[Private Spam for Natashas]

[worldsbestmarksman]

[When Mal makes a post Clint does a quick search of the ship. He'd hidden for different reasons, taking time to heal his broken arm. It's still in a sling but they say he'll heal fast.

It's a hell of a place. This ship. In more ways then one. When he stops in front of her room he taps on her door, two sharp taps and a long one.

Then he speaks.]

...Go ahead, open the door so you can laugh at my mullet.

Comments

[persuadeyou]

[There's no answer at first, and it looks like Clint may get the same treatment anyone else trying to contact her has gotten. But if he's listening close, there's some movement inside, and then the lock clicks on the door. It's another moment before she opens it, and when she does, she looks neutral, almost normal.

Except she doesn't look pleased to see him, doesn't look at him like she usually does - like they share a joke that no one else is in on, like they went through hell several times and brought back souvenirs - she just looks blank.]

It was awful. [She hasn't actually spoken in days, and her voice grates, just a little.]

[worldsbestmarksman]

[He doesn't ask if he can come in, he just stands there knowing that she'll let him in when the time comes. Now is not the time for jokes.]

Yep.

[For reasons he cannot even begin to fathom but he'll try.]

When was the last time you ate?

[persuadeyou]

[Which she's grateful for, in a way; because she knows she should be mocking his mullet, but the words just aren't coming. She doesn't step aside, not yet, because behind her the room is still in pristine condition, her communicator is on the floor in the corner, and the little cot that she spent the first two decades of her life in actually looks slept in, something she never did before the flood.

She just shrugs at his question, still silent; silence is easier than saying 'I don't know' when she really means 'when I was eleven, just before I decided to kill all of you.']

[worldsbestmarksman]

[Clint studies her seriously.] If I bring you back some food will you eat it?

[Very quietly] Natasha.

[persuadeyou]

[She lifts her head a little, meets his eyes before looking away and stepping back so he can come in. Natasha. Not Natalia, not Comrade Romanova - she clenches her jaw a little and banishes the thought as best she can, closing the door behind him.]

I'm not hungry. [Her stomach has long since moved past its grumbling demands, and she hasn't quite clued in on the headache that should be telling her to eat something. It hasn't distinguished itself from the headache she woke as an adult with, from her head crashing into the wall.]

[worldsbestmarksman]

I'll hold you down and make you.

[He looked around.] ...May I sit? [Stilted, polite. He's not risking anything to damage her comfort zone.]

[persuadeyou]

[She doesn't snort at the joke, though there's a quiet sound that could have been one, but hadn't quite made it all the way there. Natasha doesn't answer at first - there are no chairs, the only surface is the dresser, a night table, and - her cot. It holds her attention for a few beats too long, before Natasha makes herself nod.]

If you want. [She stands, though, a few feet from it.]

[worldsbestmarksman]

[He folds his hands in front of him and sits, breathing deep.]

...talk to me?

Please?

[persuadeyou]

[Talk. Yeah, she remembers how to do that, but she still makes no move to say anything. Her eyes shift to his arm in its sling, and shift away again. She doesn't want to talk. She wants orders - she never wants to hear orders again - she wants to forget that ever happened. Her jaw clenches for a long moment before she makes herself relax; it's difficult.]

How's your arm? [She doesn't look at him.]

[worldsbestmarksman]

[Clint wiggles his shoulder and doesn't wince] it broke clean. Didn't tear anything. It's funny, I did the exact same thing when I was that age. I was trying to impress a girl then too actually.

[He looks mildly amused] I was kind of a little shit.

[persuadeyou]

[Her jaw works, and her mouth quirks in something almost like a smile.]

Kind of?

[It fades again, but after a moment she goes and sits next to him on the cot, carefully. It wasn't really made for adults, let alone two. Her eyes settle on the sling for a long moment before she can look up at him and meet his eyes.]

I'm sorry.

[worldsbestmarksman]

Why? [Clint can't keep shut then.] None of that was your fault.

[His voice is gentle but firm.] It was here, and it was a situation that you had absolutely no control over.

[The other arm goes around her shoulders, squeezes, and withdraws. He'll risk physical injury for that but Natasha, this upset...]

[persuadeyou]

[Her shoulders go a little stiff at the hug, but she doesn't try to throw him off. She just looks away, at the far, red, red wall.]

It wasn't just...some other version of myself, [she starts, so slowly it's like she's debating talking at all.] That was me. That was me, back then. Before SHIELD.

[She pushes hair out of her face and stands again, pacing away. She doesn't hold herself, because it makes her feel fragile, just keeps her hands in fists, tight at her sides.]

I was going to kill Steve.

[worldsbestmarksman]

[Clint doesn't say anything to that, instead he leans forward and sits. Listening before he folds his hands.]

How'd that make you feel?

[persuadeyou]

[She stops and looks at him, and the corner of her mouth actually twitches.]

Are you seriously playing therapist?

[worldsbestmarksman]

[Clint's own expression remains stoic - but he's repressing some slight mirth.

A little more then slight.]

...If I did do you think I could convince you to pay me 500 bucks?

[ Attempted smile and...back to serious. Sighing, he claps his legs but doesn't rise.]

Natasha, I'm biased. No matter what anyone says I have unwavering faith in you ultimately doing the right thing. It's hard, but you made the right choices and you'll make more.

Nobody can fault you for how you were raised. Everybody's different, the thing is how you chose to use it. It sounds really Tolkien, but it's true I mean...You had incredible training. I was raised by clowns.

[He suppresses a shudder] I chose to do this instead of becoming a criminal, and...you chose it too no matter what you might think.

[persuadeyou]

Not a chance, [she murmured, leaning against the wall to face him. She looked away, though, broke eye contact with his speech and let her hair fall forward over her shoulder while she crossed her arms. His faith in her had always meant a lot; it had meant redemption, and a second chance. She was supposed to get those things there, but she'd already had them when he made a bid to bring her into SHIELD.

She didn't know what she was supposed to do here. And it was hard, having it thrown in her face again when all she wanted was to forget.

But she nods, eventually, quiet.]

Yeah. I guess you're right. [She doesn't have that kind of faith in herself - but she has it in him.]

[worldsbestmarksman]

[He'll believe in both of them. that's what being a circus performer does. It makes you think magic's possible.

In this case however he's pretty sure it is.]

can I ask you a really weird question?

[persuadeyou]

[He'll need to. Her mouth crooks just a bit at the corner, but she nods. and despite herself, she's a little curious to know what he considers weird.]

[worldsbestmarksman]

Is there something else...honestly that you'd rather be doing?

[He doesn't sound sarcastic or unhappy or angry, just curious. Genuinely curious.]

I mean like, a hobby or a job or do you want to learn how to knit or sew?

[persuadeyou]

[Her eyebrows arch at that. It's not that she's never been asked the question, it's that the option was never on the table.]

Do I look like I want to learn to sew?

[She shrugs, and pushes off the wall to pace slowly, from one end of the small room to the other.]

You know my skill set. I don't really have hobbies.

[worldsbestmarksman]

First thing that popped into my head.

[He considers this] Do you...want a hobby? I mean have you ever thought about that? More then just movie nights.

I... [He had hobbies.] I used to read a lot of carnival enthusiast blogs.

[persuadeyou]

[She makes a noise that's almost a snort, almost a laugh. Carnie blogs. Somehow,she isn't that surprised.]

Never thought about. [How did she spend her down time? Sleeping, sometimes reading in preparation for the inevitable next mission. Sometimes she missed ballet, but--]

Guess it's not really my thing.

[worldsbestmarksman]

...Do you want it to be a thing? I mean something you could do?

[He rubs his head] Natasha...I think it sounds pretty lame but...I dunno sometimes there are things I do do...to go unwind. Thinking up creative dominoes pizzas, that kind of thing.

[persuadeyou]

I work out. [She just shrugs again, looking away. Unwinding isn't exactly something she's good at. Relaxation just makes it easier to let your guard down, and that's something she'll never do.]

I'll be fine, Clint. You don't have to hang out and...worry about my hobbies.

[worldsbestmarksman]

..I'm not worrying about hobbies, I'm worried about you right now.

[His tone is firm] You don't have to come out, but will you let me bring you something to eat?

[persuadeyou]

[She rubs at her forehead, scratching her eyebrow. She doesn't make idle gestures, so the fact that she is now says something. She's uncomfortable. She wants to wallow, she doesn't want to eat, she just wants to sit here, and think about every bad thing she ever did for the Red Room - so she can forget them again.

She shrugs, finally, and nods.] Yeah, sure, if it'll make you feel better.

[worldsbestmarksman]

[He rises] I just want to make sure you're okay Natasha.

[persuadeyou]

I'll be fine. [She makes her voice firm, nods, even lets a smile creep into the corner of her mouth. Natasha knows how to play pretend better than anything, and she knows how to seem normal.]

I just need some time to work it out of my system.

[worldsbestmarksman]

[Outwardly he falls for it...inwardly he's not convinced. Prepare to be tailed Natasha.] ....You sure?

[persuadeyou]

[Bring it. It'll still be a fe days before she leaves her room. :c But she gives him a small smile, and nods.]

I'll be fine, [she repeats.]