He’s staring out the window when she walks in. She hadn’t been told anything, though she could have easily slipped his chart from the attendant. She didn’t need to read a medical report. He didn’t need to speak a word. She noticed it immediately.

Clint had always been hyper aware her presence. He would stand a bit taller, squint a bit harder, focus. She engaged his senses. First from a fear of being pitted against her. Then, slowly, as a means to make sure she was holding her own. Not that she wasn’t capable. She had covered his ass on more than a few dozen occasions. He simply couldn’t shake his protective instincts.

Clint Barton didn’t have much. What he did have, what he valued, he shielded with his life.

These were relevant as for the first time since she had walked into his life he didn’t register her presence. Even when he was comfortable with her, when he knew she was there, his left hand would twitch when she entered the room. She’d tease him that it was because he constantly wanted to pull back and release a tidal wave of vanquishing pain on her. He would tell her the only arrow he’d launch at her was cupid’s.

Being focused on the rain that streaked his dreary hospital window, he may not have been able to see her. Not when his functioning brain was resting. Even still her heels made an impressive clatter. Her breath was slightly heavier than normal. That’s where it became as clear as day.

Clint didn’t hear her. When he finally caught sight of her out of his peripheral, his hand twitched. He opened his mouth to speak but chose against it. Clint couldn’t say anything because he didn’t want to say anything. Not when he couldn’t hear it.

For the second time that evening, Natasha’s heart stopped. An assassin without their ears was as good as dead. Especially one who had to work so closely with their targets, and when visual focus was so crucial other cues kept you alive. What would he do? There was no stopping Hawkeye. His job was what he had left in this world. If he couldn’t be considered elite he’d lose their partnership too.

Fuck. That.

He sustained this injury serving a stranger. The world. He had seen her at her darkest moments. He had carried her through them where previous lovers, partners, commanders had swept her under the rug or manipulated her through her flashes of weakness. She wasn’t going to abandon him. Not here, not now, not ever. She owed that to him. She needed him.

Cold faced she marched forward. He flinched at the severity of her posture only to be taken by surprise when she practically pounced into the small hospital bed and buried her head against his chest. Her figure wrapped around him as much as it physically could in order to ground him and his thoughts. She wasn’t going to let him slip away if she had to stay like this, as embarrassing as it was, for always. They’d figure this out. He laced his fingers into her hair when she tilted her chin up to look at him.

“You‘re still Clint. Hawkeye. You’re still my partner. We’ll make it work.” she mouthed very clearly, not seeing the need for speech.

The smile he offered in return was anything but hopeful. She considered it a challenge. She was good at challenges.

Ooo, interesting look through Natasha's eyes! I like the idea that Clint wouldn't want to say anything when he can't hear what he's saying and Natasha thinking that giving Clint that huge hug at the end 'embarrassing' if it was a permenant thing. Also tht she doesn't see the need to speak if Clint can't hear her, matching herself to him.

The smile he offered was anything but hopeful. She considered it a challenge. She was good a challenges. I love how determind Natasha is and that they way this paragraph sits could mean that she considers making him smile a challenge, making him hope a challenge, or making it work a challenge.

I think you're far too insightful! Too be honest I completely did not intend the ambiguity at the end, but I'm really glad I did something like that! Haha. You made me out to be better than I am.

Thank you so much for your feedback. I hope you enjoyed!

Clint Barton didn’t have much. What he did have, what he valued, he shielded with his life.

THIS.