. The misunderstandings - voiced in high-pitched noises and a lot of these harmless little hisses - only began when he tried to put her inside. By the time he could finally close the grate of the basket, he was bleeding from several fine but painful cuts and not exactly happier than before.

"Well, that was fun."

He looked up at Natasha with half a grin and wiped his hands on his pants with a small grimace.

"Good to go?"

[study_in_scarlet]

She very nearly threw up again when it came to spitting out the toothpaste, but she managed to hold it back to just a few gags, mostly because she had nothing left to bring up. When she was finished she wrapped herself in Clint’s sweater again before exiting the bathroom, the bottle of water he had so thoughtfully provided in hand.

Hanging back while he dealt with their little charge, she winced at the power struggle before offering a sympathetic look when he finally got the carrier closed a little worse for wear. “You should probably clean those first,” she said of the wounds. They were minor scratches, but until they got the kitten checked out they probably shouldn’t be too careless. “I’ll take her to the car.”

Taking the carrier out with her, she settled into the passenger seat and held it on her lap, not wanting to jostle the poor thing too much. "I know, it's not nice being caged," she said soothingly to the cries emanating from the box. "But it's only for a short time and it will be worth it, promise." She only hoped she could say the same about her own appointment.

[farmboyhawk]

Clint grimaced a little but followed the advise without protest, mostly because he wanted to get Natasha to a doctor as quickly as possible and not argue about such a stupid thing instead. Also, he tended to be a little paranoid and extra careful with his hands since they were his most important assets. So living with a little burning from a handful of disinfection it was.

It was still early enough and the car wasn't too heated, fortunately, also the ride to the hospital was a short one from what he remembered. He tried to recall for a second why he knew that, what kind of business he had had there before, but dismissed the thought when it wouldn't form. Really no time for that right now.

He mostly made it to keep his eyes on the street and not suffocate Natasha with worried looks all the time but it wasn't easy. That fleeting, ice cold panic from before was still dancing in the back of his head, as much as he tried to keep it out, and the way Natasha acted didn't help. He had never seen her so eager and terrified to see a doctor at the same time. He felt a little like their little passenger who broke the silence with an ongoing litany of heartbreaking meows and reached a little paw through the bars of the grate from time to time. Highly confused, caged in something that was too big and terrifying to grasp and unable to put his fear into words.

But he didn't want to leave Natasha alone with this either, not when she was clearly uneasy herself. He didn't trust his unsteady hands and rather kept both of them on the wheel, just reached out to shortly brush her hand at a red traffic light. As long as she didn't bring it up herself, he didn't want to ask her. He just wanted to remind her that she could, anytime.

"You know that I'm there for you, right? Always."

[study_in_scarlet]

Although Clint made a good show of keeping his attention on his driving, Natasha knew his mind was on her. He had expected her to brush the sickness off as nothing, some kind of bug she had picked up, and claim that she just needed a day or two of rest and she would be fine. The last thing he had expected, she assumed, was for her to agree to see a doctor so easily.

Of course there was a part of her that had wanted to ignore it all, to pretend that everything was fine, but she knew he would see right through her and the tension would get so bad between them that it would ruin the relaxing mood they were trying to create here. It was a testament to how far their relationship had progressed that she had chosen to face this head on instead, though clearly it still had a little ways to go since she wanted to do it alone. She still had a ways to go.

“Shh, it’s okay little one,” she said in an almost musical tone from time to time, trying to soothe the confused and terrified kitten. “We’ll take care of you.”

Looking over at Clint when he suddenly touched her hand she nodded. “I know,” she said, honestly. She knew he would be, but there were some things she still needed to do on her own. She wouldn’t shut him out, wouldn’t keep from him whatever she found, but she wanted to do this alone, to give herself time to deal with the results before having to talk about it. She hoped he understood that.

Catching his hand in hers, she brought it to her lips to kiss his knuckles gently. “We’ll always have each other’s backs.”

[farmboyhawk]

Her assurance made it a little easier and he felt at least a little more secure in his own mind, so Clint held her hand for a little while and tried to breathe. To relax as much as possible. They didn't know anything yet.

Still he was very relieved when he could pull in on the half empty hospital parking lot. Fortunately he found a shadowy little spot to stop so they could leave their little guest alone for a few moments. That hard knot in his stomach only grew more painful on the way inside, and for once it wasn't just that he hated hospitals with all of his heart.

He handed Natasha the small list of names he had scribbled down on the back of Angelina's shopping list before, and most of the money from his wallet since she didn't have hers with her, so she could bribe her way into a quick consultation. And then suddenly he didn't want to leave at all.

"You okay?"

He touched her arm again, a little clumsy this time, and peered over to the small row of people waiting by the front desk counter.

"Want me to wait until it's your turn?"

[study_in_scarlet]

When they got out of the car at the hospital, Natasha took great care in setting the little carrier on the floor on the passenger side figuring it would be the most stable place for the rest of the drive. After a few last soothing words to the kitten she walked with Clint into the building, her own stomach flipping and churning.

Taking the list and the money, she gave him a half smile and tucked a few of the bills back into his hand. “You’re going to have to pay the vet something, you know.”

He was practically radiating nervousness and tried to calm him down by laying a gentle hand on the side of his face. “I will be fine,” she assured him. “You have to get back to our charge. It would be cruel to leave her alone in this heat for too long.” The poor thing was tiny and half starved as it was, and Natasha was concerned the heat might affect it more than a normal kitten. “You take care of her, I will take care of me, and we’ll meet right back here, okay?”

[farmboyhawk]

"I'll wait on the parking lot."

Clint still didn't like the idea of leaving Natasha alone in this situation, so vague, so unreal and poisoning the air all th same, but in the end it was her decision. And their relationship based a lot on giving her all the freedom she needed. He pressed another short kiss to her forehead and turned away then, keeping his restless sigh to himself until he was outside the building.

Their kitten was even more miserable, now that it wasn't close to the person anymore it already seemed to like so much. Clint began to wish they'd done this vet thing on another day. These sad, scared sounds from the back of the car just added to that emotional weight on his shoulders. Only overreacting of course, false alert, it had to be. In the evening they would laugh about how they had freaked out for a moment, surely... Right now he didn't see anything funny about the situation at all.

At least the waiting room of the vet was completely empty. No, Sicilians weren't morning people. When he told the doctor that he was a friend of Angelina, the grumpy, tired face of the middle aged woman lit up immediately. She motioned him to enter the care room and at least tried to keep the frown off her face when she took a look into his transport box. A confusion he could understand perfectly, he usually shared it.

Stray cats had been a problem in southern countries for centuries. Kittens seldom were taken as pets around here. They were rather eliminated before they could overpopulate the streets or chased out of the garden before they could ruin the vegetable patches.

And then there were good souls like Angelina who spent their money for neutering the males and take care of the sick and injured. And though Clint did neither have time nor the passion for such a life time cause, in some unexpected way he had taken a liking to this little rogue here. He wanted it to have at least a few years of a healthy life, and he couldn't act like he did it only for Natasha any longer. That furry devil had taken his heart, as much as he disliked to admit it.

So when the doctor asked him in a sympathetic voice if little one was worth the cost and trouble, he just glared at her.

That seemed to help - well, his glare did have that effect on most people - and the woman did her job. It should have been a relief when she got the animal out of the basket with quick, expert hands, gloves protecting her from the tiny, razor sharp claws - a trick Clint definitely would remember - and the little one suddenly was completely quiet. Only it wasn't. The little creature was stock still with fear, that was all. Her whole body trembled when the doctor put her on a pair of scales, giving Clint another doubtful look about the number she wrote down.

Fortunately she didn't say anything, just started to search her patient, feel her delicate body, check on that old injury on her ear and looked into both of them before cleaning them with a piece of cotton. Only when the doctor gave the kitten a small injection, it let out another of these pained meows, very quiet, defeated sounding this time, and Clint felt a little like joining the choir. This definitely wouldn't make his list of favorite mornings.

Little one went into sulking mode after that. She didn't even try to protest much when the doctor forced her to swallow a small pill, and wriggled only a little when she was fitted a smug flea collar around her neck. Miraculously, she didn't have fleas, as the doctor informed Clint - thank God for small favors - doubtlessly thanks to her lacking contact with other cats. He definitely preferred it if it stayed that way.

He wasn't sure how to feel about the attached little coin with his telephone number on that collar, but if it helped keeping people from harming little one when they understood she had... a caretaker or something... There could be worse.

"Bring her back in a few weeks, then we can chip her", the woman finally ordered when the patient was back in her box, apparently still too shocked to even protest, and she started writing down a list of things for Clint to buy. "If she makes it, that is. If you keep on feeding her well and give her the anthelmintics, she has a good chance. She's tougher than I thought. Give her a bath when she comes home. That's the stuff you put in the water. You get all this in that shop across the street..."

And so on. Clint allowed himself to clock out and soak the information in with that certain brain half responsible for tactical meetings and Fury's motivational speeches, while his conscious thoughts went back to Natasha. She would be happy to hear that little one was doing alright at least. If she wanted to hear it at all and wasn't just being pushed in a bottomless abyss by her own diagnosis...

He just couldn't keep the fear out of his mind longer than five minutes. He should have been with her now. Not bargaining with a native who apparently thought, Americans didn't know anything about local economies, about a reasonable price for the session.

The last argument they finally had over little one's patient record since the doctor insisted on putting a name on there and he simply had no idea what to answer. Natasha and him probably should come up with something better for the next visit than the Italian equivalent for Jane Doe...

Finally he left the building more unnerved than ever, with like a single Euro left in his wallet. Fortunately, in that pet shop he could use his credit card, and he didn't pay much mind to the sum on that checkout display in the end. He was sure, he had all kind of stuff in the two bags he didn't even need, just because he really wanted to get back to the hospital and know what was going on now.

By the time he came back to the car, little one had found her voice back and protested very clearly about still being caged. At least the kitten treats the girl in the shop had put in his bag without even asking, came in handy now. When he shook a few of the fish-formed little crackers through the grate of the basket, he was rewarded with another cut on the back of his hand. But soon his passenger was too curious about these smelly little things right before her paws and tried one of them, after looking and sniffing it from all sides. About half a minute later all of them were gone and the furball settled with licking its little mouth and than started to clean herself. She didn't even even protest when Clint put the basket down on the back floor again.

He should have been relieved but after driving just a few blocks, the silence already got on his nerves and he turned the radio on. Eros Ramazotti throwing passionate corny pieces about broken hearts and hot summer nights at him at least took his mind off things. For like a few minutes. He left the motor running when they reached their destination, both to drown his senses with more song and silly commercials and let the air conditioning on for little one, and tried not to stare holes into the hospital doors.

[study_in_scarlet]

Natasha watched him leave before approaching the desk. She held back some of the money, and while what bit she did offer helped, it was when she ended up vomiting in a nearby trashcan that the receptionist finally took her to a private room to wait for one of the doctors on the list she had presented.

Only a couple minutes passed before a rather perturbed doctor entered the room, but luckily years of training had taught Natasha how to read people and play on certain aspects of their personalities to get what she wanted. She amplified the fear she actually felt and fell into pitiful sobs, and by the time she had described her symptoms the doctor was more sympathetic and helpful than annoyed. He took blood and urine samples and promised to put a rush on all the tests since she was so far from home and so clearly distraught.

Once she was alone she used a few tissues to clean up and settled in for a long wait. Only then did she begin to regret her decision to do this alone. It would be nice to have Clint by her side, someone to talk to and try to distract her from everything, but she also knew it wouldn’t have helped. He would have tried to joke and make her laugh but she would have felt his nerves and fear the whole time and it would have only made things worse. It was better to do this alone, though at least thinking of Clint gave her something else to focus on. She wondered how he was doing at the vet, and how their little one was faring. There was a chance they had destroyed any trust the little creature had in them this morning, and that they might never see it again once they let it out of the cage, a thought that bothered her more than it probably should have. It was just a stray and it had only been a few days; she should not feel this attached to it so soon, but she was, and she knew Clint was too. She really hoped the draw of food at least was enough to keep the kitten coming back.

Time ticked by and she fidgeted, wishing she had brought a book to read but knowing she wouldn’t be able to concentrate enough to do so. She could have wandered the room and poked at the various items set about but she stayed perfectly still, absently rubbing her stomach and staring at the door.

After what felt like a lifetime it finally opened again and as soon as she saw the smile on the doctor’s face she knew; without him even saying anything she knew. Her hand over her stomach tightened.

She accepted the news with disbelief and tried to argue it before falling silent, falling numb. Drugs were purchased, further appointments made, and he even refused to let her pay for the appointment when she told him how high risk this was. There would be more, he would get his money in the long run, though Natasha could feel that it wasn’t about the money. Angelina had been right with her list, this doctor was one of the good ones.

By the time she exited the hospital she had fallen into a state of numbness that left her rather unreadable. Clint was waiting, as she knew he would be, and she climbed wordlessly into the passenger seat. Her first instinct was to ask him about his adventure but she knew that would be cruel, knew how worried he was.

“I’m fine,” she said, knowing the words would be of no comfort. “I’ll tell you about it when we get back to the house, okay?” She didn’t want to do it here, not in the parking lot, not in the car.

[farmboyhawk]

It wasn't okay, not at all, she wasn't okay. She was in shock, deep enough to paralyze her mind, and there weren't many things that could shake the Black Widow that much. With not telling him, she really told him enough.

It wasn't okay to just shut up and drive back as if nothing happened, no. He wanted to hear it from her, he wanted to know what and how the hell it had happened and even more important, what the hell they should be doing now.

But Natasha asked him to drive her home, so he started the car and shut up. Maybe he would have argued, would have insisted on her letting him know, if he hadn't been so goddamn afraid himself. Maybe he didn't even want to know.

For a while they drove in silence because he needed all his concentration to not wrap them around the next flower tray or down the serpentines. Also he didn't have an idea what the hell to say. So he spent the time dully translating the music from the radio in various languages in his head, to keep his thoughts away from that one scary subject. Or with telling himself to stop freaking out over nothing. Probably it was just like he had thought, Natasha just didn't cope with the heat, and they would have to leave much sooner than expected. That was what she didn't want to tell him, sure...

His own pale reflection in the back mirror let him know, he wasn't very successful with fooling himself. And Natasha didn't look much better. She looked... lost. Scared and alone. Wasn't there something he had told her earlier about being there for her? It wasn't fair to fall into brooding mode just because she needed a moment for herself to cope with everything. He had promised her.

His hand still felt too cold and heavy when he placed it on Natasha's thigh but he felt a little better when he could touch her, his anchor that always pulled him down when he threatened to float off into hurt and panic.

It didn't help find anything to say, though.

[study_in_scarlet]

She knew she hadn’t assuaged his worries at all but she was grateful when he didn’t push her to talk. She wanted to wait until they were back in the comfort of the house that she had grown to love over the past few days, back where they could stay until they could talk it all out and come up with a solution. She didn’t want the distraction of driving nor the interruption of stopping somewhere to talk first. Thankfully Clint seemed to understand, or at least he bent to her wishes as he almost always did. Whatever the reason she didn’t care so long as it worked.

Staring out the window as they drove in silence, she tried to collect her thoughts, tried to figure out exactly what she would say to Clint when they got home. Would he be angry with her? It wasn’t carelessness; he had seen her file and he knew that this should be impossible. She had had no reason to take any precautions. Ultimately, though, it wasn’t telling him that would be the hard part, but what was to come afterwards. That was what she was dreading.

Looking over at him when she felt his hand rest on her leg, she covered it with her own and gave it a gentle squeeze. “How about the little one? Is she completely traumatized?” she asked, trying to settle both their nerves by breaking the silence between them.

[farmboyhawk]

"Well, at least she'll only hate me and not you for the rest of her life", Clint answered with a wry grin. "Seems like she can be bribed with fish treats though. We still need to bath her, but she's holding up okay."

He didn't mention the other stuff - the daily pill for a whole two weeks and that bathing as soon as possible thing - because right now he had other things to worry about. There was no telling if little one would be back to their house tomorrow after all that had happened in the morning, and though that thought hurt a little... Right now he just didn't have any emotional strength left to think about that.

"She'll be a little tipsy from the injection." Before they could fall silent again, he fortunately remembered another thing from that doctor's speech before that had passed his conscious mind at that point. "We should keep her in the house for a few hours."

One more complication he actually didn't want to deal with right now, but they had to talk about it now when they were already pulling in their street. In a few minutes there would be other stuff to worry about.

[study_in_scarlet]

Although it was a joke, Natasha could tell that the thought bothered Clint. He had gotten painted the bad guy here, having to deal with it on his own instead of both of them sharing the blame. She hadn’t meant for it to be that way, hadn’t even considered the possibility; she had had other things on her mind.

“I’m sure she’ll get over it. You are awfully hard to hate,” she said, squeezing his hand again.

She wasn’t expecting the added distraction of caring for the kitten right away, but maybe it would be a good distraction, or maybe it would sleep for the next few hours while they dealt with their own issues first.

As if it is something that can be dealt with in a couple of hours.

“We can put a blanket in the bathtub for now,” Natasha suggested. It would get the kitten out of the cage, but not give her free range to roam around the house just yet. It would be a big enough space for one so tiny to rest in for an hour or two, surely.

She saw the house looming ahead and was somehow filled with both relief and trepidation. The four walls gave her comfort, but once inside there would be no hiding.

[farmboyhawk]

Natasha was trying to comfort him and he made sure to press her thigh softly in return but he couldn't bring himself to smile. The tension between them was unbearable though neither of them wanted it. He knew it was the better decision, that he wouldn't have wanted to be stuck in the middle of the city, feeling like his mind had been turned inside out. But he wouldn't exactly consider this drive the best of his life either.

He was more than relieved when he could finally park the car and get out in the quickly warming morning sun. The kitten hat withdrawn to the very end of the small basket when he got it out from the floor carefully, obviously afraid. He could feel another little part of his heart break, but he did his best to ignore it. On a scale from worrying about his partner being either sick or pregnant, a scared animal was still pretty low on the list right now.

"Can you please bring the bags from the trunk, Nat? The meds shouldn't stay in the heat."

He brought his passenger straight to the bathroom, just taking a blanket from the sofa with him on the way. Maybe the already familiar smell of both of them would help little one to feel a little better. He spread it in the bathtub before putting the basket in and opening it for the kitten to come out on its own, whenever she wanted to. For today he had earned himself enough scratches.

He thought about putting a few more of these treats in the tub, but he really wasn't sure he could live with this awful wait for even another second. So he ended up on the sofa instead, waiting for Natasha to join him. Waiting for the inevitable.

[study_in_scarlet]

Clint practically leapt out of the car the moment they were parked and he’d killed the engine, and he moved to take care of their little passenger first. Natasha moved slower, more mechanically, do carry out the task he had given her. One more thing to focus on but none of it really mattered. In the end, whether silence or distraction, she still hadn’t come up with what to say.

Carrying the bags inside she didn’t even feel curious to look at them, she just set them on the kitchen counter and lingered a moment before making her way to the living room where Clint was already waiting. Had she been in another mood she might have joked about him having developed super speed, but as it was neither of them were in the mood for joking.

Taking a seat beside Clint, her body angled partially toward him, Natasha tried to come up with the right words, but the truth was that there weren’t any. She had made him wait long enough, and in this situation she felt that the bandaid approach was probably her best bet. One hand instinctively covering her stomach, she looked up to meet his eyes.

Just say it.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out without preamble.

Saying it aloud made it feel all the more real.

[farmboyhawk]

Clint just stared at her for many long moments, not even sure if his expression really changed, if his eyes, his body were moving. He stared through her, through everything for a second, he couldn't quite feel his body and even less what was going on in his head. It wasn't surprise, that much he knew. Not after all but knowing it from the early morning on, and suspecting it longer than he wanted to admit even to himself.

Of course he had known. And that hole of ice cold fear in the middle of his body had been there all along. It just spread into every single cell now, paralyzing every thought, every muscle, every feeling. For a moment he wondered if he was back in the cold darkness of the P.E.G.A.S.U.S. lab with a crazy ass wannabe-God ripping his soul out of his body until nothing was left of him. The fear, the confusion, the panic, all of it just was too powerful for a moment to even let himself feel it, leave alone cope with it.

Only when his eyes started to ache, he remembered how to blink again, and a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding burned in his throat. With the pain the world fell back into place and he felt some more where his nails had dug down hard in his opposite arms, but at least he didn't feel completely zombified anymore, completely numb by something overthrowing him helplessly. He had sworn to never be that helpless anymore in his life, to never lose control that way again, and he certainly couldn't do it now when Natasha needed him more than ever.

But he couldn't stop his still too cold feeling hands from shaking when he reached out for her and pulled her in his arms, coax her to bury her face against his shoulder so she didn't need to watch him, as he was still at a loss of what to say. Or what to feel.

None of the too strong, too powerful emotions inside could really break through that ice of terrified disbelief covering his mind. And maybe it was better that way. Maybe he shouldn't allow himself to feel. He would have to be strong for Natasha now. Stay by her side in every step of the only way of dealing with this, that her body would allow. At least as far as he knew.

He was pretty sure, if he even allowed himself to think of the other possibility, that maybe this news wouldn't just mean pain and loss, then the panic would take over. Then he would probably already be out of the door to run for a few hours until he would collapse under the noon sun.

He didn't want to ask, didn't want to know, but he had to. He had to be with her, stay with her through this. He could just hope they were lucky with this part of the story. The last thing he wanted Natasha to go through was some legal crap before she could go through a painful enough experience to solve this problem.

"How long?"

[study_in_scarlet]

The silence was heavy, painful, but Natasha couldn’t bring herself to break it. She had to let him digest what she said, had to give him time to deal with it and form his own reaction. She couldn’t risk influencing that reaction, couldn’t make him feel he had to comfort her or lie to her to make her feel better. It was her body, but this was still very much a part of him too.

What was he thinking? She wished she could read him, but all she could see was shock and fear, two very understandable reactions. This was never supposed to happen, it wasn’t supposed to be possible, so they had never really talked about it beyond both of them agreeing that they didn’t want children.

That should settle it right there, the next step; that should make it easy. Neither of them wanted a family, and it was highly unlikely she would carry to term as it was, so why would she try? Yet somehow the thought of an abortion made her stomach flop. She thought of Rose, of that tiny person that had not lived long enough to take her first breath. She had wanted that baby then, had wanted her so bad, but that was a long time ago and Natasha was a different person now.

Why was he still not saying anything? She wasn’t sick, she wasn’t dying, she was merely pregnant, and that could be easily fixed as well, but Clint looked anything but relieved. She wanted to say his name but the word caught in her throat and she couldn’t breathe, so when he finally pulled her into his shaky embrace her breath came out in a painful gasp. She slipped her arms around his back and held him tightly as she buried her face against his shoulder, glad for the break from his gaze.

“Five weeks,” she answered, turning her head so her voice wouldn’t be muffled against him. “Must have been when I returned from Alaska.” They had had one of those heated reunions that lasted all night and involved many different positions. “I’m sorry, Clint,” she suddenly burst out. “I thought we were safe, I swear. You read my file, you know.”

[farmboyhawk]

"Don't."

His voice was too harsh, too rough when he stopped her, and he hugged her closer apologetically for a moment, but he couldn't help it. He could hardly sort out what was going on in his own head, leave alone strive for control and sensitivity as much as usual.

"We both couldn't know."

And it wasn't just her. He had been through more torture sessions in his life than he cared to remember, and there were certain body parts, especially female torturers went for gleefully every single fucking time. He wasn't infertile by any means. But he had spoken to enough doctors after waking up with a feeling like someone had sat his whole lower body on fire, to long dismiss the idea of getting his cords cut, like he had thought about it some years ago. With both their compromised ability to reproduce combined, there had been simply no need for that anymore.

In short, they had beaten the chances of the lottery, and if that wasn't a scary thought, he had never had one.

No use pondering about that now. He could make his appointment to finally take care of that problem after Natasha had been through the emotional disaster that was upon her, upon both of them. He had only one job to do right now, and that was keeping help her through everything. While locking away whatever was waiting under that thickening layer of ice inside completely. This wasn't about him.

Her answer, at least, was half of a relief. No legal bullshit then, and they even had a few weeks left to prepare for everything, whether here or at home, whatever she preferred. It wasn't like they could just go on and enjoy their holiday anymore anyway. One step after the other, and every of them centered around her and her well-being. He couldn't allow himself to get too emotionally involved in this, not even a second.

He didn't want to get up, let go off her for even a second, but he was damn well aware that she had less than nothing in her stomach, and that wasn't exactly a good basis for crucial decisions.

"Back in a second."

He pressed a short kiss to her temple, hoping that the touch wouldn't feel half as cold and numb to her as it did to him, with his skin still crawling, freezing with shock, and quickly went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, a few grapes and an apple. The plate clattered too loud, too shrill against the counter, betraying his trembling hands, and when he cut the apple in four halves, he earned himself another cut. There was no pain, no noise from his lips, just an unnerved rolling of his eyes.

Get your fucking shit together, Barton.

He sucked on his forefinger absent-minded when he returned and placed the plate on the table, without another of these nerve-wrecking noises this time, and sat back down with Natasha. The break hadn't done anything to straighten his thoughts, but he hadn't really expected it. It wasn't like he could plan much right now, anyway. It was her decision, whatever was to happen next.

He just nodded at the plate and the bottle shortly, not wanting to push her and tried to think of his next words, again without much success. He couldn't just let her do all the talking, and whatever they were bringing up in this conversation now... It was inevitable it would hurt, for any of them. The least he could do was not drag this out with uncomfortable silence.

"How do we do this, Nat? I mean... You... Your body can't have it, right?"

He didn't expect any answer but a confirmation, not after what he knew about her file, about her past. Maybe he just still didn't want to allow himself thinking of another option. It was too fucking terrifying.

[study_in_scarlet]

His tone was harsh but it was what she needed. Of course he didn’t blame her, he knew she didn’t want this any more than he did, and had she known there was even a possibility they would have been more careful.  She was being silly, yet when he held her closer she gladly accepted it.  Holding him close she tried to think of something further to say, but what could she say at this point?  It was something neither of them had expected, and something they had to think logically about and discuss.  It would probably be better to go home now and deal with it in the medical system she knew, but the flight would be horrendous, she would be sick the entire time, and what if they wanted identification?  She didn’t want anyone else to know, didn’t want to have to talk about it. 

Only reluctantly did Natasha let him go, and while a part of her thought it better to be out of his stiff embrace that lacked all the usual warmth and comfort, she instantly felt cold and alone without it.  Wrapping his sweater tighter around herself, she drew her feet up on to the sofa and wrapped her arms around her legs, hugging them to her chest.  She listened to him in the kitchen, every bang of a plate and chop of the knife going through her and making her wince. 

Why couldn’t they be normal?  Normal couples would be happy about the news, and there were some that would give almost anything for the chance that Natasha was throwing away, but it wasn’t that simple because her and Clint weren’t normal.  They were anything but.

Natasha watched him return, her stomach twisting at the sight of the food, but she did accept the bottle of water and took a small sip, barely enough to wet her throat.  Putting the cap back on she let it dangle from her fingers before turning her head sharply to look at him at his question.

Was he… was he looking for another option?  If she said yes, would he want to keep it?  Would he grow to hate her if she didn’t try?  If she did?  “No,” she answered, and as far as she knew it was the truth.  There would be complications, and eventually she would lose the baby, just like last time.  Her body would never carry it to term.

But then she hadn’t thought herself able to even conceive again either.  “It would be best to get this over with as soon as possible.”  Before either of them had time to start doubting the decision.

((Stealth email reply from work.  Hopefully formatting isnt' all messed up))

[farmboyhawk]

[nope, everything working fine. My poor feels :(]

**********

There was something in the way she looked at him when she answered, in her too fast, too determined voice. Clint knew, he shouldn't allow himself to realize and even less think about it. Not when she clearly didn't want to. Of what use would it be, starting to theorize now? Even if things weren't being quite so certain, now that she would have the right doctors around her helping her, and science far more development than when she had had her first child... In the end it would cause her just more pain if it didn't work out. And the hell he would do anything to be the reason for that.

"I'll get on the phone for you if you want, see if we can an appointment for a check up tomorrow."

He knew there were at least one or two gynecologists on that list Angelina had given him. He just hadn't been able to talk her out of the idea of a possible pregnancy- ironic enough, now that he thought about it. One of them would have to legalize the... the operation, from what he vaguely remembered. He'd been the shoulder to cry on for a former field partner whose girlfriend had gotten pregnant some years ago, and he didn't think, things would be much different in another civilized country nowadays.

They would have to get through this appointment and a loadshit of uncomfortable questions and then... Then they would get this done. Together. Get rid of the problem before it could even become one...

Something pulsated hard and painful in his stomach at his own thoughts and his tightly clutched hands in his lap began to tremble again. This wasn't a goddamn problem, this wasn't some unfortunate medical condition that Natasha had to heal from. This...

A painful hot breath gasp from his throat, from the strain of putting that train of thought right back where it belonged, far out of reach. He buried his face in his hands, elbows propped heavily on his knees, and pressed one thumb and forefinger forcefully against his closed eyes until it hurt. Just a moment to keep himself together, that was all. He was fine, he had to be, for her.

He felt his shoulder tremble, the strain in his hardly tensed legs, and clung on to all these sensations with his life while he recited every single paragraph of S.H.I.E.L.D. protocols he had ever remembered in his head. One by one, in four or five different languages in his head and back. Just to keep himself away from breaking under that lurking, dangerous realization what it was they were talking about here.

No choice, no way out, no use it wasting any of his energy on it. Not when Natasha needed that energy so much more right now.

But no matter how loudly he screamed stupid numbers and stiff phrases at himself in his head, his own voice couldn't be loud enough to drown that one doubtful, reproachful little whisper in the very back of his mind.

But what if there was a way?

[study_in_scarlet]

Clint was quick to agree, to offer to get the ball rolling as soon as possible, but Natasha could detect a note of hesitation there.  She ignored it.  “Thank you,” she said, accepting the offer.

They should probably tell Fury, let S.H.I.E.L.D. handle it in their proper medical facilities with all their state of the art equipment, but she didn’t want them to know, at least not until her annual physical, but even then any physical signs of the procedure would probably be hard to discern from those left by previous traumas.  No, they could take care of it here, maybe even within a few days, and then she could recover before even going back.

And ruin one more location in the world for him.  There aren’t that many left.

Why here?  Why now?  They had been so happy, had been making some real breakthroughs that she thought they could take back with them, some changes that would make their lives better and only strengthen their relationship, but now…

Startled by the sudden noise of distress, she looked over at Clint again as he buried his face in his hands.  No, please no, she silently begged him.  She could be strong if he was strong, if they could look at this clinically and leave their emotions out of it.  It was a mistake, something that should never have happened, and they would be righting that mistake.  She should never have been able to conceive in the first place, that was true, but carrying the baby to term would take a miracle.  And why was she even considering it?  They had both agreed that they didn’t want children.  Clint didn’t want to be a father, and Natasha… it had always been a moot point, so why waste time thinking about it?

She saw his shoulders tremble and she was torn between comforting him and pulling up a cold exterior.  Fortunately the former won out.  “We’ll get through this,” she said softly, laying her hand on his shoulder and rubbing it gently.  “I’m otherwise healthy so there should be no further issues.”  She knew that wasn’t the problem, though, but it was the one she could easily reassure him of.