That Kind of Loyalty Can't Be Bought

Author: after looking up Natasha/Steve fics & finding a few Tasha/Clint/Steve fics in there I decided to
write this. Established BlackHawk The trio are very interesting to consider together. I own nothing.

They were exhausted, all of them.

The Soldier. The God. The billionaire. The Scientist. The Spy. The Hawk.

Steve. Thor. Tony. Bruce. Natasha. Clint.

They met Fury on the top of Stark Tower where there was a Helipad (seldom used by Tony but often by others) with Loki under very close guard. Steve wanted him gone. Thor wanted things to return to how they used to be. Tony wanted him far, far away from his Tower. Bruce didn't care what happened to him. Natasha wanted to rip his poisonous tongue from his mouth. Clint... Clint wanted to put an arrow through his eye socket, wanted to flay the flesh from his bones only to stop and watch it grow back before repeating the process, wanted to cut him into tiny pieces while he was still alive to hear him scream and a thousand other things. He wanted to rape Loki as Loki had raped him. He wanted to jerk Loki's head back by the hair, force him to show his throat and make him submit as Loki had done to him. He wanted to unmake the mischief God in every way. Only Fury's dangerous glare that promised severe reprimands and Tasha's familiar weight leaning against him had stopped him. That had been half an hour ago.

As the elevator opened to admit them back into the sitting room (with its new Loki shaped dent in the floor) Tasha felt her foot turn under her and she almost hit the floor as her knee gave out as well. A strong hand on her upper arm and a strong set of arms (one around her waist and the other under her other arm) only let her fall into a crouch. Her mind went about trying to shut off; she was too exhausted to think.

"Lady Romanoff?" Thor's booming voice asked. There was concern in his tone but... it was far too loud. Especially when it echoed.

"Turn the volume down big guy. Some of us have headaches." That was Clint of course. She'd recognize his voice on her deathbed. Even exhausted, battered and in the worst shape of them all, he still managed to a bit of a smart ass.

"Ma'am?" asked a still unfamiliar voice from above her. She lifted her head a bit and saw the blue suit of the man who had spoken. Captain America, of course.

"I'm fine. My knee gave out is all." she said, putting her weight on her uninjured leg and forcing herself up. One hand went to Clint's shoulder, nail's biting into his unprotected and battered flesh. "Sorry." she muttered when he hissed in pain. She forced her fingers to relax a bit, releasing him just a bit.

"You should sit down. Take a rest and get off your knee before you hurt yourself further." Steve said as he continued to hold onto her upper arm to support her. Unlike most men, his eyes remained on her face and never once strayed to her cleavage, long legs or skin-tight cat suit. Both she and Clint are impressed by this fact but neither says a word about it... now. They'll discuss it later. If at all.

"Probably should." she agreed softly as a wave of dizziness threatened to bring her to her knees. Clint recognized her unsteadiness and slid an arm around her waist gently. Clint and Steve shared a long look before the soldier released Natasha into the archer's arms. He didn't doubt that the other man could look after her. He is just extremely concerned for her safety, being the only woman on the team and it's in his nature to worry about any woman.

"Tell me your name." Clint said in Russian, looking at Natasha.

"Natasha Romanoff." she answered, glaring at him. Her answer was in English. She'd never speak her birth name among strangers and Clint knew this.

"Who am I?" Clint asked in English, easing her onto the couch.

"An idiot." she growled in Hungarian, as she leaned back and let him pull off her boots. She flinched when he pulled the right one off.

"Wrong answer." he reminded her, staying knelt in front of her. He pulled his bow from his back and balanced it on his knee. "Might want to get your side looked at Cap. We're gonna be a few Doc." the archer said, moving back to English.

"So should you. That's a lot of glass." Steve said, looking at the wound on his side. It had hurt some originally, though it had surprised him more than anything. Chitauri blasters packed a punch.

"I've had worse. We're used to waiting on medical." Clint assured him. Steve pulled off his uniform shirt and glanced at the scars on Clint's arms. Some were small, probably had been shallow. Others were large, rougher looking. He almost wanted to ask what had caused them but he didn't dare. It wasn't his right to know if the archer didn't want to give out that information.

"Clinton Francis Barton. My partner and lover." Tasha whispered in french, leaning forward to stroke his cheek.

"That's my girl." he whispered in the same beautiful language. As he spoke, his hands had been busy working on his bow and now Steve could see why. He had removed the scope (which Steve doubted got much use). "Don't blink." Clint told her, jumping into Germany as he shined the scope's laser into her eyes to check her pupil's dilation.

"Idiot." she muttered.

"Remember what the Doctor said: you blink, you die." Clint chuckled, switching back to English with a british accent.

"I would say that I don't think the Stone Angel's exist but with all we've seen recently..." Doctor Banner smirked, as he pushed his glasses up his nose to give Steve's wound a better look at it.

"Hulk smash stone angels?" Clint laughed softly as he moved to sit by Tasha. He cringed inwardly as he did and began to put his scope back on his bow.

"More than likely yes." Banner smirked.

"Now that I'm out of dodge of a concussion I'm going to sleep." Tasha said, leaning against Clint's side.

"You're already healing Cap. Go take a few to clean up." Doctor Banner said before carefully approaching the agents. He looked both Clint and Tasha over, trying to decide who needed medical attention more. Clint looked worse by far with all that glass in his arms and back.

"Her first. Temple, busted lip, right knee, same foot." Clint told him. He knew what Bruce had been doing when he looked them over. Yes he was battered, bloody, exhausted, starving, would have nightmares for a long time but Tasha was his responsibility. And she was always the one who would be looked after first. That was one of the many unspoken and undebatable rules in their "relationship."

It surprised Steve how Clint listed off Natasha's injuries despite the pain the soldier knew the archer was in. But his surprise didn't last long. He had never met a man tougher or more loyal. He placed his needs on the back burner for Natasha, asking after her when they were doing role call. He had followed her into this war despite whatever Loki had done to him.

"Do I need to be concerned with her wanting to maim, kill or disembowel me later?" Bruce asked. Steve can't tell if he's joking, being serious or somewhere in between.

"No you're doing it with my permission and under my supervision. She won't hurt you." Clint chuckled. The archer's blue grey eyes turned towards him and he said, "Aren't you supposed to be getting cleaned up Cap?"

"Take care of them Mr. Banner." Steve said, nodding first to Clint then to Banner. Tony pointed him in the direction of nearest shower and as he walked, he realized that the loyalty and trust the agents had with each other was exactly like the loyalty and trust between him and his men back during the war. It couldn't be bought. It couldn't be sold. It could only be earned through learning how to watch each other's back in life or death situations.