Fic: Lost Without You, rated PG, 4000+ words8m57w6August 20 2012, 05:09:39 UTC
Natasha stared out the hospital window watching the last streaks of pink and orange fade to navy above the unfamiliar streets below. Months in New York and she had never really bothered to explore beyond the two or three blocks near Stark Tower. Even when she'd been working for Tony as Natalie she'd been driven everywhere in a car with deeply tinted windows that hardly offered the best view of the city. She probably would have had a good view while flying on the back of the Chitauri ship, if she hadn't, you know, been flying on the back of a Chitauri ship. And before the trip to Kabul she was constantly being sent on missions or called back to S.H.I.E.L.D, both of which meant she returned exhausted in one way or another and hardly in the mood to sightsee.
Now, in the aftermath of that worthless mission, she had all the time in the world to wander the streets. All the time and yet no time at all, because with each passing minute that Clint did not wake up, she became more and more desperate, a feeling which had led her to research all that crazy hoodoo in the first place.
She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. "I hope you appreciate this, Barton," she muttered to the glass, then pulled out her phone and called Tony.
"Hello, Natasha, it's been a while."
"Do you know where I can get the bone of a black cat?"
"Why I'm doing wonderfully, thanks for asking. And yourself?"
"Just answer the question, Stark."
"A black cat's bone? Well, that depends. Why do you need it?"
"It's none of your business is why, now do you know or not?"
Tony sighed across the phone line. "Yes. But if I find out you've been using it for illicit deeds, I will… Well, I'll be very disappointed in you."
"Like hell," Natasha replied.
"I'll send you the address of a guy I know who deals in exotic artifacts, he should have what you need or at least be able to point you in the right direction. Just don't let Fury catch wind of any of this."
"Same to you."
"Now, now, it was just friendly concern, you know that."
"Yes. Ok. Fine. You know I won't."
"Good. Nor will I. Now then, you'll have the details by tomorrow morning."
Natasha closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh. "Thank you, Tony. Really."
Tony smiled at the sincerity in her voice. Finally he'd done something right. "Anything for you, Natasha."
Natasha shut her phone and looked over at Clint, motionless as ever on the bed. She sighed, sitting in the chair that had, over the last few months, become her world. She crossed her arms on the bed, resting her chin on her hands and watching Clint's expressionless face.
"That's the last step, Clint. I hope to God this works. Do I hope to God with something like this? Hope to the devil? Well, whoever I'm supposed to be asking I just hope they hear it."
She glanced outside at the darkening sky. She had always preferred night to day. It was quieter, emptier, even here in the city; it was better for stealth and better for thinking. But here in the hospital she had come to hate the night, where all she could hear was the beeping of the monitors, and where her thoughts tended to run to terrifying places. Plus the daylight made Clint look like himself, while by night the harsh fluorescents made him look worse than he was. There was more life in him than they showed. There had to be.
Now, in the aftermath of that worthless mission, she had all the time in the world to wander the streets. All the time and yet no time at all, because with each passing minute that Clint did not wake up, she became more and more desperate, a feeling which had led her to research all that crazy hoodoo in the first place.
She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. "I hope you appreciate this, Barton," she muttered to the glass, then pulled out her phone and called Tony.
"Hello, Natasha, it's been a while."
"Do you know where I can get the bone of a black cat?"
"Why I'm doing wonderfully, thanks for asking. And yourself?"
"Just answer the question, Stark."
"A black cat's bone? Well, that depends. Why do you need it?"
"It's none of your business is why, now do you know or not?"
Tony sighed across the phone line. "Yes. But if I find out you've been using it for illicit deeds, I will… Well, I'll be very disappointed in you."
"Like hell," Natasha replied.
"I'll send you the address of a guy I know who deals in exotic artifacts, he should have what you need or at least be able to point you in the right direction. Just don't let Fury catch wind of any of this."
"Same to you."
"Now, now, it was just friendly concern, you know that."
"Yes. Ok. Fine. You know I won't."
"Good. Nor will I. Now then, you'll have the details by tomorrow morning."
Natasha closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh. "Thank you, Tony. Really."
Tony smiled at the sincerity in her voice. Finally he'd done something right. "Anything for you, Natasha."
Natasha shut her phone and looked over at Clint, motionless as ever on the bed. She sighed, sitting in the chair that had, over the last few months, become her world. She crossed her arms on the bed, resting her chin on her hands and watching Clint's expressionless face.
"That's the last step, Clint. I hope to God this works. Do I hope to God with something like this? Hope to the devil? Well, whoever I'm supposed to be asking I just hope they hear it."
She glanced outside at the darkening sky. She had always preferred night to day. It was quieter, emptier, even here in the city; it was better for stealth and better for thinking. But here in the hospital she had come to hate the night, where all she could hear was the beeping of the monitors, and where her thoughts tended to run to terrifying places. Plus the daylight made Clint look like himself, while by night the harsh fluorescents made him look worse than he was. There was more life in him than they showed. There had to be.
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