Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or any of the characters.

Author's Note: Ever since watching Age of Ultron, it started up my writing again, and the plot twist with Clint's backstory. A little idea turned into this one shot.

Thanks for stopping by, and I hope to hear from some of you.

Enjoy!

The fire cracked as she threw more logs onto the dying flames. She didn't know what to think of anymore. All her covers were blown with the fall of SHIELD. She should've followed her own advice when she told Rogers about pulling threads. And yet, she was stubborn.

She reached over for the bottle of hard whiskey. It was enough to take the edge off her pain. She figured she might have cracked at least a rib or two in the small scuffle she had while decimating the last of a HYDRA base. The Black Widow pulled aside her torn leather jacket and saw some blood seeping through. She kept telling herself it was time to stop chasing after Fury's leads. One of these days, it might just end up killing her.

The fire hissed again as she threw away the evidence of from her wounds. The random gauze filled with her blood melted into the fire. It was that plain and simple. Her eyes focused on the amber light, as she felt twinges of pain in between her breaths. "Fuck," she murmured. She took another long swallow of the hard liquor and hoped for the best.

…

Flashback

"Two minutes until the drop."

"Getting twitchy, are we?" she murmured into his ear. She continued walking down the city street.

"No," he replied back. "I want to get the hell out of here."

"You can thank him later for getting us this mission."

"Well see about that." Barton shifted his weight. From his vantage point, he wouldn't be able to get a clear shot. "We need better a plan."

"I'm all ears. One minute to go." Nat scanned the area, "If you're going to deviate, better let me know."

He chuckled slightly, "And now the tables have turned…for crying out loud, you're the spy. I'm just the sniper."

"Just the sniper," she quipped back. She continued to walk down the street. Her phone was pinging with the impending target.

Barton peered through another set of binoculars, "Looks like we have uninvited guests."

"Wonderful," she smiled. "Anyone else coming to join us?"

"It all depends."

"Hold your ground, Hawkeye. I can handle it." The Black Widow continued to walk down to her intended target, "Do you copy?" She waited a few more seconds before she heard a couple of gunshots behind her.

"I'm a little occupied at the moment."

"A little?" She raised an eyebrow, as she saw two more shadows trailing her six. "Never a dull a moment." She rounded the corner into an alleyway.

"I can't see you, Natasha."

"Shut up, Barton." She raised her briefcase and pounded it into her first unsuspecting victim. The force of it sent him flying backwards into concrete walls. She readied herself for the second attacker. She pulled out several sharp devices from her stilettos. The metallic objects sliced through the air, and hit their mark.

Her emerald eyes glanced down at her watch, "Mission abort. Do you read, Barton?" She ran out of the alleyway with her briefcase in tow. If she did find the archer, she had more than a few curt words to say to him. She saw the shadow of the clock tower ahead of her. It would be too simple for her to go there. They would both be compromised.

She adjusted her lilac scarf and decided it was too much at stake. It was time to head back to the safe house, and maybe make another attempt. The sun slowly set behind the ancient walls. A slow chill crept up her back as the air shifted. Something wasn't right.

Natasha leaned against the wall and surveyed the area. For the most part, it looked secured but something was amiss. It seemed like everything was forced to say the least. A couple of the bystanders stole glances her way, but something didn't sit well with the former Red Room prodigy. With the radio silence from Barton, that was another thing. By now, she should've heard from him.

Anyhow, she pretended to answer her phone as she continued to walk up the stairs. She reached down for her Glock. It was too quiet for her. She finally reached the top of the staircase and rounded the corner. With two small strides, she finally reached her destination. And now, her senses were heightened. She reached for her keys and pushed the door open.

A cold barrel rested against her forehead, "Fuck sake, Nat." Barton withdrew his breath. He stumbled back down to his seat.

"The same to you too." She quickly shut the door and surveyed the room. "We need to talk about extraction."

"I don't think it's a good idea, Nat."

"Why not?"

He pointed out to the window. "We've been played."

"There's a mole then."

"Yup."

"What's our next play then?" She circled the room looking at the weapons cache that Clint already piled on the countertop. Already she saw some flickers of lasers coming from the rooftops.

"Well between you and me, we can probably take out four of the snipers." He examined his set of arrows.

Natasha grabbed a few more Glocks, and started to hide them. "We need to make it to the docks."

"It'll be a hell of a run." He paused slightly and leaned over his seat.

"Barton?"

"Just got the wind knocked out of me."

The Russian spy ignored her partner's protests. "Barton, take off your vest." In the dimly lit room, she saw a faint trail of ruby seeping down his side.

"It's not that bad."

"Hn." She went back to the kitchen and looked into the cabinet. Thankfully, most of SHIELD's safe houses were laid out in the similar fashion. She found the first aid kit and pulled the hydrogen peroxide bottle with it.

"It's only a scratch."

She ignored his comments and applied the cold liquid to his wound. In the silence, they heard the soft fizz. She reached over the gauze and tape. "It should hold for now."

He sheepishly looked at her, "Thanks partner."

Before he could get fresh with her, she tossed him his shirt and vest back.

…

Under the cover of darkness, they broke for the alleyway. Barton fired a trick shot arrow and created a small diversion. It was a small window, but hopefully, they would make it the docks.

"Who the hell picked that extraction point?"

"Just follow my lead," she whispered back to him. A spray of bullets rained above their heads, as they took cover in the alleyway. She tossed a small grenade and it detonated close to the sniper on the rooftop.

"This is not how I wanted Budapest to end."

"And what did you have in mind?" She fired several rounds of her Glock in the darkness.

"I was hoping a little more sightseeing."

"That's a loaded statement," she smirked back and changed out her magazines. "Maybe next time."

"One of these days, Romanoff." He stood behind her covering for her. "Are we in the clear yet?"

"There's one more target," she caught a flash of silver and pointed in the general direction.

"Ladies first," Barton reached into his quiver and pulled out another trick arrow.

"On three…"

Before they knew it, an explosion sent a shock wave towards them. There was no time to react as she felt Barton push her towards the ground as he took the brunt of the impact.

End of Flashback

…

A coldness descended on the drafty room. By the now, the fire had died. And yet, she was still alive. Judging by the amount of gauze left, she was losing blood fast. She reached for the nearly empty bottle and downed the remaining liquid.

"What are you doing?" A hand swiped the bottle away from her.

Without any hesitation, she reached for her weapon and pointed it at the shadow in front of her. "The same goes for you."

"You're still the same, Romanoff."

Her green eyes focused in on empty room. She recognized that voice anywhere. "Whose side are you really on?"

"No one's." The room became silent again. In the darkness, he studied her.

"You're a fucking liar," she seethed. She hurdled the bottle at the shadow, but heard it shattering against the wall.

"Is that a way to treat an old comrade?"

"I guess that depends on your definition." She felt the effects of the alcohol take into effect.

"I guess so." The figure remained still in his chair. "Well let bygones be bygones."

"Easier said than done." By now there was no holding back, it was time to unleash the floodgates. There were no more filters. "I still hate you for what you did back then."

"It was a liability, Natasha. We didn't need two dead agents."

"More lies." She peeled away at the gauze and applied a fresh one to her side.

"How long are you going to be like this?"

"As long as it takes." Her green eyes glowed with ferocity in the darkness, as her shallow breathing increased. A chair scraped against the floorboards and the shadow slipped closer to the fireplace. Soon enough the room glowed orange again.

"Budapest was compromised from the very beginning." He saw the pile of tinged crimson gauzes lying close to the fireplace mantle.

"You were the mole then." Her green flashed towards her ex-husband.

"I hate to break it to you, I wasn't." He pulled out a small kit from his gray vest. "I need to see that wound, you're going to bleed out."

"Don't touch me."

"Listen, Romanoff, I'm tired of playing these games." She forced a laugh out that sent her into a coughing fit. "Always been the stubborn woman. Fury tried to extract you, but that plan backfired after we lost your transmitter."

"Is that so…"

"I tracked you in the woods, and so, here we are." He pulled a syringe from his vest and plunged the needle in her arm.

…

Flashback

A soft repetitive beep brought her out of her sleep. By her bedside, Rogers was flipping through a magazine and jotting something in his notebook. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

Romanoff looked around the room. "What the hell happened?"

"Doc said you were damn lucky."

"Where's Barton?" The monitors started to pick up on her increase heart rate. "I need to see him."

"Slow down…he's in the next room." He pulled the curtain aside, and she looked over towards her partner. "I don't know how you two made it to the extraction point…"

Flashes of images slowly came to her consciousness, and she remembered hearing a loud piercing boom before all hell broke lose. And then there was Clint lying on top of her when they both hit the ground. He was knocked out cold, but then she a trail of blood started to run down from both of his ears. Panic had set in as she dragged him to the pier. More bullets whizzed above their heads as she fired back. She used the last of her strength to get them both out of there, and then she felt something pierce her back. The air escaped from her lungs as she collapsed to the ground with Clint at her side. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone return fire before her world faded to black.

Natasha reached automatically for a button, and pressed it. She felt the drug enter her bloodstream. She's been through this before and it has become second nature to her, but with her partner lying in the next room, it was a whole new game. They were assassins by trade each with their own unique skill sets.

"How bad is it?"

"Bad." Steve leaned in towards her, "Fury was down here several times. Barton suffered hearing loss in both ears and has a traumatic brain injury. He even coded once." Silence filled the room except for the periodic monitors beeped away, "I'm sorry, Nat."

Without warning, she threw the covers and got up from the bed, pulling her IV stand with her. "You bastard…why did you have do that?" She placed a hand on the window. "He always tried to be the protective one."

"There's one more thing."

"What?"

"You should talk to Fury. It's not my place to say."

…

The next hour drifted slowly as she sat next to Fury. The words weren't sinking into her head. None of it made any sense. "Natasha…we had to alter Barton's memory." That was the one line that stuck out the most. It was a punch in her gut. "We had to create a memory for him. He was having too many seizures."

"He's going to live?"

"He will. We tried the best we can, but the medications weren't working." He slowly got up from his chair, "you can never tell him about this."

"Will he ever find out?"

"Maria is going to erase this part of the mission. It will never be found in the archives or any other place. " Fury stood in the doorway, "This conversation never happened."

Natasha walked down the hallway with a heavy heart. She lived in a world of espionage and secrets, but this one was going to haunt the rest of her life. Somehow she made it back to Clint's room. All that mattered that he was alive.

"Hey partner," he murmured under the cloud of drugs.

"Hi."

"Where are we?"

"On a helicarrier," she smiled back, trying to fight the tears that were started to form. "You should rest. We can talk later."

"Ok-ay."

She watched the archer fall back to sleep. She never did ask Fury what the new memory entailed for Barton, but she didn't want to know either. Somehow, deep down in her bones, she'll find out eventually. For now, her slender hand reached over towards his hand and grabbed it for dear life.

End of Flashback

…

The gravel pinged against the aluminum body of the car. The sound annoyed her at first and she shrugged it off before another round of pings brought her out of her nightmare. The road curved behind the rolling hills, and the redhead woke up startled as to how she got into this current predicament.

"What the hell are you doing?" Her eyes went wide.

"Taking you home."

Her eyes furrowed at the response, "It's not my home…it's not my place, Alexei."

"On the contrary." His steel eyes remained on the road. He opened his mouth slightly, but held his tongue. Instead, his hand went to the automatic door lock.

More cornfields passed them, and Natasha kept her concentration on the green tassels. "How long was I out?"

"Two days at best."

She peeled away her black leather jacket, the gauze was still holding in place.

Without asking, Alexei tossed an orange prescription bottle, "You might need those for later. The stitches should hold for now."

"Maybe." She slipped in her pocket, "You really didn't answer my question back there in the cabin."

"Are you trying to start another fight?"

"Maybe." She looked over at him, her ways of psychological manipulation were failing her. "You were always a hard person to read."

"The same goes for you," he snorted.

By then, a farmhouse came into full view. Outside, toys littered the grounds. "Why did you bring me here?"

"You need this…for your sake. Fury's orders."

Her green eyes narrowed at him, trying to understand what her former ex-husband was trying to do. The car came to a stop and the doors finally unlocked. She was free to go.

She reached for the door and pulled it aside. "I'll see you around then, I guess."

"Perhaps."

Nat watched him drive off, kicking up more dust and pollen in his wake. Slowly, she made the walk down the hill, being careful not to aggravate her wound.

"Auntie Nat is here," a child peeked out from the barn and ran towards the red head. "Catch me!" she squealed.

"You're getting heavy," she coughed. "Where're your daddy and mommy?" She watched the preschooler point towards the farmhouse. Slowly the front door opened, and for a brief second, her eyes fell upon Laura. She watched the little girl waved back to her mother, and she held her breath as the pain in her ribs flared up. "I'll race you."

The girl squealed as she ran through the fields of dandelions. Her short feet carried her up the steps and she declared herself the winner.

"Lila…settle down, get washed up and find Cooper. Supper is ready." Laura gently patted her daughter on her back.

"Didn't mean to drop in all of a sudden."

"It's a not a problem. Clint got the message today."

There was a racket coming from the kitchen as the back door slammed against the wooden frame. Not sooner than a few seconds, Natasha felt Clint embrace her. "Thank God, you're safe."

"It's nice to see you too." She coughed in her throat. "You can let me go now."

"Laura, grab the med kit."

"On it."

"I'm fine, Barton. No need to fuss over me." She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"From what Fury and Alexei said, they would say otherwise." He gave her a down-casted look. A look she was familiar with when they were on previous missions.

"Well I have the guest bedroom made," Laura came back with med kit. "Don't you dare think about staying on the couch."

"I guess I can't win with any of you at the moment." She picked up her bag from the ground and followed the couple up the stairs.

"Smart choice," Barton grinned at her temporarily.

…

Night fell shortly on the Barton farm, casting shadows over the cricket and cicada filled fields. Somehow Natasha managed to wrangle up her niece and nephew for their bedtime. "I can't believe it, you're going to be staying for a while," Cooper's wide eyes slowly closed, "We have to go to the fa-irr."

"Easy there, tiger." She tousled his hair before tucking in a loose corner at Lila's bedside.

"I don't know how you manage it," Clint leaned against the doorframe to watch his angels drift off to sleep.

"I have my ways," she smirked.

The two made it down to the kitchen, "Anyone wants seconds of this pecan pie?"

"I'm good. Dinner was fantastic as usual." Natasha reached to pick up the loose silverware and plates.

"You can stay as long as you need to."

"Thanks."

"You might want one of these," Clint offered her a cold beer.

She took it without a second after thought. She nursed the liquid in her hand as she watched Clint and Laura step out to the back patio, nuzzling each other on the porch swing. He seemed to be adjusting fine. There were no visible scars from their catastrophic Budapest mission, but deep down, she knew she would take the secret to her grave. It was for his sake. He always said he wanted to settle down somewhere away from the fighting. She remembered one of their late night conversations up on a rooftop back in New York a long time ago.

She took the last sip of the beer and headed out front. By now, a low crescent moon hung by the horizon line on this warm summer's evening. Fireflies glowed about the rows of corn.

She heard footsteps come from behind her, "Pretty amazing eh?"

"Yeah it is." She watched them weave about the rows. "Clint, are you happy here?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be…I have this to come home to. "

"Good...that's all I needed to know."

"You should try it some time," he looked up at the stars. "It's not a bad gig."

"Me?" She shook her head, "…not just yet."