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Summary:

(n.) the act of loving in return
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Loki is defeated, New York and the planet as a whole saved. In the wake of the battle, the Avengers all take some moments for themselves and decide that they're willing to try this team thing out on a more permanent basis. Bonding isn't without its challenges, but they're all stubborn and willing enough to make it work, and none too soon to address more of those threats Nick Fury had in mind with them...
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or, the Avengers actually becoming friends and Clint and Natasha realizing they're in love with each other

Notes:

This is 100% self-indulgent and has grown a lot from when I first started on it, and definitely fits in going back to the ~2012 era in several ways. As much as this is MCU based there's a lot of inspiration taken from other Marvel properties as well for sure, and plenty of pure headcanon! It is definitely a Clint and Natasha story first, an Avengers story second though.

Also, I promise that the characters/relationships tagged already will play a bigger role as this goes on and aren't just tagged for brief inclusions, and that there are still several more characters coming! :)

Chapter Text

There was an unspoken agreement for Clint and Natasha to slip away from the group with their drinks while the others took Loki and his scepter away.

Natasha had put in her word for taking him to the New York SHIELD base and figured the other so-called Avengers could muscle their way through any issues that might crop up on the way when handling an alien threat who had just caused a major incident.

And letting Fury work out the containment details with Thor sounded like a great idea. She had her own shit to deal with after the nonstop events of the previous days, after all.

Clint had wordlessly gone for the balcony when the others left, a half glass of Stark’s whiskey and the bottle in hand. Momentarily frowning, Natasha followed with her own glass and settled beside him to lean against an intact section of the balcony railing.

He idly swirled his glass before drinking it, keeping his gaze focused on the damaged cityscape before them.

Plumes of smoke rose from piles of rubble, occasional fires burning within. A couple large carcasses of the alien behemoths were visible where they had crashed into buildings after the portal had been closed, trails of destruction left from the impacts. The wails of sirens carried up from all over the area as emergency vehicles worked on starting to manage the aftereffects of the attack.

Natasha downed her own whiskey in a gulp and gave him several moments to stare before saying anything, her voice quiet. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” Clint broodily asked, still not looking at her.

Which was frustrating enough, that he couldn’t at least comfortably do that.

She pursed her lips. “You’re not the one that brought and commanded the alien army. What happened here isn’t on you. It’s all on Loki.” She made sure to sympathetically soften her voice. “Stop blaming yourself.”

Clint morosely chuckled. “Doesn’t change the fact that half that half of New York is on fire because of aliens that I helped bring here, inadvertently or not.”

“Don’t overlook that you helped to stop the same aliens.”

He finally looked at her, all the lines in his face tight and the drawn circles under his eyes startlingly apparent. “No one’s forgetting this any time soon. I mean, shit,” he sighed while throwing his hands out, sending the rest of the whiskey momentarily sloshing around. “I’ll be lucky if Coulson doesn’t have me doing weekly psych evals for the next five years at minimum from this.” When Natasha’s expression stayed slightly too impassive he frowned at her. “Nat, whatever it is-.”

It took more effort than she would have liked to keep herself from swallowing. “I’ll tell you after you’ve slept.”

“Nat.” Clint couldn’t help the slightly desperate rising note to his voice, concern evident in the set of his brow while he searched her expression for some clue to the situation. “You’re scaring me.”

She gently took the bottle from his hand, hovering her fingers over his for an extra moment than was probably necessary while she looked him straight in the eyes. “You’re exhausted and I doubt Loki let you have any sleep while he had you. Take one of Stark’s many available bedrooms and get at least a few hours in before we start to deal with the aftereffects, Barton.”

His eyes darkened a shade. “I’ve been managing well enough-.”

“Don’t make me take you there myself, I will take you down again if I have to,” Natasha said with a note of warning before she softened her expression. “I’ll be right there and won’t let you sleep through anything important, but Clint, please. You need it.”

He stared at her for a second, his jaw tightly clenched before he gave another sigh and relaxed his shoulders. “Fine,” he absentmindedly flapped a hand at her, “I’ll sleep for a couple hours. And then I’m hearing what you’re not telling me.”

She nodded. “I promise.”

They only had to go down a few floors to find a guest room, and Clint quickly settled down, setting his bow and quiver aside in easy reach before stripping off his top tactical layers and almost immediately falling asleep as soon as he put his head to the pillow.

His sheer exhaustion in the moment aside, Natasha had always been impressed by his ability to instantaneously fall asleep practically anywhere on demand. She always needed at least a few minutes, and he managed to get surprisingly deep sleep despite being on alert enough that a single wrong sound could wake him up.

Natasha set her weapons aside and curled up in the chair she dragged over from the guest room’s living area to watch Clint as he slept.

His breathing was steady, his expression surprisingly peaceful under the circumstances.

Something unclenched in Natasha’s gut with relief at the sight. It was only a start, but it was something to have her partner back to himself.

Her belt buzzed, and she held back a sigh as she retrieved her phone from inside a pocket.

A text from Maria.

She carefully glanced back to the bed, gauging for any shift in position or other movement.

If Clint had woken up at the sound he wasn’t showing her. She suspected that it was more that he was exhausted enough to completely crash.

Figuring that he was doing well enough, Natasha opened the text. Thought you might want to know that Stark and all have Loki safely on the way to the NY base with a whole group of accompanying agents. Another text buzzed in. Should we be concerned that you’re not coming in with them? How’s Barton?

We’re as good as we can be, Natasha texted back. I’m making him sleep.

Maria’s response was a few more moments in coming. Is that good or bad?

Natasha hesitated for a second before typing. He doesn’t like it but he needs it, especially before I catch him up on the last several days.

They both were silent for a moment, Maria going up and down with the typing signal before she responded. Let me know if you need anything, I’ll see what I can do.

It was going to take a long time to adjust to not having Coulson around.

Natasha put the phone away and leaned her head against the back of the chair, briefly closing her eyes as she exhaled before looking back at Clint. They both still smelled all too strongly like dirt and soot with a side of blood, something acrid in the mix that she guessed was from the aliens.

At least only a fraction of the blood was theirs.

With the time for it and not much of anything else to do while she waited for him, she double checked to catalogue any injuries she had obtained during the course of the fight. The small cut on her forehead, a split bottom lip, a few of what were definitely going to become ugly bruises on her hip and thigh, the consistent twinge of her ankle that she’d need to visit medical just to check…

Clint looked to be relatively unscathed from the fight, thankfully, beyond a few small cuts and bruises. She guessed there were a few other bruises down his chest and legs, but at least there weren’t any slashes through his undershirt or pants. The most substantial injuries seemed to be from where she had bitten his wrist and the faint mark of the cognitive recalibration hit.

All together not too bad, especially for coming out on the other side of a genuine battle with aliens.

After a second she pulled her phone back out and started writing sections of her inevitable report. Two hours in Maria texted an update that Loki had been secured at the base under fulltime watch. It was another hour before Stark’s AI spoke in the room.

“Agent Romanoff, Agent Barton? Mr. Stark has asked that you hurry to the SHIELD base so that all the Avengers team can discuss what happens to Loki next with Director Fury. Deputy Director Hill has already arranged for transportation, which should be arriving shortly.”

Clint had shot up with a sharp inhale at the start of the message, instinctively reaching for his bow before realizing there was no active threat. “Who’s that?” he carefully asked, eyeing the ceiling with suspicion before glancing to Natasha.

“I am JARVIS, Agent Barton, Mr. Stark’s AI.”

He slowly nodded, shooting the ceiling a slightly incredulous look. “Right. The AI.”

Natasha stood, grabbing her belt and locking it back into place before nodding at Clint. “Anything you want to get out of the way before we go?”

“When do I get to hear the important thing you wanted me to wait for?” he drily asked while pulling his tactical layers back on and gearing up with practiced ease, not looking away from her beyond double checking that he was strapping everything through the right spot.

“On the way to the landing pad?”

Concern fell back over his expression. “How bad is it?”

She was starting for the door and waited for him to follow before replying. “How much do you remember from the Helicarrier?”

“I took out a rotor, infiltrated with the others, and was working on taking systems down and getting to Loki when you found me.” He paused for a deep breath, continuing in stride with her. “We fought, and you got through before hitting me really hard on the head, then I woke up in medical, we talked for a bit, then left with Captain America himself to get to the fight here.”

“And what have you heard already about what happened while you were unconscious?”

Clint hit the up button for the elevator and angled towards Natasha. “Loki escaped to get here and we were left with a mess on the Helicarrier and Manhattan. What else?”

“Coulson confronted Loki while he was threatening Thor.” Her voice was soft. “Loki killed him while he made his escape.”

Clint blinked at her, his eyes slowly widening before he briefly closed them, shakily inhaling. “Coulson’s dead?” His voice barely came out above a whisper.

She swallowed and wordlessly nodded, glancing down for a second. “Clint-.”

He pulled her against him into a tight hug with a single breath, burying his head against her shoulder and ignoring the small surprised sound she made. “Goddamn it,” he exhaled, “he had to play the hero. Goddamn it, Coulson.”

She closed her eyes and tightly hugged him back, only pulling away when the elevator dinged. “We’re supposed to hear about the funeral as soon as possible,” she somberly said while they stepped inside and she pressed the button for the roof.

Clint leaned against the nearest wall of the elevator with one shoulder, crossing his arms. “Do you know how it happened?”

“Not in detail.”

He was quiet for several floors, his voice quiet when he did talk again. “Did Fury or Hill tell you anything about what they’re thinking for me going forward?”

“Nothing negative.”

“Nat.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m not hiding anything. I’ve barely had time to get any updates from Maria, let alone discuss what Fury’s plan is for us. We’ve all been busy.”

A dark chuckle escaped Clint. “Sorry Nat, you might become a one-woman STRIKE team because of this.”

“It’s not STRIKE Team Delta without you,” she said, her eyes intense. “I’m not replacing you anytime soon, Clint, and you’re a damn good agent. No one’s forgetting that. Don’t be the one that does.”

They reached the roof and stepped out of the elevator, both instinctively scanning the surrounding skyline for any approaching aircraft.

“Looks like a Quinjet at three o’clock,” Clint commented after a moment before groaning. “Man, air clearances have got to be hell right now.”

She gave an affirmative hum before crossing her arms. “We’re only delaying this conversation until a good opportunity to actually discuss it.”

He nodded. “We’ll talk. I promise.” He shifted his weight between both feet. “Especially once we get Loki taken care of and I hear whether or not I’m being fired.”

“If Fury fires you,” Natasha lightly said, “I’m quitting in solidarity. We can look for a new job together.”

Clint managed a little laugh, sounding that much more entirely like himself. “Thanks for being a ride or die partner.”

They waited in comfortable quiet for the Quinjet to finish its approach to the Tower and quickly boarded, the pilots bringing them airborne before the bay door was halfway closed.

Natasha watched it shut, always more comfortable with visually ensuring that it acted as it was supposed to before looking away. “Do you want to talk about what your vote is going to be as far as Loki goes?”

“I know I’ll probably sleep a lot better going forward if I could stick an arrow through his eye socket, but I’m planning on being a little more tactful than that.” He casually shrugged with both shoulders. “Depends on what Thor says though for that, I suppose.”

“I don’t know that an arrow through the eye would kill him.”

“But it’d still hurt, and he’s certainly vain enough to feel it if it wouldn’t kill him,” Clint wryly remarked.

“And if you can’t enact any physical revenge?” Natasha asked with an even expression, not at all bothering to hide the fact of how intensely she was watching him.

Clint directly met her eyes. “I dunno. Guess I’ll just manage dreaming about it before letting go and moving on. Probably with a lot of psych evals on the way.”