Clint makes it a rule to avoid Medical whenever possible. The place makes his skin crawl, makes the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, reminds him of all the many ways he is fragile and human and fated to die someday.

He realizes, halfway down the hall leading to the high security ward, that this is the first time he’s ever come here willingly, on a visit.

“Here to see Romanoff?” asks the young agent serving as security guard outside her door--Tom, Clint thinks, or maybe Tim. The look on his face is a mix of curiosity and incredulity, which always seem to be defining characteristics of the S.H.I.E.L.D. rumor mill.

“Yes,” Clint says simply, setting down the takeout cup he’s carrying before taking off his jacket and making a show of turning out his pockets for the security check.

Tom raises an eyebrow. “You come to rubberneck or you actually believe her story?”

“Open the damn door,” Clint says tiredly, retrieving the cup but leaving his jacket where it is for the moment. If he has one regret about bringing in the Black Widow, it’s the fact that people won’t stop asking him questions about it. “You did your job.”

Tom shrugs and turns to the security controls to the room, punching in a code before scanning his thumb print. “When she eats you, I won’t be the one cleaning up the mess.”

(Read the rest on AO3 (http://archiveofourown.org/works/1179878))

COMMENT AGAIN BECAUSE OF FABULOUSNESS. <3

This is great! Also, Tom is a jerk. :P

<3

SO MUCH LOVE FOR THIS!

My heart hurt for Natasha. And a little for Clint too.

And the whole scene in Central Park -- GUH -- MY FEELS!

Off to read this again!