A shack and a tent

It took eleven stitches to close the wound. Sebastian thrashed slightly and passed out on the sixth,which was a great relief for Clint. Each time Sebastian groaned Clint wanted to tie the needle off right there and stop causing pain, this thought was driving him insane.

Both physically and emotionally tired Clint tied off the stitches and cut the excess string off. Letting the needle fall into the box next to the bourbon (which had lost more than a couple swigs during the stitches), Clint rocked back into his knees and gave Sebastian another once over.

He seemed to be sleeping quite peacefully, but Clint knew that would only last so long in that stiff chair. He had slept in plenty worse places than a chair before, some so bad that a Catholic Church confession box in Bulgaria where he once spent his entire night kneeling on the stool with his head propped against the door didn't even crack his top ten. He also knew all Sebastian would have to do is wiggle a little too much or stretch a little too hard and he would teeter right out of the chair and tear his stitches. Then Clint would probably have to redo them all.

Shuddering at the thought Clint eyeballed the distance between the not really bed and the chair. It was only about five feet, he could probably drag the assassin that far without waking him up. After a bit of trying to figure out how to lift the rather large man, Clint gave up and pulled him lightly out of the chair by the armpits.

Shuffling with as much care as possible, Clint transferred Sebastian onto the bed which sagged a bit under the weight, but held. Clint also sagging a bit in relief that he didn't wake the other man, suddenly stopped.

Why did I care so much about this guy?

I've done field stitches a hundred times and hardly blinked an eye at the moans, but tonight I could barely keep the needle moving.

Clint didn't understand this, but then again he didn't understand much anymore.

Why did the Winter Soldier, Hydra's number one asset save me from Hydra agents?

Why does he look so broken?

Why don't I just leave?

When this question popped into his head he stopped. It wouldn't be hard to leave, Sebastian was asleep, the keys were in the jeep and there was probably some cash lying around somewhere.He could just pocket the cash, put on his coat and disappear. It wasn't like he owed Sebastian anything, if he hadn't cleaned and stitched his side he probably would have either slowly bled out or got a horrible infection. Everything was even now, so why couldn't he just leave?

Because you're a soldier and he is too. You can't abandon a comrade, even if they may not be your comrade when they wake up.

With that thought Clint yanked off his coat and crumpled it into a makeshift pillow, making himself as comfortable as possible at the foot of the bed.

I wonder what Natasha is doing right now, He thought idly. I wonder if she is happy and sleeping somewhere much nicer than I am.

__________________________

Natasha was not sleeping. In fact she hadn't slept since yesterday morning when she left Avengers tower with a hastily packed bag and a herd of Avengers behind her, all toting hastily packed bags.

At the moment she was vibrating in seat 4a of Tony's private jet as it began its landing in Pulkovo International Airport, Saint Petersburg. Carson's carnival was performing in a smaller town a little ways outside St. Petersburg that Natasha hasn't bothered to look up the name of. For the thousandth time she checked the chunky digital watch, the one Clint liked to use on missions, clasped on her wrist, reading the time 4:23pm. By the time they got off the plane it would be almost five and then Tony would probably complain about being hungry, ending with them getting supper and them not leaving the city till around seven. She groaned inwardly, the circus could've moved on by then or even worse Hydra could've found Clint before them.

Or Clint could've known you were coming and ditched them days ago. Her brain supplied. Shut up. She told her brain.

"Attention passengers, we are now fully landed at Polkovo International airport. Please enjoy your stay in St.Petersburg." A voice echoed over the intercom, but Natasha chose to ignore it. Instead she pressed her face against the window and looked at the hazy skyline.

"Welcome home, Natasha." She whispered to herself. "Welcome home."

As the herd of jet legged superheroes clambered into the rented hummer in front of the airport Steve gave the snowy sky a long stare. In some strange way he was almost hoping that Clint managed to get away from the circus before they got there. It wasn't that he didn't like Clint, it was just that grainy background image of him with that girl was the first time he had ever see the archer actually smiling. He didn't want to take that away from Clint, he had earned a bit of smiling.

Then again, He thought as he slid into the backseat with Bruce. I haven't seen Natasha smile since she saw that picture.

Giving Tony a thumbs up, he stared out the window at the great mass of hulking buildings as Tony gunned the engine and tore out if the airport parking lot.

The circus tent stuck out like a giant, striped, sore thumb on the field of snow. Also the long train of ambulances, police cars and government vehicles leaving it didn't help very much.

The ambulance lights aren't flashing, there probably aren't any overly injured people. Bruce mused, then he realized why. Ambulance lights don't flash when they are carrying dead bodies.

Bruce scanned the hummer, noticing that Tony's hands clenching the wheel hard and his stony expression. He had a feeling the same thoughts were running through his head as well.

As Tony parked in front of the tent and killed the engine, the avengers piled out and stretched their legs for the first time in hours of plane and car travel.

"Where should we start?" Bruce asked clapping his hands.

"We should probably ask around a bit, maybe talk to the owner and the girl he was talking to in the picture?" Steve suggested, "Does anyone have the picture with them."

"I do." Natasha flicked open her cellphone and after a moment of tapping came up with the selfie with Clint in the background. "You guys stay here, I'm going to ask around about her. See if she is around here somewhere."

Natasha didn't give them a second to respond, instead she turned on her heel and walked off.

While Natasha wandered into the crowd, she felt a strange feeling curl into her stomach, one she had tried to suppress for a very long time. What that fear she was feeling? For the first time in years she may finally have her partner back and she was scared shitless.

What if he doesn't want to come home? What if he blames me? What if he tells me that Tallinn was a mistake, that he should've shot me and saved himself the trouble?

Natasha was so caught up in her what if questions that she ran smack dab into a very tall, very big man carrying a broom. Now in a perfect world Natasha would've been paying attention and would've hardly missed a step, but that didn't happen. Instead she hit him like a brick wall and plummeted to the ground.

"Oh god!" The man's words had a strange accent, it seemed to be a bit of everything, definitely a product of almost an entire life on the road." Are you alright? You sure hit the ground quite hard." He put out a hand to help her up.

"Yah, I'll be fine." Natasha ignored the hand and dusted herself off.

"What's a girl like you doing back here? All the performers went to a hotel for the night, unsurprisingly they don't like police."

"I'm not a performer." Natasha said in a tone she reserved for strangers. "Actually I'm looking for someone."

"Oh, well who are you looking for? I do know quite a few people."

Natasha showed him the picture. "The one over there talking to the man in the background."

The man looked at her oddly, "That's Aries. She's the show manager, I think she's in the main tent somewhere. Zach tried to get her to come to the hotel but Aries is a stubborn little thing."

"Great, thank you." Natasha gave the man a quick nod and jogged off to find the other avengers.

The inside of the tent wasn't nearly as bright as the outside was. Well at least it wasn't when the avengers entered, usually the inside of the tent was probably bright and colorful, but tonight it was dull and lit only by a few spotlights that were left on in the scuffle. The police had removed the bodies, but there was still the yellow tape and some very large bloodstains dotting the ground.

And at the centre of it all, there was a young girl spinning a bloodied arrow between her fingers. "I've answered all of your questions before, leave me alone. I don't want to talk to anymore policemen." She said without looking up.

Steve frowned, they had hardly made a sound coming in. "We aren't cops, we are just looking for someone."

The girl (who was really Aries) looked up. "So am I." She laughed bitterly, "I came to find my someone and all I find are bodies of men I don't know."

"We are looking for someone specific," Natasha cut in. "You may know him, his name is Clint Barton."

Aries eyes widened. "Sit down, I think we need to have a very important conversation."

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