Dark side - song by Kelly Clarkson

Chapter 1 - Let me in

"There's a place that I know,
It's not pretty there and few have ever gone"

Clint walked into a rundown gym in a tiny corner of the city and came face to face with a scene too often the reality of many SHIELD agents. There in the back of the room was Natasha repeatedly punching a practice dummy within an inch of its life. It was nearly 2 am and she was the only person here.

"Are you beating your ghosts into the ground Natasha?" he asked quietly from behind her. Natasha instantly froze and dropped her fists to her side.

"How did you find me?" she asked turning around to face him. His eyes instantly zoned in on her bleeding knuckles - so this is how she deals with all the stress in her life.

"There are healthier ways to deal with stress you know," Clint said avoiding her question. She narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not here because of stress," she said icily. He gave her a blank look.

"How many reasons can there be for an agent who has already perfected the art of hand to hand combat to be beating the shit out of a dummy at two am?" he asked warily. She glanced away from him and remained silent - however her silence was more than enough.

"I can't sleep at night either you know," he said as he started rummaging through a locker beside him.

"I doubt it's because of the same reasons..." Natasha said slowly. Clint shrugged.

"You never know - we might be more alike than you think Natasha," he said vaguely. She paused as she watched him look for something.

"What are you doing?" she asked cautiously. He finally found what he was searching for and pull out a first aid kit and some bandages.

"I'm not here to be your shrink Natasha - but those cuts look painful," Clint said walking over to her and placing the medical supplies on a table beside her.

"I can dress my own wounds Barton," Natasha said in confusion. She stared at his actions like it was a completely foreign gesture to her. He paused as that thought crossed his head - he should stop assuming anything about Natasha Romanoff was straightforward.

"Do you trust me?" he asked suddenly. She winced. He noticed her internal battle and rephrased his question.

"Do you trust me enough to fix you?" he clarified gesturing towards her hands. She gave him a wary look at his choice of words but finally sighed and sat on the table in front of him.

"Anyone can do basic first aid," she mumbled as he cleaned her bruises and cuts with some alcohol swabs.

"Yeah? And when was the last time someone did that for you?" he asked as he started wrapping the small bandages around her knuckles.

"People don't normally ask things like that Barton," Natasha said as she watched him work skillfully - as if he's had to do this for himself a million times.

"Maybe you just haven't met the right people," he said glancing up at her.

A prolonged silence filled the space between them for a few moments as Natasha tried to find the right words she was looking for.

"You can't fix me Barton," she finally said quietly. He gently held her fully bandaged hands in his larger ones.

"Why not?" he asked staring at her straight in the eye. She stared back with equal intensity.

"It's not possible," she said with a faraway look. The depth of his eyes never faltered for a second.

"How do you know when no one has ever tried?" he asked seriously.

A/N: A little story about Natasha and Clint's relationship before the Avengers. Please let me know what you think!