Trick or treat!

When Clint emerges from the elevator bank, he finds her sitting alone in the corner of the hospital cafeteria swirling a cold cup of coffee in one hand, a half eaten pastry lying lonelily on a napkin in the middle of the table.

"Okay, next time when I say I want to try to hang decorations on my ceiling, let me have Tony fly up and do the honors," Clint says, dropping down into the seat across from her. "Or at least let me check my ladder beforehand and make sure it's not 100 years old."

She doesn't answer, and Clint frowns. "Hey, come on," he chides, cracking a small smile. "Just bruises and scrapes. It's not even anything they need to give me medication for, so by Medical's standards, I'm totally, completely ten thousand percent fine. I think."

Natasha sighs, lifting her eyes and shoving the cup away. "It's not that," she says finally, her voice soft. Clint furrows his brow.

"So what is it?"

Natasha hesitates, looking a little embarrassed. "It's nothing. Really. It's just...dumb."

"Nothing is dumb," Clint offers gently, reaching across the table and putting his hand over her wrist. Natasha manages a smile, before pulling her arms away.

"I'm not really big into this whole Halloween thing."

"No, really?" Clint asks with mock joking, and Natasha glares.

"Really," she replies flatly. "All this wearing costumes and giving out candy and going out? Special Halloween drinks and food and parties?"

Clint shrugs. "Part of the American tradition," he says. "And I know you're not generally fond of spending time with random people, but that can't be why you're sitting here looking like someone just told you there's no Santa Claus."

Natasha sighs. "Everyone dresses up," she repeats. "Pretends they're something they're not. They get to dress as witches or animals or baseball players and I..." she trails off and Clint feels a lump form in his throat as understanding dawns on him. He reaches forward again without thinking, entwining their fingers.

"I've dressed up my whole life," she continues softly. "I've been so many different people, and never by choice. I've been pretending and wearing masks for as long as I can remember. And I have to stand by and watch other people do it for fun." She smiles a little sadly and Clint gets up, pulling at her hand.

"Come on," he says when she's finally standing. "We're going home."

"To greet trick-or-treaters?" she asks a little miserably, and Clint tightens his grip on her arm as he draws her to him.

"No. Kate's going to greet trick or treaters at my place. We're going to go back to your apartment and watch really scary movies and order take-out, and you're going to rank all the stupid costumes I've had over the years and tell me which one I deserved the most grief for." He smiles. "That a good way to spend Halloween?"

Natasha smiles back and nods into his arm and Clint leads them out of the cafeteria together, one hand wrapped around her waist.

Woah. That's a take on Natasha and Hallowe'en I wasn't expecting. Good stuff! Thank you. :)

Ahaha I feel I should apologize...I can't keep my angst at bay, apparently. But you're welcome! (And it turns out happy! Right? Yes. Right.)

What a different take on Halloween, and a little heartbreaking for Natasha. But I adore an understanding Clint and love the fluff ending. :)