Lost in translation

Clint gasped as he shot up and frantically glanced around the new room he suddenly found himself in. White wall. White bed. White coats. White everything.

Damn it SHIELD medical caught him again.

He quickly threw the sheets off of him and glanced down at his torn but still intact Hawkeye uniform. So they just got here. Good. He had to find out what happened after their mission went to hell.

"Whoa agent Barton! We go through this every single week! Stay put until I deem you medically sound…and relatively sane," his SHIELD assigned Doctor said giving him a stern look.

If Clint had an arrow and his arm was working properly the doc would have a hard time seeing right now.

"Where is Natasha?" he asked dangerously. The doctor sighed – it was always the same reaction whenever Barton came into his medical bay.

"Barton I will tell you where Romanoff is after your check up," the Doc said firmly without budging and inch. Clint stalked right up to the Doc's blank face and glared at him.

"I asked you a question – you better answer it," he growled threateningly. The doctor stared back and promptly jabbed the agent in the stomach with the back of his pencil.

Clint fell over with a painful groan. Why did that hurt so much?

"Don't try to intimidate me Barton – it never works and it never will," the doc said shaking his head at the pitiful agent trying to keep it together long enough to find out what he wanted to know. This is exactly why they always kept SHIELD partners together after an accident. They only problem this time was that Natasha needed special care at the moment.

"Now you sit tight and we can get this over with as fast as possible – then we'll see about Agent Romanoff," he said as he glanced down at his notes. He was about to start with Barton's checkup when he paused in writing Barton's name on the sheet.

Woosh. A cool breeze came from the door that was suddenly wide open – he had closed it on his way in.

He sighed and glanced up at the empty medical bed in front of him.

Barton was gone.

Time to go to Romanoff's room. As always. He wondered if Barton would realize where she was and find her room before he got there.

Meanwhile Clint was frantically running down the halls of SHIELD medical glancing into every patient room he passed as he searched for the one holding the specific redhead he was looking for. He weaved through the crowds of injured agents and medical personnel as he made his way down the physical trauma section of the SHIELD internal hospital. After one thorough search – she wasn't here.

Then…where was she?

He froze as he picked up a conversation happening around the corner from where he stood frozen to the ground.

"How is Romanoff doing?" he heard the voice of agent Jones – the handler they got after Coulson was gone.

"We don't know the specifics yet. They're going to monitor her situation for now. She's awake at the moment…but they aren't sure how to fix the damage yet," Fury said guardedly. Clint froze…damage? What damage?

"What is she saying?" Jones asked slowly. Fury paused.

"That's the thing Jones – she's not saying anything. It's a very delicate case at the moment…" Fury said carefully.

Delicate case meant…

Clint spun around and stared up at the special cases sign that led to the smallest section of the medical bay. Natasha would be there. He flew down the hall and didn't even stop to check if anyone noticed his worrying actions.

Agent Jones and Fury shared a wary look.

"What is he going to do when he finds her?" Jones asked quietly. Fury shook his head slowly and glanced down at the medical reports he held in his hands. They did not look promising.

"He is going to have to come to terms with their new reality," Fury said reluctantly.

Clint rounded the corner as he ran pass medical room after medical room. He skidded to a halt when he saw a wave of red hair in one of the rooms he had just passed. He quickly backtracked the way he came and froze in front of the room he was looking for.

"Natasha…" he whispered out of breath as he stared at her through the window into her private room. She glanced up at him and froze. She opened her mouth to say something but something stopped her. She closed her mouth and looked away. Clint furrowed his brow as he watched her wrap her arms around her knees and stare out the window beside her.

She looked…healthy.

What was wrong then? He didn't think he quite wanted to know the answer yet.

He slowly walked into her room and shut the door silently behind him.

"Natasha...?" Clint asked cautiously. Her eyes fell to her knees as she looked away from his searching gaze. She wasn't responding to him. Why wasn't she responding?

"Do you know who I am?" he asked slowly. She gave him an 'are you joking?' look. Okay so she didn't have amnesia or something.

"Why aren't you talking then…Can you hear me...?" he asked carefully. She snorted. He blinked as she reached over the side of her bed and picked up a well-worn notepad. He watched in confusion as she scribbled something onto the paper.

'I'm mute, not deaf Clint. Stop overreacting,' she wrote across the notepad and passed it to him. He read the note and froze.

"What?" he asked in utter confusion. When did this happen? How did this happen?

Why had no one told him about this?

"Are you okay?" he asked anxiously. She shrugged and curled a stray strand of red hair around her ear. His eyes softened. He can't imagine what she was going through at the moment. From the way she was completely in control he didn't think she was thinking too hard about her situation either.

"Can they fix it...?" he asked quietly. A shadow seemed to pass over her face before it quickly disappeared.

She gave him a look and gestured for him to give her the notepad back. He passed it to her and watched as she wrote out another phrase. She held it out for him to see as she looked away and stared out the window. It was raining outside. Why did the weather always have an uncanny way of reflecting how you were feeling that day? He glanced at the page and his heart nearly shattered right then and there.

'Do you think I'm broken?' was scribbled across the page in neatly curved letters. He gave her a soft look and slowly shook his head.

"Never Tasha. Never broken," he whispered slowly taking the notepad out of her hand and pulling her into a tight embrace. She tensed in his arms but didn't pull away. She slowly wrapped her arms around him and took a shaky breath. He could feel her heart beating at a hundred miles an hour as he held her tightly against his body.

"You're going to be okay Tasha. We're going to be okay," he said firmly as he pulled back and cupped her warm cheeks in his hands. She stared back at him with haunted eyes and gently shoved a folded sheet of paper into his hands. He took the paper from her and unfolded it to reveal a page of writing – her writing.

Hi,

This isn't a letter – I'm not going to start with Dear Clint or something equally nauseating like that. It's the only way I can talk to anyone right now. If I didn't know how to write I don't know what I would do…You realized by now haven't you? That I'm not talking? It's because I can't Clint…I don't know what happened after the explosion went off during our mission – but after an hour of pestering me with a million questions I couldn't answer the only thing the stupid SHIELD medics were able to tell me was that there was something wrong with my vocal cords. Are they stupid or something? I'm not a doctor and even I knew that much! Worthless agents. Honestly. Where does Fury find these idiots?

Clint snorted. Even on paper her personality bleeds through her words.

Anyway…I don't know what's going to happen now Clint. I can't talk. I can't verbally communicate at all. It's worse than being in a coma. Because I can see all of you, I can feel of all you, I can hear all of you. But no one can hear me anymore. It's…it's killing me. But don't tell Stark any of this. God that man is going to throw every single damn insult in the book at me once he finds out I can't chew him out like I normally do. I'll have to up my gun threatening now.

She always did use Stark as an excuse to avoid dealing with her emotions he thought silently.

Are you okay? How is the rest of the team anyway? I haven't been able to see anyone yet. I knew you would be the first one I would get in contact with – did you ditch your doctors again? They will grill you for it you know. If nothing else SHIELD is all about protocol – if you don't follow protocol they're always nagging or moaning about how coarse and unprofessional you're acting. Or maybe that's just me.

He shook his head. Oh Natasha – you're rambling. Natasha silently watched as he read through her letter and waited for him to finish so that he would finally understand what she can't tell him through spoken words.

The doctors are going crazy trying to figure out what's wrong with me. Nothing is wrong we me. I'm perfectly fine – except for the fact that my voice is gone. You'd think the smartest and brightest doctors and scientists in the world could put all their useless brain cells together and figure this out in a heartbeat right? Think again. If you look out the window you can see them congregating in the room across the hall and arguing about what can possibly be causing my voice loss.

Clint looked up and just like she said –there was a mob of white coats arguing in the room across from them. They were shoving papers in each other's faces as they tried to solve a problem they've never came across before.

Other than this little problem I'm fine. I know you'll ask a million times until your satisfied that my answer won't suddenly change and that somehow I'll fall to my knees saying I'm dying or something. You were always overdramatic you know? So I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. Is that enough fines? I'm sorry I can't tell you this in person. But I'll probably be sitting beside you as you read this annoying letter that I'm getting tired of writing. You can probably already guess half the stuff I wrote – but I did it anyway. No big deal.

Clint smiled warily. She was such a liar. No one would write so carefully and neatly if they weren't so sure they wanted their thoughts to be understood properly.

I'm running out of things to say so I'm going to end this long run on thought soon. I just thought these were some of the things you might want to know when you eventually came storming in here – like you always do. If you don't be careful Clint agents are going to start thinking you're compromised. And if it comes to the point when they start thinking that I am compromised? Someone is going to die. Possibly everyone involved.

I don't know what going to happen now. You probably don't know either. But just…just don't freak out okay?

Natasha Romanoff

Clint looked up as he finished the letter and his eyes instantly connected with her wary ones.

"Thank you for explaining this to me," he said giving her a weak smile. She shrugged. He was her partner – he needed to know. He glanced at the little pile of papers peeking out from behind her. She instantly went bright red as he picked up one of the rolled up balls and started to open it. She quickly snatched the paper out of his hand and threw it out the window.

"O…kay? What was on that sheet of paper?" he asked curiously as he watched the blush creep up her neck. She frantically shook her head and crossed her arms before looking away from his curious gaze. He raised an eyebrow.

"So am allowed to assume it was a secret love letter or something?" he asked suggestively. Natasha sent him a disgusted look. He didn't think so – but it was always fun to see her funny reactions. Especially when she couldn't verbally abuse him for it.

"How about these ones…?" he said pointing at the pile under her pillow. She promptly smacked his hand away from the other scrunched up pieces of paper she had stuffed under her pillow and glared at him. He laughed and held his hands above his head.

"Okay! Okay! You can have your secret fail letters you will probably burn when you have the chance," he said shaking his head at her dramatic reactions. Then again he knew it must be hard to be forced to be this expressive when she was normally always such a closed off person. She huffed and looked away.

He waited 5 seconds before he dived under her pillow and quickly grabbed a hand full of papers before she freaked out and tried to get them back from him. He laughed as she practically strangled him trying to take the letters from his grasp. He managed to pry open one of them before she ripped half of it away. He quickly scanned the half he had left and the grin faded from his face. It wasn't a letter at all.

Are we still partners?

Are we still friends?

Am I still on the Avengers?

Am I going to be kicked out of SHIELD for this?

Is there a cure?

Am I stuck like this forever?

If I have to leave where will I go?

Am I going to be on my own again?

Natasha sat on her knees beside him as he silently finished reading the last line on the crumped sheet of paper.

"I don't know the answers to the any of these questions Tasha…expect for the last one," he said quietly as he looked up at her guarded eyes.

"Wherever you go - I'll follow. You'll never be alone," he promised curling a short strand of her hair around her ear. She stared at him with the most intense look she has ever given him. She couldn't tell him what she was thinking – but he could read it in her eyes.

Thank you.

The end….or is it?

A/N: Would you guys like to see a longer version of this one shot?