"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth."

This is beautiful. I'm going to head to bed and ponder it overnight.

Oh that's so gorgeous. I would love to see this prompt filled. :)

You're in luck then ;)

*does a happy happy dance*

I have a thing about names and naming, especially when it comes to Natasha <3

Clint's parents died when he was too young to have formed any lasting memories of them. The only thing he has to remember them by is a faded photo Barney gave him at the funeral, which he keeps in the pocket inside his jacket so that the other kids at the orphanage can't find it. Sometimes when he's alone and out of their reach, he takes the photo out and stares at his parents' faces, trying to imagine how his name would have sounded when they called him in for dinner, told him off, reassured him they loved him. He has nothing to go on, and so he always fails. The best he can do is whisper his name to himself while clutching the photo to his chest, and listen as the leaves of the tree echo it back to him.

It always sounds lonely.

--

The girl has no parents. Or rather, she does, but she has never known them. She grew up being passed between families who never kept her long enough to give her a name, who thought she wouldn't live long enough to need one, too skinny and small to survive the harsh winters that come every year. Consequently she has only ever been addressed by “girl” or “child”, or sometimes the name of the most recently deceased female child in the family in order to soothe a grieving mother for a time.

None of this bothers her. A name is only a name, it is not who she is, and so she answers to anything they call her.

--

At six years old, Clint knows how his name sounds when it's said by a brother who is annoyed at him for being too small, too slow, too weak. At seven, he's got used to how it sounds when kids at the orphanage sneer at him, threaten him, cajole him. By the time he's eight, he's all-too-familiar with how it's shouted at him by adults when he's been climbing trees or balancing on fences or jumping across rooves. The strong tones and anger that lace their voices scare him at first – even Barney when he's mad doesn't sound like that – but the impact lessens as he grows older. He comes to expect that his name will always be said in anger and forgets what it is like to hear it any other way.

--

When the girl is five years old, men in suits arrive to take her away to a place that is not a house but will be where she lives. They tell her that she will answer to 'Nadja'. It's a name but they don't use it as such. Instead it serves as a way to refer to her so as to avoid confusion with anyone else. The word is easy to remember and so she does not mind. While she is with them, that is how she refers to herself, and it is acceptable.

--

At the circus, for the first time in his life Clint has a nickname.

Well, it's more of a stagename, but it's the coolest thing he's even been called. When they call him Hawkeye, it sounds like the opportunity to be something more than anyone has ever expected of him. It's success and pressure and showmanship; it's half an hour in the ring giving the audience the time of their lives; it's his cue to put on a stupid costume and become the incredible archer painted on all the posters. He loves it and he fears it, because they gave it to him but he has to show them that he deserves to keep it, and he's damn well not going to let them down.

--

Under the orders of the KGB, Nadja goes by many names. Every mission brings a new one, complete with clothes and personality and appearance. There are no constants save that she accepts every one of them with equal ease. Her targets call her Stefanida and compliment her hair style, Andreea while they gush over her ruthless business ethic, Inkena as they escort her around a ballroom. She flirts and charms and smiles, inhabits her character completely, and feels as much affinity with those names as she does with Nadja.

--

The Amazing Hawkeye stays at the circus when Clint joins the army, where he is Barton rather than Clint. It is a reminder of his position, whether or not it is preceded by his rank. Early on it is used to keep him in his place, to remind him that he's no better than anyone else. Even after they've discovered what he can do and realised they can use his skills to their advantage, that doesn't change much. They still use his name as an order; the only difference is that the words coming after it send him to more interesting places than before.

--

The Red Room takes Nadja while she's in the middle of a mission, pump her body and mind with chemicals and electricity, enhance her natural skills and train her to be even better than she was before. She is their creation, their property, their child. They give her a new name and congratulate her with it every time she returns from a mission, always successfully. She is closed in her rooms with a thick door they lock behind her, but it is not that which reminds her who she belongs to.

--

In many ways, working at SHIELD is much the same as being in the army. There was no Phil Coulson in the army though, with his extra-dry sense of humour, scary-as-shit deadpan expression, and a seemingly endless ability to put up with Clint's disregard for protocol. It takes a good few months but they work well together, and Clint's pretty sure that Coulson actually likes him. Clint is still 'Barton' but when they're not on a mission, it's 'Barton' said with amusement or exasperation or affection, sometimes all three at once. Of course sometimes it's an utterly calm 'Barton' which means Clint's about to get a strip torn off him as soon as they're in the office, because they might like each other but Phil's still his boss. However Phil says it though, it's the closest Clint's ever got to hearing his name spoken with something that's genuinely friendly in it.

--

When she defects from the KGB, SHIELD ask her if her name is really Nadja. She decides that no, it is not, and tells them she is Natasha.

It is not a name she can remember having gone by before, so she can safely make it hers. They ask her if her last name is actually Romonova; like 'Black Widow', it's more of a title than a name so it stays, albeit slightly altered to better fit with her new American citizenship.

Conversations die down when people see her, but she's far better at her job than they are at theirs so she hears them talk anyway. People say her name with suspicion, with fear, with dubiousness dripping from every syllable. They use it as a warning, tie it to her past, make predictions about her future. She understands but she doesn't like it. Natasha is who she is now; encompassed within the name are her skills, her beliefs, her talents. She's earned the right to her name and she will defend it for as long as she has to.

--

It takes them a long time to trust each other. They call each other Barton and Romonoff for six months, cautious, testing, wary. Clint and Natasha creep in slowly, never around others, and the reserve remains for another six months before it disappears.

Eighteen months after he meets her, in the aftermath of a mission gone just a little bit wrong, Natasha sits by Clint's bedside with a fond smile on her face. Shaking her head, she tells him “You're an idiot, Clint.” As she says his name, Clint feels something inside him ache and reach out for the past. Out of the blue, he remembers being an eight year old boy desperate to hear his parents say his name and despairing because he never would. The despair fades now and he smiles as he shuts his eyes. When Natasha says it like that, precise and clear and warm, like she's taking the utmost care of it and him, his name sounds just the way he's always wanted to hear it.

Two years after SHIELD recruits her, Natasha is sent on an undercover mission that could take months to complete. Clint spends the night with her before she leaves and murmurs “Good luck, Natasha,” while he holds her tight. Natasha feels a weight lift as she hears him speak her name soft and low and careful; he speaks it like he means it no harm, like it belongs to her and he's just taking care of it for as long as she's not in possession of it. For once she knows that both it and he will be waiting for her when she returns.

Edited 2012-07-20 08:21 pm (UTC)

This is so gorgeous - I kept saying "yes, yes, THIS" in my head as I read. I love the details, the progression, the different aspects of what names mean and how they make them (and everyone else) what they are. :)

Aw yay, that makes me very happy to hear, thank you! A lot of the concepts in the different snippets, I would get down and then re-read and go "Is this what I meant to say? It sounds different now. Does it even make sense?!" So, pleased it works ;) Thank you for the lovely comment!

<3

:D

You made me cry with hOw beautiful this is. Wow.

Oh wow, thank you! That's such a huge compliment, it makes me ridiculously pleased to receive it. I'm so pleased to hear that you enjoyed this, and many thanks for commenting <3

Oh, my Thor, this is freakin' amazing. LOVE, LOVE, LOVE IT!!!!!

Just...wow. Wow. WOW.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh, this is gorgeous. ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

You just ripped my heart out with this. Lovelovelove!

I have a fascination with names and naming, especially when it comes to Natasha <3 I hadn't considering about Clint and names, what with the circus and the army, and I love what you did there. Instant Headcanon :D

I really like the contrasts between them too: when Clint is given a name, Hawkeye, it's something he wants to live up to and struggles to live up to, but for Natasha when she's given a name it's just 'acceptable', something to distinguish her. It's only when she choses a name for herself that she has something to defend. For her it's about choice and becoming, and for Clint it's about acceptance of his original name; for her a possession that she lends to him, for him something that he's always wanted. I love that <3

Absolutely beautiful. :D

This is just gorgeous. I love how the two of them are both searching for something they don't quite understand (because they've never had it) but recognise it when they hear it. What a lovely fill for such a lovely prompt.

So lovely and poignant and everything I had hoped for this prompt <3 <3 <3

This has such a beautiful evolution to it. And the re-naming theme for Natasha perfectly underscores/summarizes her entire journey of self-reclamation. Gah. All the feels. And Clint? Even more feels. He just wants to hear his name said with love, by someone who gives a damn, someone who cares for him. And here they both are, after all this time, after living without it for so long--they finally find what they seek in the other. So much love for this, my friend.

Really beautiful stuff. An immensely satisfying read. <3

Aww! This is lovely (and also sad but in the best way, you know what I mean :D) I really love the parallels and the significance of the naming, and I love the idea that Nat's never had a name of significance until she gives it to herself. LOVE that so much. This is lovely :)

This is very beautiful, sweet, and sad all wrapped up in one pretty package. Very nice job.