fic; silver [the avengers]
silver
the avengers ♥ natasha/clint
post movie, but only a vague spoiler, “scars”
‘they’re like a roadmap on his skin, she thinks, or a story.’
a/n: I got ambushed by feels, and thus word-vomit occurred. welcome to my life. also, mind the gap. I’ve never written for them before.
Sometimes at night (looking down over city lights, mingling on a dance floor, speeding through darkened streets), they talk about scars, muscle memory supplying both question and answer in the silence.
They’re like a roadmap on his skin, she thinks, or a story. Her fingers trail down Budapest, a long, thin silver line that runs the length of the inside of his arm, jagged at the ends because he winced when the vodka wore off before she could finish stitching it up. They probably do remember it differently, but maybe that was the start.
It’s not far from there to Vienna: a large half-moon carved into his shoulder blade, souvenir from one of their first missions together. Clint still doesn’t quite trust horses anymore, and Vienna, well, that was before she trusted him.
Prague is a puckered circle on his torso and so much more blood than he could afford to lose. She actively tries not to think about it, and succeeds about half of the time. The other half, she sees red, and remembers. (something squeezing painfully tight in her chest, and wanting to pray but not knowing how to anymore. it’s one recurring nightmare among many.)
She has only the one scar, all memory of it long gone, but they told her it was where her appendix once was; something imperfect, so they took it out; then they took her out, too.
(that was before.)
He finds that scar in the dark, thumb lingering where the pull of something missing might’ve still itched now and again, if this were normal. you’re alive.
She traces the circle. so are you.
-on my tumblr