Safe in Your Arms, an avengers fanfic

A/N: Another Clintasha story! Don't worry; I didn't kill Natasha this time (I seriously didn't guys. The beginning doesn't count). But this is dark guys. There is implied non-con. Nothing to graphic. I don't think I could write something like that. But it's implied. You've been warned.

All mistakes are mine so if you see one, kindly point it out to me :)

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT own anything Marvel related.

Safe in Your Arms

I'm dreaming, Clint thinks as he looks around the small room. Three things confirm his suspicion. One, he has been here before- last night to be exact. Two, there is no door. What room doesn't have a door? And three, the glass window is unbreakable. No amount of punches or kicks can break it. Heck, he doesn't even leave a scratch. In his experience, glass always gives way when he wants it to.

Clint heaves a sigh in his grief. He's been dreaming of this place ever since he was freed from Loki's mind control a month ago. And he knows what's going to happen next, he thinks with dread. He's going to look out the window and see the agents he killed. He's going to see Phil die… again. Clint squeezes his eyes close, trying his damn hardest to keep his tears in check as he thinks of his best friend. That fool… that stupid fool, thinking he could take on Loki by himself. Phil's death was his fault. He wasn't there to help him… to save him from the lunatic god. These dreams now serve as his punishment for his weakness. Every night he is forced to relive Phil's death, knowing that he can't do a damn thing to stop it. Clint tries and fails to ready himself- it never gets better.

To his immense surprise, however, he hears a female voice. Not just any female voice. Clint's eyes widen in absolute horror and he rushes to the window. No. No no no no no… Natasha! His partner is lying in the middle of the floor, battered and bruised to the point where she looks unfamiliar to him. That couldn't be right! He didn't kill Natasha! She got Loki out! He… he couldn't have killed her.

Knowing that his efforts are futile and still not giving a flying fuck, Clint punches the window. He throws all his body weight at it, willing it to break under the pressure. He screams her name. "I'm here Tasha! Look towards the window! NATASHA!" Natasha continues to moan, oblivious to his efforts. Her cries send chills down his spine; he has never heard her like that. Natasha shakes her head and for one split second, she looks his way. Clint slaps at the window again. See me Tasha. She doesn't. She continues to shake her head, whimpering. "Why can't you see me?" Clint screams. It's a two way mirror his mind answers. She only sees her reflection.

He feels tears run down his cheek as she begins to call for him. "Clint, where are you? It hurts! Please, help me!" He continues to hit the glass, oblivious to the stinging pain every useless punch brings him. "NATASHA! I'm here!"

Wake up Clint. Wake up. Wake the fuck up. WAKE UP! THIS ISN'T REAL. THIS ISN'T—

Laughter. Clint tenses up. He knows that laugh. His body erupts in a cold sweat. No. It can't be. Frantically, Clint looks around, looks around for the fucking bastard responsible for this. But he can't be here. He can't be in his head again.

There it is again! A spiteful laugh! Clint grips his head tightly in his hands as if he could squeeze out his voice and collapses to his knees. Goosebumps erupt all over his body. He's suddenly cold. So so cold. He hears himself whimper. "You have heart Barton" the voice whispers in his ear. Clint snarls and lashes out. "Get the fuck out my head! GET OUT!" It simply laughs again.

A sharp tap on the glass makes Clint look up (Natasha…?). He can't help the agonized yell that comes out his mouth as Loki smiles evilly down at him. Loki presses his face to the glass window, his eyes gleaming with pure malice. "You have heart Agent Barton." Clint is frozen on the spot. His limbs refuse to listen to him as his eyes lock on Loki's. Not again. Please, not again.

"CLINT! Where are you! Please!" Clint rips his eyes away from Loki and looks towards Natasha. He feels his breath hitch in his throat. Loki follows Clint's eyes until he is looking at Natasha as well. She seems to be oblivious to what is going on as she continues to writhe on the floor. Loki turns back towards Clint. A feral grin slowly colors his features. Clint heart stops beating. Before he has a chance to say anything, Loki is gone.

Clint blinks out the sweat and tears from his eyes and tries to control his shaking body. Where the fuck is he?! Without warning, Natasha gives a high pitch scream. "NO! NO, GET OFF ME!" Clint rushes to the window again and feels as if someone is carving his heart from his chest. He scream is loud and furious and he immediately continues striking at the glass again. Loki is on top of her. One hand is relieving her of her black pants. The other is tightly gripping her neck. Her cries are immediately silenced. Her hands are held over her head by some force Clint can't see. Loki looks at Clint and grins at him. Then without warning, he pushes his himself into her. Natasha's cries of agony are silenced by the hand around her neck, squeezing ever tighter.

In his rage, Clint smacks his head into the glass, not caring for the pain. "GET OFF OF HER! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! NATASHA!" He loses count of how many times he screams her name as he continues to hit the unbreakable glass. He sobs. He can't control them as they wrack through his body.

Loki continues to abuse Natasha's body. Clint cringes as he hears his moans of pleasure and Tasha's cries of agony. He sees her struggle against him- her legs jerk all over the floor and she arches her back in an attempt to get him off of her. Eventually, Loki finds his release and untangles himself from her. Natasha lies limply on the floor. She looks upwards towards Loki. "Why Clint… Why did you do this?" she rasps.

Clint feels his eyes widen in disbelief.

What?

Natasha begins to sob on the floor. "Why Clint? WHY!" Clint is at a loss for words. He doesn't understand. He looks towards Loki and backs away until his back hits the wall behind him. He isn't looking at Loki. Instead, he is staring into the icy blue eyes of himself. Clint Barton.

Clint doesn't realize he is screaming again until he feels his throat about to be torn apart. He gags. He opens his eyes just in time to watch his doppelganger take out a hidden blade from his vest. He uses it to slit open her throat. Natasha gurgles on her blood, choking. She clutches her throat with her suddenly freed hands and attempts to stem the blood flow. It's all in vain. Eventually, she lays still, the blood still flowing freely from her throat.

Clint collapses on the floor. His scream is raw and agonized. All thoughts of this being a dream leave him. He rips his eyes from his sockets. He runs his nails up and down his face. Clint's hands are slick with his own blood. He doesn't care. He continues to self mutilate himself, blind to everything but his own grief.

Natasha

NATASHA

NA—

()()()

Clint wakes up with Natasha's name in his throat. He swallows it down and gasps for breath, unable to stop his whole form from trembling. He rushes to the bathroom and just manages to throw up in the toilet instead of the floor. Bile. It's not as if he could throw up anything else. He hasn't eaten anything all day.

When Clint is sure that he is done puking up his guts, he closes the lid and flushes the toilet. He tries to take deep breaths as he lays his head on the lid. He doesn't succeed all that much. He clenches his eyes close, willing the events in his dream to go the fuck away. He runs his hands through his sweaty hair and tries to not think. A thought suddenly occurs to him and he panics. He gets up, ignoring his vertigo, and looks at himself in the mirror. He specifically looks at his eyes. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that they are his normal color of brown. I'm me. He's not here.

He creeps out of his bathroom and out of his room. In the hall, he looks around suspiciously before sprinting over to his partner's room. I have to see that she is alright- that she's not dead. He doesn't hesitate to rip the door open. He slowly walks over to the slumbering form on the bed. He falls to the floor next to her in relief as he sees her chest rise with each breath. She's alive. Jesus fucking christ. It was just a dream. Just another fucking dream.

Natasha's eyes snap open at the sight of Clint sitting on the floor next to her bed. "Clint?" She leans on one hand and uses the other to grasp his chin. She brings his face to her level. She finds herself alarmed to see the tear tracks covering his face. "I just wanted to see you Tasha."

Without hesitating, Natasha takes him into her arms and holds him tightly. He holds her just as tightly and puts his face into her red hair. He breathes her in, trying to convince himself that this was real. That she was alive and well and in his arms, safe and sound.

Eventually she lets go but grips his shoulders. She tries to look into his eyes but he evades her. He can't help the burning shame he suddenly feels. Natasha is nothing if not stubborn, however. "Clint, look at me." He knows he can't deny her anything. Reluctantly, he locks his gaze with her beautiful green eyes. She doesn't say anything. She merely continues to look at him with her piercing eyes, as if she is looking into his soul. Without warning, she gets up and puts on a hoodie and her shoes. Clint looks at her, confused.

Natasha hands him another hoodie (they have each other's clothes in both their rooms) and beckons Clint to follow her out of the room. "C'mon. We're going to spar a bit." Her tone doesn't leave any room for arguments. Clint sighs, pulls the hoodie over his head, and follows her out the door.

()()()

Clint is breathing hard as he blocks a punch. He throws a punch of his own and ducks as she aims a kick to his head. In Clint's opinion, sparring is the best type of meditation. He already feels the slightest bit better. This is real. The sweat rolling down his face and the sore feeling in his muscles are real.

Natasha backs away from him, eyeing him like a predator does its pray. She circles him slowly. He is tense, following her every move, anticipating her next attack. He moves just in time to the side as she jumps from behind him. He grabs her from behind and attempts—

Natasha hits his nose with the back of her head and uses her momentum to flip him over, until he is on the floor. He rolls to the side as she attempts to kick him in the stomach. He gets to his feet quickly, wiping away the blood that spurts from his nose. In the seconds it takes him to wipe his nose, however, Natasha is on him again. She jumps on him and uses her feet to put him in a choke hold. In seconds he is on the floor, his face still between her thighs.

Well…being choked out by her thighs was always a good way to go he thinks.

Natasha lithely gets up and hands him her hand. He accepts it and she helps pull him up. They don't speak as they catch their breath. Clint looks out the window and sees the sun coming up. They've been sparring for about three hours now. Natasha walks away to where she set her water bottle and abandoned hoodie and sits down. Clint follows her and takes a sip of his own water.

They stay silent for several more minutes until Natasha speaks up. "Are you going to talk to me now?" Clint looks away. He didn't want to talk, honestly. He didn't want to think about that damn nightmare again. Before they began sparring, she had asked about it (how she knew it was a nightmare, he wouldn't know) and he refused to supply her with answers.

"I don't really have a choice do I?" Her eyebrows furrow. "You always have a choice Clint." He sighs heavily. He feels the shame and guilt creep up on him again. How is he suppose to tell her that he dreamed about her being raped and murdered by Loki… by him?

He startles a little when a hand grasps his shoulder gently. He looks into Natasha's concerned eyes and grasps the soft hand on his shoulder tightly in his. It still astounds him sometimes that Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, holds so much tenderness, care and affection. He takes pride in that he is the only person aloud to see that side of her. "Whatever it is Clint, whatever it is you don't want to tell me, it's not going to drive me away from you. You should know that already. I'm here for you. Вечно." (Always).

Clint looks into her eyes and sees that this is the honest truth. No, he thinks. She wouldn't leave. He's stupid to think a nightmare is going to drive her away from him after years and years of being partners (and lovers). He sighs and turns towards her. He takes her hand in his and stares at their union. Natasha waited patiently for him to speak. "It was bad- worse than any other I have had" Clint begins. Natasha's eyebrows rose as if saying yeah I noticed.

"I was in a small room- no door, just a damn window that I couldn't break." Natasha nods and urges him to continue. "I usually dream about all the agents I killed or… Phil." Natasha tightens her grip on his hand. "This time was different Tasha. This time it was you. You were on the floor, beaten to a pulp, crying out for my help." Clint takes a shuddering breath. Natasha stays quiet and loathes the fact that he dreamed of her like that. "I tried to get to you Nat. I really tried. But the fucking glass wouldn't break… Loki made an appearance then. He- he-" He squeezes his eyes shut and wills the picture to go away.

Natasha feels her heart break at the sight of Clint so broken. "Go on" she murmurs softly. He looks at her then and she sees tears building in his eyes. "Jesus, he raped you Tasha. And I couldn't do anything to stop it. That fucking window wouldn't break! You started screaming. You…you thought it was me raping you Tasha. And it was. When I looked at Loki, it wasn't him anymore! It was me! My eyes were the same color blue they were when I was being controlled. I took out a knife and sliced your throat. I fucking killed you Tasha. I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry!" Clint begins to sob, unable to hold in his pain and grief any longer. Natasha tenses at his confession.

I won't touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you, slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. And then another. When she finally opens her eyes, she sees Clint looking at her, his face stained with tears. She knows she doesn't have anything to fear, then. She softens her features and grabs his face in her hands, putting his forehead to hers. "Listen to me Clint. It wasn't real. I'm here. I know that you would never do that to me. I'm safe when I'm with you. I trust you. You have to trust yourself." She runs her hands through his hair and she whispers her sacred words to him.

Clint releases a shaky breath and kisses her. She responds immediately and holds him close to her. When they break apart, he puts his face on her chest and wraps his arms around her. She rests her chin on top of his head and does the same, willing them to never be apart.

"Я доверяю тебе." (I trust you.) Clint simply nods and doesn't say anything, content to just stay in her arms.

He does.

The End

A/N: I told you I didn't kill her.

As much as I love Loki, I don't like what he did to Clint. Invading his mind was quite rude. I wanted to write this for a long time but other stories kept getting in the way. I hope Tasha and Clint aren't to OCC. Natasha is a difficult character to get down. Eh. I'll get her eventually. Practice makes perfect.

Leave a review? You have no idea how much I LOVE it when I get one. Tell me if you liked it, hated it or whatever. I appreciate constructive criticism.

Btw, I'm thinking about writing my first multi-chapter story soon. I have some questions. How exactly do you guys add chapters? Do you write the next chapter on a different word document and upload that? I can use some help on the subject matter lol.

Review? :3