This fanfiction started as a role play on Omegle. I do not know the other's person name to credit him/her on the bit we worked together, but I'll be sure to give him/her the deserve merit once I know.

It had been about a year since Natasha had left for her mission. It had been without any good-byes, so when she was pronounced Missing in Action after being captured, most people thought she was dead. Luckily, she found her way out and got on the first flight back to New York. The redhead stepped up the Tower steps and talked to JARVIS for a moment, who let her in but didn't tell the team about it. She bit down gently on her lip and traveled towards the dining room, eyes scanning over the familiar faces before stepping out of the shadows. Cuts, bruises and scars covered her body, including the large gash across her cheek. Natasha cleared her throat and stood at the end of the table.

"Room for one more?" She asked quietly as the room went silent.

Everyone was astonished to see her, alive, before their eyes, and they all got up to congratulate her somehow. But not Clint. He seemed to be pinned down on his chair, static. She gave them all smiles, answering their questions, though her eyes continued to flicker back and forth to Clint. A rush of guilt came over her, knowing how hard it must have been, especially for him. His gaze met hers and the only thing he did was get up and walk out. There was a moment of awkwardness for the others. "I think the birdie is taking it too hard." Tony pronounced.

Natasha shot Tony a look and pushed past him, walking to Clint, trying to catch up to him. "Clint..." She said softly, a few feet behind him. "Clint, wait... Please." Her voice was pleading.

He stopped eventually but didn't turn around. It was paining him all that situation, especially the fact that he could see and imagine how physically hurt she may be. "Glad you made it out alive, Widow." Coldly he spoke.

She sighed softly. He only called her that when he was upset. "I'm sorry... I really am. I didn't mean to be gone for this long, but some... Really, really bad things happened." She forced back her tears as she spoke to him, voice honest.

"I understand it may have not been your fault for not communicating any time sooner," Clint faced her; his facial features were rough and unreadable. "but I've mourned your death... and that was it." He then continued to walk without a defined path; he just wanted to walk away.

She clenched her jaw and grabbed his arm, pulling him back to her, looking up at him. "And it was obviously fake, wasn't it? I'm here. I'm alive." Her eyes filled with fire. "And now you're just going to forget about me? That's not fair, Clint. I left... I left to protect you guys."

"Protect us?" He pulled his arm back with some strength that made her walk back a few steps. "Last time I checked we could all protect our own asses!" He gave no more than two steps ahead and turned back again. "Fake or not I felt it. It hurt... You don't exactly expect me to pretend it is all fine. I'm sorry if I can't act like you, so quick on your feet despite the situation."

"No, Clint, I don't expect you to think it is all okay, but the people who were tracking me are more powerful than S.H.I.E.L.D. Like I said, that's why I left. I've dealt with them before, so I know their weak spots..." She clenched her jaw again. "It's because I was trained to do that. You don't know what it is like to be completely wired in a certain situation and have you mind wiped from any personal memories each and every week, just so you can perform well on missions. Sorry for having to do that," she shot back, the last sentence sarcastic. Natasha turned and started walking down the opposite way.

"Shit!" He hissed. Sometimes he didn't know how to handle her. "Natasha..." He called her once. "Tasha...? I'm sorry. I'm hurt, but so are you... Let's not make it like this, not right now." He grabbed her by both arms and made her look at him in the eye; Natasha glared up at him. "I was a jackass just a while ago; I'm just being driven away."

Her gaze began to soften when she let out a deep breath, nodding. "Yeah, I know... I'm sorry too."

Clint couldn't help but let out a deep sigh as a frail smile twitched his lips. "I'm so glad you are alive, Tasha." He spoke, putting a strand of hair behind her ear. "You don't know how much I've wished that every day for the past year."

She nodded, tears welling a bit in her eyes, not really being able to help herself. "I know... I missed you so much," Her voice was soft, almost a whisper as she spoke. It had been the longest time they had ever been apart, and she had been miserable.

Gently he pecked her mouth, being careful about the cut on her lip. He rested his forehead against hers and let their fingers intertwine. "How many more bruises do you have? And please tell me the ones who did this to you are all dead or else I'll find them and they'll wish to never having been born at all."

She closed her eyes after resting his forehead against hers, holding tightly onto his hand. She smiled a bit and nodded slowly. "A lot more... And cuts and scars... And yes, they are all dead. I somehow managed to kill all of them, even in the state I was in." She shuddered slightly at the memory.

"I knew you were strong. You have always been." He pulled her closer against his chest, whispering in her ear. "I'll wait until all of those heal. I can't bring myself to look at you like that."

She nodded again, pressed against him, eyes still closed. "I can't look at myself like this either..." She whispered back, taking in a deep breath. She felt safe, now that she was in his arms again.

"Should we go inside or...?" Clint didn't know what to say. He just wanted time and space to stay still at that moment for as long as it was possible. She was back in his arms, not at the best of the shapes, but alive; she could say again that his heart and embrace are her home and he could hold her tight.

Natasha nodded and took in a deep breath, opening her eyes and looking up into his. "Yeah." She smiled a little. "It's Friday... Are we still on for movie night?" She teased a bit, remembering their weekly doing. Usually, it would be some terrible "B" class movie, but that was part of what made it fun.

Clint admitted. "I didn't show up very often lately... But I guess it's still on. Apparently Tony is still interested in teaching the Asgardian about our human life. They were discussing that we were going to watch Stark Trek or something."

She let off a small laugh and an eye roll, shaking her head slightly. "Of course he wants to do that... And Stark Trek sounds fine." She shrugged a bit, running her tongue over her bottom lip. Natasha gave Clint's hand a slight squeeze, a bright look in her blue eyes.

"Let's go inside then? I'm pretty sure that they are all listening by the door."

She grinned and nodded. "Wouldn't surprise me, and yeah. Let's go."

"Ow!" Steve groaned covering his forehead, being smashed by the door as Clint opened it. In a flash the others returned to the couch, like the two hadn't notice that they were listening by the door.

Natasha rolled her eyes, smacking Tony and Steve in the back of the head, not necessarily wanting to piss the other two off. "Nice try you guys..." She muttered, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, where she would usually sit. She pulled a blanket around her and sighed.

"And she's like the old times." Tony grumbled, scratching the back of her head as he walked to the couch. "A bit stronger should I say."

"... Things... happen to you, when you go on a mission like that," She shot back, wincing slightly when she adjusted her position.

"I'm sure he didn't mean to offend you, Natasha." Bruce mended things right. "He's just always like this."

"I remember..." She muttered, leaning slowly back against the couch.

"That's a positive thing." Clint said, offering a smile. "Remembering..."

Natasha nodded, glancing up at him. "It took me awhile to remember a lot of things, but I think it's all back to me now."

"That's unrealistic!" Thor shouted, pointing at the TV screen. "It's nothing like that!" He then said to the others.

Natasha flinched a little at Thor's sudden shouting. "Thor, it's a movie... It's not supposed to be realistic." She giggled and rolled her eyes.

Clint accommodated on the floor next to Natasha as Thor continued to complain. "Then I do not understand this purpose of watching movies. As far as I've seen, the good ones always manage to live."

"Not everyone has a happy ending," She said softly, looking up to the Asgardian. "that's what people should expect to happen. That they might not get that perfect life that they had always dreamed of."

"Way to go with the mood." Steve grumbled, burying his face on his hand.

Natasha shot Steve a glare, holding back her snarky reply to it, eyes turning back towards the screen. "Well, I didn't get mine either..." She said after a moment, breaking the silence. The one thing she had always wanted, she couldn't even have-children.

Clint leaned in her ear and whispered without the others noticing. "You can always adopt. I've told you that."

"Not the point," She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, eyes fixed onto the screen.

"Right..." He spoke in low voice. "Let's just watch the movie."

She muttered something in Russian and then went silent. The archer didn't pay any attention to the movie, dedicating all his concern. She glanced up at him, catching his grey eyes with her blue ones for a brief moment. He looked away, pretending like he hadn't been staring at her the whole time. Still he almost inaudibly spoke. "Sorry..."

She smirked softly, nudging him gently. "Don't worry about it. I don't care." She could feel Tony's eyes on them.

"Come a little closer, then?" He asked, throwing her a begging and somehow cutesy look.

She smirked again and moved closer, their thighs touching, her eyes sparkling. It didn't take long for her head to fall over Clint's shoulder, but he realized something wasn't alright. She wasn't reacting and her body was too heavy for her to be just sleeping. He put his hand in front of her nose, feeling her very weak breathing. When he placed his hand on her chin and raised her head, it fell back. Clint instantly wrapped his arm around her back and laid her down on the floor. Everyone was now attentive to her situation.

"Natasha?" He asked as he slightly slapped her face, trying to bring her back. His eyes rose to Bruce as he begged. "Doctor?"

He slightly frowned. "Not my area of expertise-"

"Doctor!" Clint firmly pleaded. Bruce came to down to his knees, checking on Natasha as Tony was calling an ambulance. "Call the Agency too; tell them Natasha's being taken to the hospital."

"Her pulse is very low." Bruce affirmed pressing his fingers on the side of her neck, feeling her feeble beating heart on the tip of his fingers. "Raise her legs," He told Clint as he unbuckled her belt, that was restraining blood circulation. As he put his hand on her forehead he stated. "she's feverish." He turned to Tony. "Tell them to come fast; I don't know how to handle this."

Tony put Bruce on the phone and he was reporting Natasha's condition. Luckily this wasn't anything new for Clint. He started checking on her cuts and bruises. "It's an infection." He said. "The cuts are very badly healed."

Steve peered down the window, stating. "The EMT's arrived."

Clint took the chance. He grabbed her in arms and walked all the way down to the medical team, and then boarded on the ambulance with them.

I'll leaving hanging on this, yes, I'm known for being very evil when it comes to things like this.

Want a second chapter? Be sure to ask me for it by leaving a review.