Chapter 5: Relief

A/N: Just a notice to say that the next chapter will be the last. Thank you to every person who has reviewed, and/or put this story on your favorites/alerts list. You're all doing a stand up job, guys!

She struggled to open her eyes. Her head throbbed so appallingly it was as though someone was hammering a nail into her skull inch by inch. A low whimper escaped her lips. She wanted to clutch her pounding head, but her arms felt too stiff and heavy. Such pain she had not experienced in recent memory. Though… there was something there, just on the brink of her mind, the pain concealing it. A low menacing voice that she couldn't quite place just yet. Oh, how her head ached! Another whine slipped from her throat. She mustered up all the fortitude she could and forced her eyes open a crack. She caught a flash of green before her eyes closed again. Green. A memory of green eyes floated to the top of her mind. Thin lips, a cool touch. A name: Loki.

Everything came back in a sudden rush.

'Oh, God,' Natasha thought, horror-stricken. She remembered everything! Her stomach lurched, and in desperation her body jerked upwards. Tears swam in her eyes, making it difficult to see. Her fingertips touched the hollow of a metal bowl, and she couldn't hold it back any longer. She vomited up everything in her stomach, which didn't seem to be much. Her throat burned and ached. The tears ran down her face. She trembled and quivered uncontrollably. She was dimly aware that someone was holding back her hair, and stroking her back. 'Loki!' She pulled away with a harsh gasp.

Clint stared back at her, eyes dull with concern. 'Clint, oh, Clint!' Despite her sour breath, she smiled and smiled at him, relief and joy spreading through her. "Clint!"

An uncertain smile spread across his lips. He took her trembling form in his arms, wrapping her in a firm, warm embrace. She melted into his arms, still trembling and trying to hold back her tears. She reviled feeling so weak, despite all that had happened to her. She felt like some precious storybook princess, pathetically weak, needing to be saved by her stupid, dull prince. She had never liked stories like those. She resented them. She could, and had always, taken care of herself, living a dangerous life, and keeping a steely spine. The tears tracking down her face only added to her feeling of frailty. Still, she didn't fight Clint's tender embrace. His hands stroked her hair. A hot flush of embarrassment spread through her. She couldn't stop the memories of Loki's touch, his kisses, how good he felt inside her, from perverting her thoughts. She bit her lip tight, and held Clint even more firmly.

Clint's hands went to her face. He made her look him in the eyes. Natasha tried not to flinch when she saw the guilt, grief, and fiery anger in his gray eyes. When he spoke though, his tone was gentle and soothing. "It's good to have you back, Nat."

She lowered her eyes. She didn't feel comfortable looking at Clint now. She felt humiliated and furious at being so easily enchanted by Loki. "Thank you, Clint," she replied, speaking truly from her heart.

"Of course, I couldn't leave you. I owed you. Besides, you and I are a team."

"Where are we?" She was in a very clean, clinical looking room. The medical bed she was on was far more comfortable than the ones in S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Stark Tower. The top got demolished, but the lower levels are intact. After we took Loki, Doctor Selvig and I brought you down here. Bruce looked you over, and I've been here waiting for you to wake up."

Natasha peered up at him through her long dark eyelashes. "I owe you."

Clint shook her head firmly. "Nah, you don't."

"I do," she insisted. "You could have killed me all those years back. You spared me. Now you've saved me again."

"After you saved me."

She pushed herself away from his muscled arms. "I had to," she snapped, her mixed emotions driving her to anger. "I couldn't just leave you like that. I… I fell so easily. I tried to fight him, but..." she broke off and lowered her head, her face hidden behind a curtain of red hair.

Clint grasped her chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing her face back up. "There was nothing you could do." His voice was firm, his eyes mirroring that. "Loki may be a twisted son of a bitch, but he is powerful. I fell just as easily. I'll have to live with that. I can't remember much of what I did, and no one will tell me, not that I actually want to know." His voice softened, and he brushed his thumbs under her eyes, brushing away the tears. "Don't beat yourself up, Nat."

"Where is he?"

Clint smiled grimly. "We've got him. The Hulk really did a fine number on him. I wish I could've been there to see him get his ass beat down. Everyone has been working on a way to keep him from trying any funny stuff."

Natasha smiled very faintly for a second, before her smile curdled and died away. "You've been here with me this entire time?"

Clint's smile sparked into something much more sweet. "Of course. Let them deal with Loki. I wanted nothing more than to put an arrow through Loki's eye socket. I broke Loki's spell over you, I was going to stay with you until you awoke again. I had to make sure that his… influence… over you was gone completely."

Natasha placed her small hands on Clint's. She wanted to thank him, to tell him how much that his loyalty meant to her, but she couldn't get the words out. "So, what's going to happen to Lo… to him?"

Clint's eyes burned. "Thor is taking him back to Asgard to face punishment there." From the tone of his voice, Natasha deduced that Clint wasn't at all happy with that decision. No doubt he wanted to serve justice with his own hands, or at least with his own bow and a single arrow. It was almost enough to make her laugh.

"When?"

"Today. You've been out for a day-and-a-half. The others had to assemble Loki's ball and chain." He smirked at that. Oh yes, he was enjoying knowing that Loki had been defeated and was suffering. Natasha would too after what he had done to her.

"Good."

Clint's eyes narrowed. "You're staying here, Nat."

"No, I'm not."

"You need to rest, Nat!"

"According to you, I've rested for a day-and-a-half. I've had plenty of rest. I'm going."

"I can see how much you're hurting. Believe me, I know how shitty you feel. Stay here and get some rest. You need it."

She grabbed his wrists. Her voice was sharp and precise. "I. Am. Going. With. You. Do not try to stop me." She couldn't voice why exactly she wanted to go. "I need to see him leave. After what he has done to the two of us, I need to see him leave." She wanted to look him in the eyes. She wanted Loki to see that she didn't fear him. He'd see the steel in her eyes, and know that he no longer had any power over her. What he had done to her, she'd put behind her along with all the other dark, grievous things she had experienced in her life. She used those things to fire her determination and drive for her job. It was those things that burned inside her, and made her strive to be such a deadly agent. She didn't want to be weak.

Clint stared at her for a long moment. His gray eyes were clouded with something Natasha couldn't decipher. Finally, he nodded. Natasha took his hands in hers and touched her forehead to his. He gave her a quick hug before releasing her, and picking up the bowl she'd retched in. "Oh, no, Clint. Leave that. You aren't my maid." Natasha felt embarrassed all over again.

"No," he turned to look over his shoulder at her as he headed out the door, "I've got it. Take it easy, Nat. I don't mind." He nodded to the chair where he had been sitting. "There are fresh clothes there for you." His eyes searched her face, but he didn't speak. He gave her a gentle smile, before walking out the door; shutting it behind him to give her some much needed privacy.

Natasha swung her legs up off the bed. They were shaking badly. Pins and needles ran through her limbs, adding to her discomfort. She gathered up her clothes and went into the large, airy bathroom. Tony Stark really knew how to make a comfortable space, though she didn't expect anything less from a man like him, the bathroom smelled fresh and was spotless, she was relieved to see. She carefully set down her clothes on the toilet lid. Clint had been considerate, and folded her clothes neatly. She didn't want to wreck that. She turned and stood before the long mirror, staring long and hard at her reflection. She didn't look as bad as she had expected. Her face was drawn and pale, her hair was a ragged mess, but that was the worst of it, on the outside at least. Inside, she felt dirty and torn.

Her hands splayed out on either side of the sink. She leaned in so close to the mirror that her breath misted against the glass. She couldn't help but laugh then. Clint had applied makeup to the skin beneath her eyes. She couldn't picture Clint applying makeup to her unconscious body. He had done quite a good job. She could just make out the tidemarks against her skin, where it hadn't been patted in. She craned her neck; there was more makeup there. Her heart twisted horribly. 'Oh, hell, he knows.' With trembling hands, she peeled off her S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. Clint hadn't taken care of these marks. Bruises littered her pale skin. She recalled Loki leaving those marks there. She shuddered, and her stomach turned. She bent over the sink, gagging, but nothing came up.

She ripped her costume off, turning away from the mirror to avoid seeing the evidence of Loki's sick touch on her body. She pulled on the clothes Clint had brought her, pleased with his thoughtfulness and choice of attire. A mustard yellow jacket, a black tank top and another orange one, tight black jeans, and black ankle length boots. Not too flashy, but made for comfort. They covered up the bruises Loki had left on her torso too. A small black purse had been tucked into the jacket. She turned back to the mirror, keeping her eyes lowered. A few makeup items were inside, liquid foundation, concealer, loose powder, a peach colored lipstick, a hairbrush, and a few makeup brushes and sponges. Natasha never really wore a lot of makeup, but there were always the occasions where she had to look her seductive best, and it always helped to cover bruises, scars or evidence of a late night.

She applied the makeup quickly before examining her reflection again. She combed her hair out, wincing every time she snagged a knot. She kept at it until her hair fell in sleek bouncy waves around her face, soft to the touch. Her stomach tied in loops, her heart hammered, and her mouth felt dry. Loki was leaving. Thor was taking him back to Asgard. She felt a flutter of nervousness at the thought of seeing Loki again 'No,' she reprimanded herself. 'You're strong. You can face him. He'll see the steel in your spine and the boldness in your eyes, and he'll know you don't fear him.'

"I can," she told her reflection, voice firm. "I'm not afraid of him." Such pep talks didn't make her feel weird in the slightest. Rather, they solidified her, and made her feel better whenever she was feeling down. "I am Natasha Romanoff," her voice dropped to a whisper, "and I am not afraid."

Only then did she pack everything away, carefully wash her hands and leave the bathroom, clutching the cosmetics bag in her hand. She was a tad unsure as to where she was supposed to go now. She'd only been to the top level of Stark Tower. Luckily, Clint was waiting right outside the door for her. He gave her a once over, smiling lightly. "You look lovely," he commented.

She returned his smile. "Thanks to you. Where are we meeting?"

"Central Park."

She smiled and opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the sound of heavy footfall. Thor was striding down the hall, his handsome face shrouded with unhappiness, his hands twisting his great hammer giving a noticeable sign to his misery. He glanced up and caught sight of the pair, a drained smile on his face. He inclined his great head to them. Natasha felt her eyes widen at the sight of such a gesture.

"Natasha Romanoff, I am sorry for all my brother has put you through." Thor's voice was uncertain, as though he had to struggle to voice his thoughts. There was loneliness to him that saddened Natasha.

She nodded. "Thank you." She halted, unsure whether on not to voice the next line. The misery in Thor's blue eyes drew the words out. "I hope for your sake that your brother can find redemption."

Clint stirred beside her, but wasn't foolish enough to do or say anything. It was clear to Natasha, however, that he was not the least bit happy with what she had just said. Thor smiled at her, though; even the most callous hearts would have broken upon seeing the misery and reverie in that smile. "I have hope for such, too." He bowed his head again to both Clint and Natasha. "I am honored to have fought beside you, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff." Clint inclined his head politely, watching when Thor went on his way to fetch his brother.

Natasha watched him go, her heart going out to him. "C'mon," Clint muttered, gently touching her elbow.

Clint led the way, leading her down to a fancy car in the parking garage below. It didn't look familiar, so Natasha assumed it belonged to Tony. The man's choice of cars was as stylish and comfortable as his building. It had plenty of legroom, so she stretched her body out, gazing out the window as Clint drove. She tossed the cosmetics bag down at her feet. The view outside wasn't pleasant. Many buildings had been destroyed, and the streets were clogged with people moving debris, and sidewalks filled with people either watching or grieving. The walls of buildings were covered with pictures of those who had died, or were missing. Even from here Natasha could see the tears of those mourning. She squirmed guiltily.

"Don't." Natasha gazed at Clint in surprise. His gray eyes were focused on the road. "Don't you feel guilty for what he did."

She bit her bottom lip, worrying it between her teeth. "I can't help it," she admitted.

"I know," Clint's voice was tinged with sadness and guilt. "I know how you feel, but I hate seeing you so bothered."

She felt more comfortable with Clint than anyone else. Even now, with all the complicated feelings niggling at her, she felt safe and contented with him. She saw how tightly he clutched the gear stick. She placed her hand on top of it, stroking his skin. He allowed her to do so for a minute before pulling his hand away, reaching into his jacket. She felt a momentary flutter of shock and hurt before she saw just what he was holding out to her. "I thought you'd need this," he explained, a smile quirking up the corner of his lips.

She took her wallet from him, chuckling. "Thanks for that, too." She did need money, though she didn't feel comfortable talking about why even to Clint. She kept a look out until she saw what she was after. "Will you please pull over?"

Clint did so, watching her carefully, his eyes bright with concern. "Sure, Nat." He took her hand in his, making her look at him. To his credit, and Natasha's everlasting thanks, he didn't say a word. He simply gave her hand a tender squeeze and let her go.

Natasha walked into the pharmacy, her guts writhing like live snakes. The place was empty. Natasha didn't doubt that the events Loki and his army had caused would be a dream come true for drug companies. The sale of Valium and similar tablets would be going through the roof. Natasha silently counted herself lucky that she wasn't after such products. She browsed the shelves carefully, glad that she had the place to herself. The business had clearly been abandoned during the attack on New York. She hoped that the owners and employees had survived the events. She found what she was after and slipped into the employee bathroom at the far back of the store. She opened the small box of emergency contraceptive pills, slipping one into her mouth and swallowing it down. She resisted the urge to pop the rest like Tic Tacs.

She cupped her hands under the sink, taking a sip of water to wash the pill down. She hid the pills in her jacket. She didn't want anyone finding them. She stared at herself in the mirror. She hoped the pills worked. She couldn't imagine herself as a mother. She didn't really have motherly instincts. She tried to picture herself with a big belly, or feeling her unborn child move within her, and she shuddered. She especially didn't want Loki's baby. Seeing the child every day and having a physical reminder of what had happened between her and Loki would be too much to bear.

She left the pharmacy, slapping a twenty on the counter as she left to appease her guilt. She slid back into the car, noting that Clint was carefully avoiding her gaze. She was bowled over by how tactful he was being. She didn't want to discuss what she had gone into the pharmacy for. Clint knowing what happened was bad enough. Hell, he probably knew what she had just gone in for. If that topic ever rose between them, she dreaded how it would go down. She wondered if she would be able to keep her equanimity talking about such a thing with Clint.

The others had already arrived by the time Natasha and Clint pulled up. Clint turned to Natasha with a questioning look on his face. Natasha simply cocked an eyebrow. He knew what that meant and he didn't argue with her. A breeze stirred, sending up fallen leaves to bluster around the legs of the assembled. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents dressed in head-to-toe black surrounded the area, in order to keep back curiosity seekers. Thor led his brother forward, and Natasha felt her spine stiffen. She made sure she kept her face as still and impassive as glass. Loki wore a bright silver contraption, so like a dog's muzzle, around his mouth. Chains hung from his hands and feet. 'How fitting,' Natasha reflected, eyeing the muzzle and chains.

Doctor Selvig strode forward with a case in his hands. He set in upon the ground and Thor drew the Tesseract out from within it. Natasha tried with all her might not to blanch at the eerie blue light. Memories blew through her mind at warp speed. She fought hard to stop them. Loki's control may have slipped, but she didn't want him to see such thoughts in her mind, if indeed that was still in his power, and think that she had enjoyed their tryst. Loki was standing in such a way that he was looking right at her. Even with such demeaning objects on his person, Loki's green eyes were bright with mischief. He stared right at her, and Natasha was positive that behind that restraint the bastard was smiling. He wouldn't get so much as a scrap of emotion from her.

Thor approached Loki, extending the Tesseract to him. An idea came to Natasha and she leaned in close, whispering in Clint's ear, never once breaking eye contact with Loki. It was almost childish of her, but after what he had put her through, she felt she could take this one opportunity to one-up Loki. "It's too bad, I was hoping I'd get the chance to see you put an arrow through his eye socket." She made sure to keep a smug smile on her lips.

Clint didn't say one word, but Natasha saw the smirk on his face, on par with hers. Let Loki interpret that how he will. His gaze never wavered, nor did the cunning glint in it. She hated him for what he had done not only to Clint, Agent Phil Coulson, and herself, but the countless people that lost their lives during Loki's attack on the city. Still, there was some small part, hidden deep inside her, that felt sympathetic towards him. She cursed herself for being foolish, but he looked almost as lost as his brother. She wasn't sure why she was feeling this way. Some hazy memory when she had been under his control, a haunted look in his bright green eyes. 'You're getting too tender hearted, Natasha,' she thought irritably. 'He killed Phil. He would have made Clint kill you, or make you kill Clint. He violated you, so why do you feel any sympathy for him?' She had no answer to that. After all she had seen in her life, she didn't really believe in second chances. Perhaps she hoped for Thor's sake. It was obvious that Thor loved his brother. She remembered how much she had grieved for Clint, when he had been lost to her. Perhaps that was how Thor was feeling. He had helped defend Earth. Yes, she hoped for Thor's sake that there was still hope for Loki.

Only when Thor thrust the Tesseract forward did Loki's eyes break away from hers. His shoulder heaved, almost in a put out sigh, and he took the handle in hand. There was a bright flash, in which Loki's eyes flickered back to Natasha's. His eyes gleamed brightly, an unreadable expression in them, and, just like that, Loki and Thor were gone. Relief flowed through Natasha, a feeling she hadn't been aware she'd held.

She watched as the rest of the gang turned to each other, shaking hands and saying their farewells. Each of them would be going their separate ways now. Natasha would join them in a minute. She turned to the entrance of the park. The breeze brought to her the sweet scent of flowers. She closed her eyes, sniffing at the lovely aroma. She hated how vulnerable Loki had made her feel. He had known her in the most intimate way a man could know a woman. He'd taken so many lives. He had almost taken Clint. 'Almost.' She opened her eyes, her relief blossoming a true smile across her full lips. She walked back to the group, shaking hands and saying her goodbyes. She watched them depart, Tony and Bruce together in an extravagant red sports car and Steve on his trendy vintage motorbike.

She stood side by side with Clint. For just a second, their hands met, fingers curling around each other. The fresh breeze ruffled their hair and clothes. It was almost peaceful. Now she just had to question whether or not she was ready to face her feelings for her companion.