The first time Clint Barton told Natasha Romanoff he loved her; she was dying.

A mission in Prague had ended in a hostage situation.

After taking out the target, the two assassins moved to clear the building; ensuring all hostages were out and all adversaries were dealt with.

Natasha had been on the ground floor, and Clint on the first when an explosion rocked the foundations and the building came down on top of them.

Clint managed to dig himself our pretty quickly, having suffered only a few broken ribs; his partner, was not so lucky. Several hours later, after the collective effort of Clint and 13 shield agents, they located Natasha beneath the rubble. Lifting her unconscious form onto a gurney; the medical team ran to their transport jet, with Clint hot on their heels. They everything they could for her; infusing fluids, providing oxygen, transfusing blood; they tried it all on the flight back. Clint prayed she’d make it, even if he could tell the medical team didn’t hold out much hope...

“I need you to keep fighting Natasha; you can’t give in. You’re strong, stay strong! I can’t do this without you. I love you” he whispered, stroking her face and gripping her hand. They’d been partners for years, friends for almost as long and Clint had been battling his feeling ever since he spared her life one cold evening in Budapest...

She’d been unconscious when they’d pulled her from the wreckage, as well the whole flight back home. She coded as they unloaded the gurney from the jet and had to be resuscitated there on the roof.

Clint was beside himself with worry; she coded twice more in surgery and lost more than half her blood volume. She'd been internally bleeding the whole time and was lucky to make it off the table.

But she pulled through it and went on to recover at an amazing pace, amazing even the doctors when she walked out of the infirmary just one week later.

---

The second time he uttered those words was following a mission in Brazil.

Putting herself in the crossfire; she’d saved a young boys life, but an opposing agent had snuck up behind her, kicked out towards her ribs and slammed her head into the ground. Her reactions slowed as her vision blurred, but she took him out with her widow’s bite and soon the fighting was over.

“You alright Nat?” he asked, watching as she struggled to focus her vision on the shield agents talking in front of her

She nodded, but placed a hand to the base of her skull and withdrew it to find blood.
He dragged her off to sit someone quiet and alone as the clean up team got to work and they waited for an extraction.

“Natasha, can you focus on me?”

“Stop dancing around like that and maybe I will”

Clint smirked; “Tasha, we’re sat down. No dancing going on”

“Whatever Barton” she frowned

“How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked, holding one hand directly in front of her face

“I dunno... Like 7?”

“What’s your favourite food?”

“Indian”

“That’s my favourite food; you like Thai. What’s my middle name?”

“Alianovna”

“That’s your middle name”

“Right”

“Favourite food?”

“Indian”

“That’s still wrong. What about your favourite TV show?”

“Firefly”

“Again, that’s my favourite, not yours. Your favourite city?”

“Budapest”

“Least favourite city?”

“Budapest”

“Natasha, you have a pretty bad concussion”

“I do not, you do!” she answered defiantly

“Put your finger on your nose” he instructed and watched as she missed completely and poked herself in the eye.

She looked upset as realisation dawned on her, so he sat beside her in silence, holding a piece of cloth to her bleeding wound, and placing her arm round her shoulders as she shivered against the cool night breeze.

“I love you” he whispered, kissing her temple as she whispered her thanks.

When she recovered, she had forgotten most of what had happened, including his confession, and he began to think it was probably for the best...

---

The third time was after an explosion had left her temporarily without her hearing.

They’d spit up in order to take down an Iranian criminal who had taken over a local drug cartel and weapons dealer. He had plans to expand and start shipping to the US so shield decided it was time to take him down.

Clint had infiltrated and made it to the man’s office while Natasha was tasked the role as distraction. Working her way across the compound; she easily took out man after man, obliterating the members and dealers of the cartel as Clint target watched angrily on the security feeds; he didn't even notice the archer approaching. He took down the target swiftly and once Natasha had finished with his men; they both made their way towards each other, planning to meet at the rendezvous before heading back to the safe house for the night.

Little did they know the man Clint had killed was just the figure head; the brains of the operation was his younger brother and he’d been following Natasha’s progress, watching her take out his men.

Before she made the rendezvous a grenade was thrown from nowhere. She reacted quickly and got out of dodge before it exploded, by the time Clint made it to her; the man who’d thrown it was also dead, but he quickly deduced that the explosion had affected her hearing.

Cleaning her wounds once they were back at the small cabin; he forced himself to confront his feelings once again. Hearing that grenade go off, not being able to find her; he’d panicked and cursed himself for not admitting his feelings sooner. Picking pieces of glass and shrapnel from her shoulder, he whispered “Natasha, I don’t expect you to return these feelings. But I can’t help myself; I love you, and I always will”

It was another two days before her hearing came back, and once again his admission had gone unheard.

---

The fourth time was following a mission with the Avengers.

She’d saved Stark’s ass, but been thrown from the roof and broken her arm in three places, while also snapping her wrist and dislocating her shoulder.

She was on some pretty hefty painkillers and Stark had been taking great advantage of that;

“So Widow, you got any dirt on Fury?”

She giggled and started reeling off highly classified information before Clint could stop her. He quickly cleared their teammates out of her hospital room before they could ask anymore inappropriate questions.

“Clint, I have some concerns” she told him, deadly serious despite being completely high from the drugs in her system

“Oh yeah?” he asked

“Thor is going to eat all my pop tarts” she told him

“Yeah, that’s a possibility”

“Do you think Tony would like a dog? We should get him a present for letting us stay with him”

“Tony doesn't want a dog Tasha”

“What about a ping pong machine?”

“He’d probably love it, Pepper probably would not”

"A blu ray player? A golf set? What about some smelly candles? A teapot?"

"Nat-"

“Oh a bread maker!” she asked excitedly

“Natasha, you saved his life today. I don’t think you need to get him a present”

“Can we get a bread maker for us?”

“If you still want a bread maker when all these drugs are out of your system, I’ll get you a break maker”

“Pinky promise?”

Clint smiled and nodded in agreement; linking his little finger with her own outstretched one.

From her hospital bed Natasha smiled brightly at him, before yawning.

“You should get some sleep”

“I don’t want to. I have funny dreams”

“What about?” he asked intrigued, she only usually had nightmares and she never really spoke about those.

“Shield had a party with too many balloons. Fury was a pirate, you weren't allowed in on a motorcycle and there was something to do with a giraffe...”

Clint laughed again and took a seat by her bedside;

“I’ll be right here” he told her gently

She looked suddenly content; like those four words were everything she’d ever needed to hear. She nodded and closed her eyes; sleep taking her in seconds.

And then he whispered those three words once again, kicking himself that he couldn’t bring himself to do it when she was awake, or lucid, or able to hear...

---

The fifth time he admitted his feelings was because he was the one dying.

He’d been shot, and it had taken medical too long to get to him.

He was wheeled through to shield’s medical bay once they'd reached the hellicarrier; close to bleeding out and desperately trying to cling to consciousness.

Suddenly he felt a static shock on his hand; forcing his eyes open he saw his partner desperately clutching his hand in hers, worry clouding her emerald eyes.

“Tasha”

“Clint you idiot” she said, forcing herself to keep control of her emotions and not let the tears fall from her eyes.

“Natasha, I need to tell you something. It’s – It’s important” he stuttered as they approached the operating theater

“Tell me after” she said, hoping to give him something to hang on for

“You can’t go any further Agent Romanoff” one of the doctors told her. Clint grabbed her hand tighter and the gurney stopped its journey.

“We really need to-“ the doctor began, before Agent Hill whispered “Just give them a minute”
It wasn't quite private like he'd planned it; surrounded by medical staff and the deputy director of shield, but he had to do it. It might be his last chance;

“Natasha, I’ve been trying to tell you for years; I love you. I have always loved you, ever since Budapest. And I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you”

Natasha froze; hearing those three words from Clint was something she’d never allowed herself to fantasize about; love was for children, but Clint Barton had opened her eyes and made her question everything she’d ever believed...

Before she regained her composure enough to reply, he passed out and was rushed into surgery.

She paced the hallways and refused to leave. she was furious with herself for not telling him how she felt, that was her shot and she missed it...

It was the longest few hours of her life but finally the doctor emerged and informed her that he would be okay.

He came round the following day to find his partner sat by his bedside

“Natasha-“

“Clint, I love you” she interrupted before he could say anything. Before she could lose her nerve...

And finally, he was able to reply with four words he never believed he’d be in the position to say to her; “I love you too”

Notes