Munich

[redledgerdays]

Who: Natasha and Clint
What: Learning trust
Warnings: There be torture here
Notes: Headcanon


[they're all around, watching expectantly, and Natasha doesn't have a whole lot of options. she never did, not since this whole affair started. it's just a lot more pressure now, with their eyes boring into her back, expectations high and consequences for failure even higher

bracing one foot on the edge of the chair, leaning over the man currently strapped tightly to it. with one deft move she pulls off his hood, smiling coldly at his tousled hair and all ready bruised face. she reaches out to stroke a cheek almost comfortingly]

You're a fool, Agent Barton. You never should have come here.

[as if to prove her point, the hand not on his cheek casually runs the flat of a blade along his neck to his shoulder, the tip poking into the fabric of his shirt, teasing it]

Comments

[hasheart]

[It's frequently said that Clint's terminally incapable of backing down, or retreating from a situation gone bad. He's been shot, stabbed, captured, interrogated, and psychologically screwed with more times than he can name, which the psych team considers a worrying commentary on his mental state while on the job.

Not to say that this mission's gone bad. In fact, it's all going according to plan, to the plan he and Nat had worked out before going in. Even though said plan involves some of the aforementioned things that worry the psych teams so much about him.

And it's one thing to know there's a plan, and to trust that there's still one in place when the hood's pulled off and he comes face to face with not Natasha, his partner and fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, but the Black Widow, the stone cold assassin whose allegiance changed with the tides of favor and fortune. But he can't do anything but trust right now, so at her touch he just grins, and sets his voice into a lazy drawl.]

Well you know me, I'm just a sucker for a pretty face.

[The knife, he's ignoring. Because if he ignores it, he won't tense with the knowledge of just what Natasha can do with that knife, and will do the moment he gives her the okay to.]

[redledgerdays]

[the assortment of scars they carry between them could write novels the likes of which none would believe, and yet could not be denied as having happened. not all of them were visible, and she carried more on her heart than most in a lifetime. like Barton, she'd been on the wrong end of any assortment of weapons, stumbling to Medical more times than not, or being dragged from the field because she couldn't even manage that.

their psych profiles are a mix of worrying concerns and begrudging approvals that on a good day are hilarious to read over and compare, and on a bad day a testament to just how broken they really are

which is why this plan exists, why they're both so capable of seeing it through. they are the best at what they do, and Natasha has been the Black Widow far longer than she's been getting psych evals at S.H.I.E.L.D. like an unused dress, it hangs in the closet, ignored, but fits perfectly when she slips back into it

her knuckles break across Clint's cheek, leaving a mark he's sure to feel, knife working into his clothes more steadily]

How fortunate I'm not so fond of yours, isn't it?