Okay - I am writing author's note on February 22, 2015, almost two years after this was published. This piece is a product of my ever-evolving writing style; two years, I was not the best writer. I was not good at staying in character and frankly, I wrote about scenes that I had no knowledge of and probably should not have written about. For that, I apologize, and ask you as readers to be aware as the stories go on.

Thank you. Please tell me what you think.

Jealous

by: the-speed-reader

"I guess what scares me the most now is the thought that I won't be able to protect you." -Julia Hoban

Over the years as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, Clint Barton has held the eye of many recruits – new, old, young, pretty; none of it mattered through. He was, quiet honestly, married to his job. He was also a rather kind man – if you didn't cross him, that is. His partner was the one many watched out for; and admired from afar.

They were a team, but he was old and she was young – she took no notice of feelings, passing them aside as thoughts made in lapse of judgment.

He, however, believed in love and soul mates; she said love was for children.

To his eye, she failed to noticed his love for her.

After Loki had been taken away by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, a scowl matching his torn appearance, the billionaire, with a worn yet supporting a grin, turned and looked at the makeshift group of heroes. "Shawarma, anyone?"

Thor spoke up, the two-ton hammer hanging from his fingertips as he swung it back and forth by the piece of leather holding it. "What is this, shawarma?"

Bruce let out a solemn chuckle, his voice rather high against the low one of the Asguardian's. "It's an Arab dish with lamb, chicken, turkey, and beef are placed in pita bread; its okay."

Thor chocked his head to the side, an expression of confusion crossing his face. "What is this 'pita' you speak of?"

"It's a type of bread," Natasha spoke, crossing her arms. Her expression, however, remained blank.

Slightly surprised, Clint looked at her. She had been silent this entire time, collapsing into a chair once Loki was gone from fatigue. He could tell she was exhausted, but something was deeply bothering her. A hunch told him it had something to do with what happened while he was being held captive.

Tony cleared his throat – that is, as much as a throat-clearing sound can come through in a metal suit. "Again, who wants to eat?"

The Captain held up a hesitant hand, as if not sure where he stood on the team; even after leading them to victory.

The other Avengers added their murmurs of agreement and Tony started walked towards the slightly bent elevator, though (hopefully) still in working use. But then Jarvis spoke up. "Sir?"

"Yeah, Jarvis?"

Thor whipped his head around, trying to figure where the disembodied voice was coming from. He raised his hammer, eyes narrowing. "WHAT MANNER OF SORCERY IS THIS?" he bellowed, causing Clint to made a movement to cover his ears and Natasha flinch – only slightly, and only her partner caught it, but she did.

Clint frowned. What happened? he wondered, mind unconsciously wondering what had happened while he was gone.

The billionaire let out a laugh, smile twisting into a smirk. "Thor, it's my AI system."

"What is this AI you speak of? Some sort of ghost?"

Tony made no move to hide his amusement at the situation. "It's an artificial intelligence system, created by myself. The most advanced – ever."

Steve frowned. "Give the guy a break. He hasn't been around this stuff."

Tony's eyebrows rose. "Oh? And you have?"

Before an argument could proceed, Banner stepped forward between the super soldier and the billionaire. "Let's just go. I'm hungry, and you don't want to keep the…other guy…waiting."

After that, there was no arguing.

When they reached the shawarma place it was surprisingly intact, unlike most of the buildings surrounding it. There were a few customers in there, mostly people looking for a quick bite before they had to return home to start cleaning. Tony ushered them to a table, one that just fit six average sized people. But since two of those people were a demigod and a super soldier, it didn't make for a very comfortable space.

There was a single waiter there, and he came up to the table within moments of them sitting down. He took a rather amused gaze at all of them, but his eyes settled on his fiery spider for a few seconds more than Clint was comfortable with.

The man, whose tattoos and piercings were rather unnerving, took the orders before shooting a brilliant smile at Natasha. His voice was kind when he asked for her order - but his eyes were full of something else.

When his partner didn't reply, Clint turned to the man and he placed an order for both of them. The waiter nodded and shot one last glace at Natasha. Clint's eyes narrowed, a feeling of heat flashing over him.

Quietly, he placed his foot on his partner's chair. She looked up at him, her eyes questioning, but he only shrugged back at her and leaned back in his chair, watching out of the corner of his eye as the waiter's expression turned to a glare. Clint stared back before the man turned and began to give their orders to the cook at the counter.

The food arrived quickly (probably cause they scared the crap out of the cooking staff) and every starting eating, food disappearing within seconds in Thor's case. Clint started to, his food inches from his mouth, when he noticed his partner wasn't eating – in fact, she was just sitting there, arms crossed and true expression hidden from view.

"Natasha," he spoke gently, "The food's here."

To his eye, the other Avengers didn't take notice.

The first time Tony Stark saw Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton together, he had wondered what the matter of relationship was – sleeping together, dating, partners? All he saw was a bond between them, one that was formed between blood and fire.

The bond was unwavering, never broken. All he knew about the pair was what he had hacked through the S.H.I.E.L.D. database – and what had been said over the comns. What was Budapest? A mission gone wrong? He cleared his throat, eyes narrowing. "Hey Legolas - what happened in Budapest?"

The response was nearly hidden from view, but Tony's noticed that Natasha's breathing hitched as Clint glared at him.

"None of your business, Stark," the archer spoke in a tone that would have made a lesser man cry on the spot.

Tony's gaze swiveled to the spy. She wasn't mad, from what he could tell, but was just…blank. An instinct told him to inquire further; the same instinct that usually cause Pepper to yell at him. "Romanoff?"

She remained quiet.

Clint gave him another death glare. "Drop it," the man hissed.

Tony raised his hands as a sign of surrender, but inside he was curious. What had happened there that made the two assassins act like that?

Bruce Banner was a scientist. He had created the Hulk. He was a doctor, though not on paper. He had helped many people, but was hopeless at love. Dating? Awful. The Hulk usually ruined it. Marriage? Out of the question.

He met Natasha for the first time when she confronted him, paying a young girl to lead him to the edge of the city. He had studied her, trying to confirm he could trust her. His instincts told him to be wary.

Her body language suggested he could, but there was something deeper. Something else was going on – something that was tearing the redhead apart.

Every since second he's been around her, he's been studying her. It wasn't

He faintly noticed Tony talking about something, but whatever he said, Natasha's breath paused – only for a fleeting second, but he caught it.

Then it hit him. Everything he's been thinking about? It's science. He's a doctor, not one to study emotions or become a therapist – though he's tried.

She was in love.

Multiple calculations ran through his mind. She was at loss when he met her, because someone was missing in her life. She only mentioned that one of their own had been taken, despite there being at least three.

She was in love with Clint Barton.

He let out a small chuckle, causing the Captain to look strangely at him. What she doesn't know is that Clint Barton is in love with her too.

Before Thor stepped foot on Midgard, he had not known of love. He had courted many ladies, considering he was the prince of Asgard. But he found true love in Jane Foster – something that displeased his father.

He studied two of his companions. The first time he saw them together, he was struck by their invisible bond. They had been through so much together, Thor could tell. A bond like that was unbreakable.

Then Loki came along.

Agent Barton had been turned into a mindless minion. From the S.H.I.E.L.D video files he had watched, he had seen how they fought, how he tried to kill his partner. He had heard the promise his brother had made to the red haired lady.

Looking at her now, emotionless, Thor realized something. Loki had shattered every inch of her trust in her partner, something that she had held high above everything else; at least, that's what he had guessed.

Their eyes met, and Thor remembered the words of his brother.

"I won't barter Barton! Not until I make him kill you. Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear. And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screaming I'll split his skull! That is my bargain, you mewling quim!" Loki smirked.

"You're a monster." Natasha's voice held back hidden emotion.

Thor shook it out of his head, trying to get the memory out of his mind before taking another bite of his food.

Captain Steve Rodgers was a soldier. Nothing more, nothing less. At least, until he met Peggy.

He remembers her being beautiful and kind. When he crashed into the ocean, her face never left him. He went under and she never forgot about him. He had read S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files. She had died, never married. Still waiting.

It had pained him when he came up. Everything he knew was gone. His world: gone. This was the modern age. There was no need for old fashioned stars and stripes.

When Fury had appeared, holding out the folder to him, he knew the teseract was dangerous. He told Fury that they should have left it in the ocean. He should have kept it out of the wrong hands, before someone killed to get it.

He was too late.

As he looked at his…team, he pondered them. Thor was a mythical god. Tony was a billionaire super hero. Bruce was a lab mistake. And himself? Tony was right. Everything special about him came out of a bottle.

Then there were the assassins, the deadly duo. They were inseparable. When he was out of the super hero life for a little after getting back on his feet, he had heard stories on the news about them. They were supposedly unstoppable.

Then Barton was taken. Turned into a mindless slave. He watched as Agent Romanoff had been broken. When he met her, there was something wrong. When Clint joined her again, some part of her had been healed. Even he could tell, and he hadn't had much experience with people.

Now that the battle was over, Natasha had slipped again. He had a feeling Loki had done something to her; he had a feeling it had to do with Clint. He stared at her and saw her shift uncomfortably.

He let out the smallest of smiles. He had just noticed that Agent Barton's leg was on her chair, and his hand on her shoulder.

Natasha was broken.

Loki had taken all she had worked for. He made Barton attack her, almost killing her. He had almost done what he was supposed to do when they first met.

It had shaken her. She was supposed to be strong, unbreakable. That was what she had trained for in the Red Room. What months and years of torture had taught her.

It was all unraveled with a matter of days.

Fury had placed her in Russia for a mission. She had gladly accepted, but was slightly upset her partner wasn't coming with her. When she received a call twenty-four hours later that he had been compromised, she was not pleased.

Something had ached inside her. She told herself it was nothing more than a partner missing a partner, and friend missing a friend. Her heart told her more.

She was in love with Clint Barton.

She tried to fight it. But every time, she failed. When she was busy on missions, he never left her mind. The call changed everything.

It was poor luck that she had to hit him on the head to get him out of Loki's control. When he woke up, he was depressed that he had killed so many people; S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had died because of him, along with innocent people.

Natasha had tried to comfort him, but she couldn't get through.

He would never love her back.

Those words ran through her mind, becoming a trail of words she could never forget.

After a sudden bout of silence, Clint's fingers had found a path tapping on the table. But that familiar feelings of captivity appeared, and he stood up quickly, bumping his knees against the table. "I'd better head back to S.H.I.E.L.D.," he spoke, voice low.

He made it a few feet away from the table when Tony called him back. "C'mon, Merida; stay for a moment."

Clint paused in his steps. "What?" he snapped.

Tony motioned for the archer to sit back down and against his better judgment; he took his seat again beside his partner. The billionaire cleared his throat. "Well, I have a proposal for everyone. As we all know, Fury has made us the Avengers – I think, although that guy is a giant asshole, that we should stay together."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "You really want to keep me in New York?"

Tony nodded, gesturing as he continued. "I think you should all come live with me at Stark tower; many floors, plenty of quiet."

He was met with silence. They were all looking at each other, wondering what the other thought – that is, save Natasha and Clint, who were pointedly avoiding each other's gazes.

Steve spoke up, voice commanding the table as easily as it had on the battlefield. "Though Tony's intentions may be hidden for something else–"

"Hey!"

"–I believe that we should listen to him. If there is trouble again, we should be around to help."

Clint turned his glance to Thor, and he was nodding too. "I will stay with the metal man and his invisible friend when I am at Midgard."

That brought a smirk to the archer's face. Bruce's answer came next. "I don't know–"

"Bruce," Tony interrupted. "C'mon, it'll be a stress environment."

Bruce snorted. "Last time you said that, you poked me with a metal stick."

"True – but I'm a better man now!"

Bruce's eyebrows went up. "You? A better man?" But then he paused, before grumbling, "Anything goes wrong, I'm gone."

Tony nodded and turned to Clint, his eyes flickering between the archer and his partner. "What about you, Legolas?"

Clint looked at Natasha and they locked eyes. "Ваш звонок. Я буду следовать," she spoke softly in her homeland language.

The other Avengers looked confused for a moment, but Clint nodded slowly, repeating something back to her in the same language before turning to Tony. "We're in."

Tony tilted his head slightly, making him look like he had a bigger head than usual. "'Kay then – everyone done with their shawarma?"

Steve chuckled, his expression turning from tense to relaxed in an instant. "You really like saying shawarma, don't you?"

Tony nodded. "Yep. Shawarma, shawarma, shaw-arma; okay, now it's old."

They all burst into bouts of laughter, even Natasha.

Later that night, everyone was exhausted. Tony had given them all rooms on one floor until the tower was finished; he had said they would all get their own floors then. The spies had taken the chance to stop by the helicarrier and grab a few of their things. Everyone had glared at him, eyes accusing where their mouths were silent.

Natasha had acted like a robot all afternoon, only speaking if necessary. Director Fury had pulled him aside just before they had to leave.

"Barton. What's wrong with Romanoff."

Clint had shrugged. "Honestly sir…I don't know. She's been acting like this ever since the battle ended."

Fury looked around. "Just make sure she's okay."

"I promise you, I will."

The director slipped something from his pocket. "This is against S.H.I.E.L.D. policy, but I believe you should see this."

In his palm he held a simple disk surrounded by a clear plastic cover. Clint took it, slightly cautious. "What is it?"

"Watch it later. You'll find out."

Clint sat on his bed, staring at the disk. It was almost midnight and everyone had gone to bed. It was completely silent.

The archer flipped open the laptop Tony had left on the desk, slipping the disk in. It was blank for a second, then everything came into focus. Clint swore as Loki came into view, pacing inside a glass cage. Suddenly the man froze, and a smile appeared on his evil face. "There's not many people that can sneak up on me."

Clint paused, wondering who he was talking to. Then, he heard an all too familiar voice as the person stepped into view. "But you figured I'd come."

Clint watched as Natasha talked to the villain, begging Loki to spare him. She claimed it was for a debt, but he knew that even Loki could tell that debt was long overdue.

He wanted to kill Loki as the man threatened to turn Clint against his partner. It broke his heart as she turned away. After a few moments she passed it off like she was faking for information, but he knew better – they'd known each other for years. He knew her better than anyone else.

The disk went blank, leaving Clint in darkness.

He was angry at her for bargaining for him. He wasn't a prize.

On the other hand, he was torn. He turned and stalked towards his torn, tearing it open before knocking on Natasha's room right across the hall. When she didn't answer, he grasped the doorknob.

To his surprise, it was not locked. He slipped in, letting moonlight spill over the sleeping red head. Her curls were spread across the pillow; she was at a moment of deep sleep, something that she hadn't had in ages.

As he approached the bed, he could see her shivering slightly. Her breathing was shallow, and her fists were tightened on the sheets around her. Clint placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "Tasha – wake up."

Her entire body went stiff under his hand, but then she recognized his voice and propped her elbow against her pillow, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with her other hand. "Clint? What are you doing here?" She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "It's almost midnight."

He sat on the right side of her bed as she adjusted herself so she was sitting against the headboard. "Natasha," he spoke slowly. "I saw the file."

Her face filled with confusion. "What file?"

"Why did you bargain for me?"

Her face went blank. "Oh. That file."

There was silence for a moment, before Clint spoke up again. "What did I do to you?"

Her expression remained blank and she held her silence.

Clint fought the urge to punch something. "Damn it, just tell me!"

She took a deep breath. "You'll only blame yourself," she pleaded softly. "I'm not going to allow that to happen."

"Please." His voice was quiet. "I want to know what happened."

Nat nodded slowly. She lifted up her tank top up to an inch above her bellybutton, and a black and purple bruise lay there.

Clint froze. "Anything else?"

She turned and he saw a gash on her left shoulder. Then she lifted her chin up and he saw another small gash, just below her neck.

"Shit," he swore. "Natasha–"

She cut him off. "You shouldn't blame yourself. This was Loki."

Clint felt like it was hard to breathe. "Why didn't I fight back?" he mumbled to himself, jerking away from her touch when she reached out. "Why didn't I?"

Natasha sat there, sadness in her eyes. "Clint. Listen to me. Loki did this. He killed people, not you."

He wasn't listening. "I'm so sor-"

Natasha slapped him in the face. Hard.

He looked at her and she was furious. "Clint Barton, stop the pity party and listen up; This was Loki. You didn't do anything wrong."

Clint's teeth clenched.. "Nat, I-"

She slapped her hand over his mouth. "You did nothing wrong. I got hurt, I'm fine. I get hurt whenever we got on missions. I'm always fine."

He moved her hand off of him. "But what if one day you aren't? What if I had killed you?"

"I'm alive," she said, the words echoing in his ears. "You're alive."

And they were.

Hi.