Title: Bang Your Head (Mental Health) (1/4)
Author: oresteia
A Gift For: kl_shipper1
Rating: PG
Warnings: Some hint of violence and psychological torture and unwanted medical procedures but it's mostly dramatic angst mixed with happy endings
Pairings: Clint/Natasha, Tony/Pepper, Jane/Thor, Team
Summary/Prompt Used:
4) Who are they, besides their job, besides the assassins they're trained to be? Show me who Clint and Natasha really are and what they do when they're not on a mission-- when they have some time to decompress and be themselves. Basically, Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff vs. Clint and Natasha.
Things I like: Banter, happy endings, deaf!Clint, team!shawarma, team antics, UST and/or RST, (romance with) reasonable amounts of angst. AUs. Movieverse. Clint showing off his musical abilities (and Natasha having them too).
I don't want to receive: Dub-con/non-con. Torture. Character death. Unhappy endings. Lots of smut. Non-C/N.
Authors Notes:
The story is kind of told in an disjointed format. It’s almost built like Memento or Pulp Fiction. The beginning gives the ending away to some extent. There’s more after the beginning but it tells it all final conclusion (that is left open ended slightly). Time jumps quickly but the story is written linear, so that none of the time jumps are so misplace that they don’t make sense. Also, this story involves Phil Coulson as a general important character. The heart of it is about Clint and Natasha but really it’s him as their third (not romantically in the least, brotherly, friendly).


Banner by oresteia



(August 2013)

“Barton? Barton? CLINT!”

Clint forced himself awake he was covered in blood and sweat in a jail cell that smelt like piss and gunpowder residue. Part of him thought he must be seeing things because he was dead.

The other part one of him, the one that recgonized that he should be in pain. The one realized he was seeing things in his sleep not his awaken status knew otherwise.

It didn't stop him from saying his anyway, “Coulson?”

--

(May 2008)

“Excuse me but you can direct me to nearest ATM?” Clint asked in an exaggerated form of what he liked to call the stupid english speaking only tourist.

He probably had overdone it but the man in the striped pin suit and the tinted green sun lenses with black base stopped and actually answered his question, “Down the block and to your right.”

Clint smirked and bid him a nice day like he was the grateful no longer lost tourist. Relived enough to place his hands on the stranger, shake his hand, and throw his arms out like he wanted a hug. All was right in the boy next door visiting the foreign land's world.

His english was top notch but then again most terrorists spoke perfect English.

Too bad this one did not think to check his wallet or assume that maybe the friendly rugged but still boyish looking tourist might be a petty thief.

Money, a small dose of white drugs in a plastic baggie (possibly heroin maybe something else), fake ID's, fake passport, and a few credit cards-- standard issue terrorist with too much money to burn.

Natasha walked over to him, “Anything interesting?”

Clint took the money and handed it to a beggar on the street, “Nothing worth mentioning.”

“Keeping the drugs for Coulson to have analyzed?” she asked.

“Nah, we came here to kill the bastard anyway. I just wanted to run prints on the ID see if maybe we could find his maker,” Clint remarked.

Natasha snorted at the sight of the little white powder baggie, “Why do all terrorists do drugs?” sarcasm dripping from her tone.

“Well if you're going to kill a bunch of people with illegal automatic weapons might as well try the good shit. Probably won't live long enough to enjoy retirement anyway.”

“Want to get a room?” she asked a minute later.

Clint looked over his shoulder as if to make sure no one was listening in on them, “Why not? I've been dying to use that pack of condoms in my wallet.”

Thirty seconds later, their hotel exploded. Coulson who had just headed outside, went flying through the air. Nat and Clint went running towards the danger ahead.

--

(May 3rd 2013)

“Clint!”

He shot up instantly, panting heavily, eyes still unfocused-- Clint quickly surveyed the room as if he had been kidnapped or interrogated. Finding his enemy only for it to come up empty.

Not exactly the true anymore but certainly at time or another it had been the truth. Though that was a year ago to be honest. Manhattan had basically ended his super secret spy career and Natasha's for that matter.

Sometimes he thought maybe he missed it more than she did. Nights like this? Natasha probably missed it more than him.

Clint turned to his side and finger spelled nightmare to Natasha.

Natasha nodded and curled back on her side.

Wasn't exactly true, their mission in Monaco had actually turned out quite well-- it was Coulson that was his recurring nightmare.

Their lives were vastly different now. Then and Now might as have been the many lives of Natasha Romanova and Clint Barton. What had not changed however was field!agents vs. power!couple.

When working, Clint had near perfect hearing: he spoke, he sang (on pitch because he genetically had tone) and he spoke seven different languages. He was all American good boy that turned on people and killed them.

Natasha was a near emotionless killer with a habit of changing identities and jobs on command. She was the exotic beauty that men and sometimes women desired. The angel turned reaper on command.

In reality, Clint was a borderline forty something deaf man from Iowa who lost his hearing late enough in life to speak English without an accent and could sing because of genetics. His all American tourist was a joke because sports were so not his thing. In fact, generally even watching sports tended to bore him senseless.

Clint was more of a Food Network kind of guy-- and sometimes a closet drama television watcher. He may or may not have owned the entire series of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Possibly. Also, Angel (but it wasn't nearly as good) and he really liked Dollhouse. Additionally, drinking was not something he enjoyed off the clock (Agent Barton however was best friends with Whiskey and Beer) nor was gambling (another vice Agent Barton: undercover American enjoyed).

Natasha was anything short of emotionless when they were home. She wasn't typical but Natasha very much was a girl. Between Coulson and Hill (and Barton himself), they had actually managed to make her into a somewhat normal member of society.

Thursday's were spa day/girl day's out where Natasha would disappear and come back with clean nails, painted toe nails and a new pair of shoes. Clint would make dinner, and they would spend the night watching Grey's Anatomy.

She kind of liked being a housewife when they were home. Decorating the house during the holidays was by far her favorite form of entertainment. Clint usually joked that the house threw up decorations and Natasha had been one to feed it more crap.

Natasha had also named their dog-- Princess. Because apparently deep down on the inside, she was actually that girly. Though getting her admit it would never happen (but it was Clint who bought the female Yorkie).

Off the clock, they were a regular couple but on the field, they were anything but a couple. At least not since Budapest. It was their breaking point and burned them as working fake romantically or otherwise in the field. Though ironically it caused them to finally stop being stupid and move in together back in New York.

They owned an apartment around 121st street near Columbia University campus. Natasha had been undercover as a graduate student and broke up a ring of minor criminal enterprise a few years ago, the school offered them the apartment for free.

The real divide was not so much in lifestyle (these were things ingrained in both of them, sides shown carefully but always at the core of themselves true) but in their nightmares where everything blended into one great greek tragedy where everyone dies and no one would ever be safe again.

Natasha was always guilty of sin in dreams and Clint was always haunted by memories-- by Phil Coulson.

--

The phone was blinking-- they had a phone call. Clint got up and walked over to the phone turning it on.

“Hey Barton, can you hear me now?” Tony asked sarcastically knowing Clint wasn't looking at the screen yet.

Clint rolled his eyes when Natasha motioned that Tony had been talking to him, “You know I can't hear you, right?”

“Ah but you can lip read my deaf bird.”

Natasha then told him what Tony had said, “Nat's hanging up now! Something about annoying billionaires mocking handicap people… oh wait she means me.”

“Wait!” Tony cried as Natasha made a dramatic effort of turning off the video feed, “Shawarma-- one year birthday date. Big party. Bring all your friends.”

“We have friends?” Clint asked deadpan to Natasha.

“We do, their names are Agent Hill and Director Fury,” she retorted.

“Cold,” Tony protested.

Clint smiled, “We'll be there but uh you gotta bring Thor. He's not riding in my car again. Not after last time.”

Tony shuddered visibly, Thor was a very playful drunk (not that he was drunk but he made a good case for acting like a drunk Asgardian might actually be in life). A very playful drunk in a new car-- well it tended to end badly for the new car.

“Fine, Fine. He dents anything worth something-- your ass is paying for it.”

“HA!”

Natasha snorted off to the side.

“I heard that Romanov, unlike your spouse there- I'm not deaf.”

“I saw her,” Clint taunted him.

“Show off,” Tony remarked jokingly.

It might have been year since Loki tried to take over the world but it was three months ago that Thor had returned to Earth to save Stark from some evil villain when the other members of the team could not get to him. His sort of girlfriend, Jane had been rather pissed off that not once but twice Thor had used whatever power his father had to send him there and both times he failed to see her.

Clint had met her, Jane kind of scared him. In a way that most women were not capable of. Intellectually she was beautiful as a person she was kind of unstable.

Darcy, her assistant was more to Clint's liking- less accidentally crazy and more intentionally crazy. Like Natasha but the exact opposite. Possibly Clint was a hypocrite.

To make up for it though, Thor had been in town since then. He had decided he would not be returning to Asgard-- at least until Jane found a way to send him back and forth with ease. Which meant maybe forever. Who the hell knew anymore?

With him back they were a team, a full fledged BFF kind of team. Ironically Tony might be his favorite. They had almost nothing in common whatsoever but they got along great.

Enough that Clint had trusted Tony enough to let him come over not long after the invasion and find out for himself that Clint had little to no hearing capabilities. It was nothing Clint hid in his personal life but in the field, it was a guarded secret. It showed Tony that he liked him enough to let him see them off duty. Including Natasha's fondness for a dog named Princess that wore a pink bow in her hair.

Natasha and Pepper were Thursday spa day buddies. At first Clint had been terrified.

It showed how much Tony liked Clint that he never once suggested that he build him new ears. If anything, Tony found it funny and made jokes with ease with him over it. Not one to see no humor in being deaf, Clint liked to play along. It was their thing-- a weird possibly mildly inappropriate thing but their thing nonetheless.

“When we get there be warned I'm proposing to everyone…”

“You mean those secret blue prints we weren't supposed to know about?” Clint asked.

Tony nodded.

Natasha had found them and basically told on Tony one evening. They had been warned, no one else had but Bruce probably suspected it since he was already bunking in Tony's Tower even when Pepper and him were in Malibu.

“We'll work on our excuses by tonight then,” Clint joked.

“Bullshit, you will not. See ya then-- bye Nat.” Tony disconnected.

If anyone else had called her that, she might have killed them next time she saw them. Secretly she was okay with it but Natasha ideas of playing along was pretending to be imposing when she wasn't at SHIELD.

“Want to take the dog out for a walk?” Natasha asked when Tony was gone from their sight.

“Sure. I'll be back…” he knew a shove out the door when it was presented.

Clearly she was in work mode and maybe before the day was over she would actually tell him why.

All things considered this was the best morning either of them had in awhile.

--

Clint liked to pretend he was normal. Natasha tended to go along it for his sake. Well not so much pretend but ignore the few things that divided him from their society.

The warning bells had started a week ago. They both had questionable dreams. Generally the rule was if you had a nightmare, you shared unless you felt it was of no concern.

Clint had one nightmare about Loki and that was it. She only knew he was having the same one because he talked in his sleep but it never came back after the attack. The next night she heard Phil Coulson's name and had everyday since. When she asked, he deflected.

Then about a month ago, he started acting even stranger. Totally withdrawn from society, not the Clint Barton that Natasha had come to know. He was not taking side jobs (their undercover career was over but either were hardly short on work; the Avengers did to keep the peace or help innocents on the side), going out and hanging with Steve or Tony or even going on dates with Natasha.

A logical conclusion would be his guilt in Phil's death but Natasha had no idea what his dreams really were about. All the things Clint dreamed of were missions involving the three of them. Often ones that left Coulson injured or in need of help. Never the ones where Coulson was his highly competent self.

It was almost like Coulson was calling him from the grave.

There was the not so bright terrorist Mikael Olsen, the corrupt cop Anthony De Marino, the IRA ring… in everyone one of them Coulson had been injured.

Natasha waited for the other end of the line to patch her through, “Agent Romanov.”

“You owe me a few favors don't you, Agent Sitwell?”

--

(Midtown- May 4th 2013)

“I still can't believe you found this place by landing on top of the advertisement banner,” Bruce said amused when they sat down to a free private meal.

Tony shrugged, “Something to make you forget that it was possible we could all be killed.”

“Any distraction is a good one in my book,” Steve responded positively.

Steve in the past year had taken in the role of team Captain well. He had even made few friends of his own and had basically buddied up to Natasha.

Tony and him still had their moments but it was as close to harmony as they would maybe ever get.

Generally Steve was the encouraging one of the group, Tony was the loud mouth, Thor was inquisitive one, Bruce was the adult in the group, Clint was the loner, and Natasha was the mother. Natasha sometimes joked this set feminism back twenty years but all things considering Pepper kind of seemed like a scary dangerous she woman underneath those heels and Natasha wasn't always in killer mode.

They were all fine treating her like the den mother. Natasha secretly liked it until Darcy called her out on it over Christmas dinner. Then she went through avoidance of doing it for about a month before the team could convince her they liked her that way and it didn't make her any less dangerous.

Of them all surprisingly, Bruce was the one with the least amount of hangups. The most adjusted member despite turning into a giant green rage monster. He usually had no trouble chatting with anyone and while doing it managed to keep them from brooding. Clint was almost envious of this hidden talent.

“Next time Tony falls threw a banner, we'll go there instead,” Bruce countered sarcastically, “I'm thinking free McDonald's during monopoly month is the way to go.”

The team laughed at Tony's horrified face.

“Never!”

Steve gently tapped Natasha's shoulder as they waited for the food, “Is something wrong with Agent Barton? He's been quiet all night.”

Natasha looked over her shoulder to make sure that Clint was not paying attention to her, “Generally it means he's in a good place. Most of the time.”

“Not tonight?”

Natasha shrugged and went to sip her water, “He's been leaning heavily on off-duty mode all week. It's not normal.”

That was all she was willing to say without totally betraying the privacy they shared among each other. Clint's nightmares were only their business and no one else's. Even if it was explaining it would be harder to anyone of the group because they did not know them before Manhattan with the exception of Stark who only knew undercover Natalie Rushman.

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Bring Coulson back from the dead.”

She could feel as well see Steve's surprise from where she was sitting. The dumbfounded look on his face was impossible to miss.

“Something wrong?” Bruce asked the second he noticed their faces. Natasha looked uncomfortable by Steve's shock and Steve just looked beside himself.

The others glanced in their direction. Clint had been playing paper, scissors, rock with Thor and Tony had been texting Pepper while chatting with Bruce about an experiment.

“Uh no?” Steve said with it sounding more like a question than an answer.

After a beat, the table resumed their discussions but Clint's eyes seemed to be trained now on Natasha and Steve.

“I had no idea they were close…”

Natasha snorted, “What you know is my relationship with Coulson. I was amused by his hobby and his sense of extreme justice. I often felt he was not serious enough and too idealistic.”

That he had already come to know through their year as being friends. Natasha had liked Coulson, they were friends but not quite the same way Barton and him were.

“Clint's relationship with Coulson was vastly different,” Natasha continued, “They were like brothers. Coulson was older but Clint kind of felt responsible for him.”

“Why?”

“I don't know what you remembered from meeting him but Coulson's whole life was his job. First it was desk job and then it a field one and then it became both with his promotions. He had almost no personal life before us and Clint wanted to fix it. Coulson became his regular wingman whether he wanted to be or not. At times, it was funny-- sometimes I felt bad for Coulson he was clueless outside of SHIELD,” Natasha remarked.

Steve tried to picture it but failed to clearly come up from an image. He had long decided that Phil Coulson was obviously an idealist married to his career and very brave-- possibly a good fighter. Respected and admired by many but the few that knew him seemed to either be amused by him or not like in Natasha's case.

“He can get over anything… he can't get over Coulson.”

“I thought Barton was always Fury's pet,” Steve said.

“Oh he is-- definitely. Director Fury thinks Clint is hilarious and trust his judgment over just about everyone's. But Fury avoids us outside of work. Coulson usually didn't see us that often at work, it was more a personal relationship. I personally got along better with Hill but when Coulson died, she stopped coming around,” Natasha told him.

Maria and Natasha would have girl night's while Clint would take out Coulson and attempt to teach him things about life. How to get piss drunk for example or how to enjoy Stephen King's movies and not just the books.

“Did we really change everything for you?” Steve asked.

“Yes, you did.”

--

(September 2009)

“Are we really out of bandages?” Clint asked peaking down at the first aid kit.

Natasha turned it upside down for effect.

“Shit. Okay, no more getting stabbed by panicked drug dealers,” Clint joked holding up a finger sternly pointing at Natasha.

She rolled her eyes but silently agreed. Between the two of them, they had managed to use their entire collection in one sitting. It was dangerously close to one of them needing to be brought to an emergency room.

A sweep across the room told her that they were going to need to mop their kitchen floor it was covered in dirt and blood. That neither person's injury was fatal based on the shallowing wounds and watery looked the blood had (almost like a pale orange instead of a deep crimson).

“Couslon?” Clint asked.

“Passed out on the couch, I gave him what sedatives we had left,” Natasha confirmed.

“You know we should really try to spend more time here. The neighbors might try to rob us sometime when they figure out that we're never here,” he responded looking around noticing all the empty cabinets and the lack of food.

The only thing they had in their apartment was medical supplies and some furniture.

--

The changes they had gone through in the last year were big but truthfully, it was when Natasha was with Tony Stark that their relationship changed the most.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder and if anyone ever thought Natasha was an ice queen, they no longer did after Barton was gone from her presence for almost six months.

The avengers gave them a family but SHIELD had given them a life.

The first meeting they had AFTER Clint had decided to save her life was almost hard to believe now.

It was hostile.

(November 2005)

They were at a stalemate. Clint was sitting there sharpening a knife while Natasha sat across the table glaring at him. Part of her was glad that he had saved her life, the other part of her wanted to stab him to death with that knife.

Agent Barton had a made a call and then dragged her back while Natasha had screamed at him in Russian-- the entire way back.

Later on, Natasha would realize that it had no bothered him because he was deaf. Years after that, he would finally tell her how he ended up deaf. At the time, she just wondered how he ignored her so easily.

It would take three weeks before Natasha would be thankful that Barton made the call he did, and another few months before she would vow to herself to clean up her ledger and make it up to him someway.

At that point in time though, Natasha was a seventeen-year-old girl (and teenagers regardless of origins and years spent in the service of killers were still pains in the ass) and all she could do was imagine the ways she could cut him from ear-to-ear.

“I'm not one for talking so you never actually have to say anything to me if you don't want,” Clint offered finally after an hour of silence, “But make no mistake you won't be leaving here unless it's in a body bag.”

Natasha replied in broken english, “I h-at-e du.”

“Right back at ya kid. I don't do partners.”

--

At seventeen, Natasha was an emotionless killer. Clint turned into a teenager, an angry one but he humanized her.

At twenty-nine, Clint was an anti-social killer. Natasha turned a loner into a team player and rebuilt his trust issues. Something no one had managed to do before her.

At nineteen, Natasha told him what she knew about her old life.

At thirty-two, Clint told her about his entire life including about how he stabbed his own eardrums to their end.

At nineteen and thirty-two, Agent Barton and Agent Romanov had sex for the first time.

Two years later, Budapest happened.

At twenty-one and thirty-four, Agent Barton and Agent Romanov-- became Clint and Natasha. They moved in, they made friends with Coulson and Hill. They had weekly date nights and learned personal things outside of their long standing sexual relationship.

But four years later at twenty-five and thirty-seven, Clint and Natasha became a normal couple thanks in part to their new family and the loss of their undercover careers.

The Avengers had changed everything but sometimes Natasha wondered if it had truly been for the best.

Agent Romanov was feared by even their own agents. She was often found training, undercover, or in the kitchen planning tactical missions over a salad and a cup of coffee. She didn't socialize on base and she kept to herself.

Agent Barton would disappear for days on end and when he was around, he would terrorize the office staff and haze the field agents. He was anti-social and avoided the crowd.

After Manhattan, Natasha was no longer feared but admired, Clint had rookies always coming up to him hoping for some one-on-one training. Everyone wanted to console them and some wanted their autographs for their families.

And their desire to hang around work ended.

Natasha picked up Pepper, Jane, and Darcy.

Clint picked up Bruce, Tony, and Steve.

Then Thor arrived and it was a full on nine person orgy of togetherness. Their apartment was their last barrier from the group and now it was going to go away.

Natasha was afraid of what this all could mean.

Clint was excited but feared for his loner status.

Both were losing themselves between the nightmares and the rapid changes they had been forced to go through.

And deep down, Natasha knew they were bottoming out and it was only a matter of time before it all went crashing down on them.

--

(April 2011)

“Nat? Nar? You're burning up,” Clint proclaimed feeling her forehead trying to get her to pay attention.

Natasha sat at the breakfast table, her nose red, her eyes bloodshot, her gaze unfocused, and she was shivering slightly despite being fully clothed (head-to-toe with socks and long sleeves on) in early fall where the temperatures were far too warm for what she was even wearing.

“Huh?” she asked turning her attention to him.

Natasha rarely if ever got sick but when she did, it was usually pretty bad. Clint would get little colds at times and sometimes an illness related to be injured-- an infection-- an ear ache…

Natasha would always be fine until the day when she wasn't fine and everything turned on its head.

She was could feel the illness, had for about two days, ignored it-- now it was impossible if no other reason than Clint had found out.

Clint who at times had a nanny complex that he got from dealing with Phil Coulson. People often assumed that Phil was the team's babysitter. If anything Clint was his babysitter. Coulson was his desperate for attention and affection like a starved child (which partially explained his continued Captain America boyhood hero complex); he might have had a better childhood than both Natasha and Clint but Coulson the oldest in his family often was left to be the adult. Clint more worldly had taken away some of his burden and Natasha's mothering effectively brought him down to a child like status.

It essentially meant that if Natasha was down, then Clint would pick up the pieces and be left holding the parent role.

“I'm fine,” she said shortly despite the fact that they knew otherwise. Clint rolled his eyes and went over to the sink to soak a wet cloth for her.

'Beds that way,' he signed pointing towards their bedroom door.

Natasha got up and gave him the finger on the way out of the kitchen. Maybe she was glad Clint did this, certainly she would later when he would sing to her and feed her ice cream in bed.

--

For everyone Manhattan had been a life changing event. For the world that they fought for aliens had been exposed, For Steve Rogers, it was the sense of belonging he had been waiting for since he woke up months before. For Tony Stark it was like adopting a whole family:

Thor was the crazy uncle that walked around in his underwear on the deck at 3am (Thor didn't actually do this but Pepper's uncle in fact did),
Clint was the redheaded step child that liked his solitary confinement but was a real gift to have around. Fun when needing to be, serious when it called for it, brotherly when he felt like it, and responsible when the team sorely needed it.
Natasha was the anti-social sister. The one that called you a girl like she had cooties at the dinner table but meant it somewhat nicely despite its tone. She was also the one that would kick the bully's ass that picked on you down the block.
Steve was the favorite uncle who also was younger like the new American family. He was the wise one thanks to his elders but still naive about the world in a way that was endearing.
Bruce was the brother from another mother that happened to live next door and always come around to avoid his own family. He was the one you went to for everything that might be important.

Tony had lucked out, if anyone had benefitted from this team positively, it was him. For Thor it was almost the opposite, a sign of his failures and loss. Thor had lost the most by this arrangement-- a home, a family, and his friends. It was guilt that brought Thor to them and kept him here. He pretend to be jovial and kind but underneath everyone could see the sadness that plagued him.

For Bruce, it was starting over. A new life. A chance to do everything he never got to do, to find a cure, to meet a girl, to be a man, and to have a home. It was the second coming most people hoped to achieve at forty that never got to the first time around. It was almost humanistic in what this life had come to offer him.

But when it came to the “master assassins” no one was really sure what they lost or gained by this arrangement.

For Clint on the surface, it was a new team, something to foster and grow like he had did with Natasha and Phil. The chance to make lemonade from lemons. To fix what he failed to fix the first time. To save someone else's life the way he could never save his own or Phil's. At the same time, for Clint it was a sign that his life was no longer his own. That life had gone out of his control and he had no chance to reclaim it.

For Natasha, it was just another day, another place, another group of people. Or at least that was what everyone assumed. For Natasha it was a chance to have the life with Clint they never thought they could have. Neither would admit it and she more than him, wanted this life. They wanted the white picket fence, the dog, and maybe the kids much later. They wanted that chance. This was it but it came with conditions.

Dangerous conditions like Fame, Fortune and Family-- the ones that could hurt you the most in the end.

“You packed?” Clint asked her taping her on the shoulder.

“Yeah, it's not like we really kept anything here anyway.” She noted.

The only thing left were the memories of broken bodies, feverish dreams, and a silence that was unique to Clint that maybe they will never get back.

--

(May 5th 2013)

“Welcome to Stark Tower, I'll be your host Tony Stark,” Tony said throwing his arms up in the arm welcoming the group in.

Clint wanted to roll his eyes and point out that his hearing aids obviously weren't in but maybe this was a gift in disguise. Chances are he was just missing out on Tony's ego anyway.

“And where shall we sleep?” Thor demanded holding a sleeping bag, “I was told this is important tool used for sleeping.”

“… The beds have sheets,” Tony remarked looking at the torn up sleeping bag, it was a plaid red with little holes and tears noticeable on the sides and exterior.

“Sheets?'

Clint looked at Natasha wondering what he was missing.

Natasha shook her head, 'You don't want to know'.

“Follow me. First trained killers, this will be your floor,” Tony gestured once they arrived down two flights of stairs.

Tony tapped Clint on the shoulder and motioned with his hands like he was playing a game of charades, “Sleep here.”

Clint rolled his eyes.

“Funny,” Natasha said dryly.

“Am I missing something?” Steve asked nervously.

“Not a thing Captain.” Clint replied before walking off in the direction of the bedroom that Tony motioned to.

Steve looked at Natasha.

Natasha pointed at Tony, “He has a sick twisted sense of humor.”

“Are you going to tell me what I'm missing?” Steve finally demanded of Tony as Natasha left.

“Oh yeah, Legolas is deaf.”

Steve dropped his duffle bag in shock.

“Kind of amazing how he fights and all that good stuff right?” Tony asked gleefully, rubbing his hands together like he had personally designed Clint for combat instead of meeting him that way.

“Was no one ever going to tell me?”

“I was aware that Agent Barton was of the non-hearing. He did not flinch when I spoke of my tales on Asgard when everyone else did,” Thor said proudly.

It was true all the others felt if they had gone deaf from Thor's singing voice. Clint had been fine but somehow Steve had missed that little detail.

“Somehow I feel like I should have known that,” he said finally after the moment had passed.

So much for the theory that Captain America was the most sensitive or observational team member.

Tony patted him on the back, “It's okay Cap, maybe it's better that you didn't. In your day they would have just institutionalized him anyway. Called him mentally retarded. If you had known from the start, you probably would assumed he was stupid and incapable.”

Steve felt sick on the inside because he feared that Tony might actually be right.

--

Clint waited for Natasha to enter the room, “What are the odds that Tony makes Steve and Thor look like assholes over this?”

Natasha snorted, “One hundred percent.”

Clint flipped onto the bed and started pulling up the covers, “I'm closing my eyes, feel free to talk to yourself or just be silent.”

She nodded as she watched his eyes closed. Natasha sometimes had to wonder whether or not she would have liked Clint before his accident (it was a tragedy but truthfully hardly an accident). If maybe part of her attraction was that he could be silent and she could say whatever she wanted without him hearing all of it.

It made her wonder if she was the horrible person she used to think she had been back in Russia.

In the field, perhaps she should have thought him a danger to have around. Natasha should have insisted she had a partner that work on all cylinders. Anyone that knew anything about hearing aids were that they were not a cure, they did not give the person sound, they just gave them the ability to hear certain things around them.

Clint was deaf and there was no cure for it and no amount of super secret hearing aids made in a SHIELD lab were going to change it. Make him more effective.

Not that he needed, Clint was the best not only because of his eyesight but because he was deaf. He could pretend not to be and have people believe it. She knew most conversations they had he could not actually understand but instead of feeling pity or just giving up Clint would lip read. And if he missed something, Clint would fill in the blanks and keep on fighting till made him as normal as the next guy.

It was not a handicap, it was his tribute to his talent. It made his eyes that much sharper, better vision, better sense of smell and touch.

It made sex that much better. Nothing to say. Just do. Repeatedly.

“Do you ever miss hearing? Do you ever wonder what my voice must really sound like?” Natasha asked knowing she would never get an answer. Clint was awake but his eyes were closed.

Sometimes she dreamed of having a child and wondering if Clint would miss out because he would never hear its' screams.

--

(June 2006)

“Why did you do it?” Natasha asked slowly sitting down across from him.

This was the first time that she sat with Clint chatting with him while his hearing aids were not in his ears.

“I saw no other way out,” he replied after a minute.

Natasha had to remind herself not to look down at the table when the next question came to her mind. She knew it was insensitive but the morbid part of her, the part that was a killer wanted to know the answer before she even knew how she wanted phrase the question.

“How bad was the pain?”

Clint on instinct put his left hand to his ear and covered it as if to shield it from harms way.

“Which part? The ringing? That was like having someone tie a bell to my eardrum and crank up the volume. Or the part after that when I took an arrow and stabbed myself? Because that felt like I was dying and then I felt like disoriented lost at sea with no escape. I couldn't feel anything except pain. It was so painful that eventually became numb, I blacked out feeling nothing.”

His eyes became unfocused as if he was having a flashback to the situation.

Natasha reached her left arm tentatively to touch Clint's hand over his ear still. He flinched when he realized she was touching his ear.

Clint clenched her hand and brought them both to rest on the table, never removing his own from her grasp, “You didn't ask the most important question.”

“What's that?”

“Do I ever miss my hearing?”

Natasha stayed silent.

--------

Final side note- with sign language there are words and finger spelling— sometimes when words don’t exist like nightmares- you would sign bad dreams or finger spell. There’s also no grammar so the ‘’ are basically to show its a generalization not an actual.

The timeline goes from May 2002 (When Clint joined SHIELD in this verse) to August 2013 where he’s found after being captured; Natasha’s career at SHIELD starts in 2005.