Chapter 9
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The soldier has been woken up for a check up , for an update on the arm and he sits quietly as they work, doesn’t speak though others speak near him. They speak about him, not to him, so he does not say anything.
“His words haven’t changed in a while, that one set used to change all the time.”
His words are something he always glances at when he wakes up, seem important though he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t look at them now, just keeps staring ahead as they work on the arm, continues listening.
“Pretty sure that was the red room girl’s words, they shouldn’t change anymore, most of them were wiped out and he had very specific orders about them that mission.”
He doesn’t remember what they are talking about but there is a flash of red in his mind, of softness and the thought that he managed to protect someone, keep them alive. He doesn’t know where it comes from but it soothes him just a bit knowing that he may have been able to protect someone.
“It is weird that he hasn’t heard the other set though, think he has heard them but not said anything?”
One of the techs says this and the soldier thinks about the other set of words, the longer set and somehow he knows that they have been spoken but says nothing. If he didn’t say anything there was a reason and it would not be something that would be approved of, meant he disobeyed orders.
“No, there are orders in place and besides weapons don’t lie.”
This is said now and the soldier supposes it is the truth but he can lie when he is told to and he thinks perhaps he has lied before, lied for someone other than their handlers. He wonders if that makes him more than a weapon but he shouldn’t think that way, he knows what he is and it can’t be changed but maybe he has been something more before. He keeps silent, just listens as they change the subject to what needs to be done to his arm. He just sits and does as he is told and soon enough he is took back to the cold, right before sleep takes him, he thinks about the words, gets thoughts of red hair and greenish blue eyes, of soft hands and kind smiles, of names and chocolate, and he hopes that maybe he’ll dream of these things.
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Clint looks for the soldier, looks for him for over a year after he rescued him, but he can’t find him. He is always referred to as a ghost and Clint almost believes it but he has seen him, has touched him and spoke to him, and he is supposed to be Clint’s and Clint can’t find him, can’t help him. He takes jobs that take out dangerous and horrible people, wants to help someone even if he can’t find his soulmate, but it doesn’t seem to make much of a difference. It frustrates him and hurts so damn much and he lashes out a bit more, takes more and more dangerous jobs, thinks maybe it will get the soldier sent after him but someone else comes after him instead and he slips up, gets caught. He finds himself in a small room, hands cuffed and a man with an eye patch and leather coat seating across from him, looking over some files.
“You know it is rude to not introduce yourself to people that you have had captured. I’m sure your mom raised you better than that.”
There is something like a hint of a smile that crosses the man’s face before he speaks.
“You’re right about that, Mr. Barton. Name’s Nick Fury, head of SHIELD. We’ve been looking for you for a long time.”
Clint is aware of SHIELD, knew which organization held him and he almost wants to ask if Fury is really his name but he decides to say something else instead.
“I would shake your hand but can’t quite reach. Hate to be rude, want to unlock these for me?”
He asks now, gestures to the cuffs and Fury just shakes his head now.
“Maybe latter, want to talk first. You know, you have quite a rap sheet, lots of crime, you are looking at being put away for a very long time. I have a feeling that isn’t something you want.”
Clint just sort of shrugs now.
“It wouldn’t really be a vacation, food would probably suck, but at least I wouldn’t have to worry about rent. Employment is not always steady and my job’s a bit dangerous. “
Clint says this, is trying to play everything casual right now though he is a little nervous. He hasn’t been captured for a while and he has never been captured by an organization like SHIELD, he doesn’t know what to expect. Fury just stares at him for a moment like he is just a bit amused by Clint’s words while also judging him just a bit and then he speaks.
“I can help with the steady employment but not with the dangerous part. Better benefits than what you have now, won’t add to your record and may help clean it up a bit , if you’re interested.”
This is not what Clint was expecting and he sort of just stares for a moment before speaking.
“Are you offering me a job? Why?”
He asks, genuinely curious about it. Fury answers after just a moment.
“ You have skills we can use and you seem to take the jobs with the scummiest targets. I think you got yourself into a bad spot, been trying to survive but make a difference at the same time. We can help with that. You can take the job or go to prison, the choice is yours.”
The last words almost sound like a threat but Clint gets. He has done a lot of bad things, most to bad people but still crimes and he can get a second chance but there are conditions to it. He thinks about it for only a moment before giving a nod.
“Ok, sign me up.”
He says this and Fury gives another brief almost smile before reaching forward and un-cuffing Clint’s hands. They shake hands then, Fury presents him with some paper work, he signs and then the next few hours he answers a bunch of questions. He answers them honestly till he is asked about if he has a mark, if the words have been said. He shows the mark but lies about it at the same time.
“I don’t think I’ll hear them anytime soon.”
He says this and it is an almost truth, he doesn’t think he’ll hear them anytime. Fury just gives a nod but stares at his words for a little while.
“Looks like they have been written twice, once on top of each other. Not seen one like that before. Has it always been like that?”
He asks and Clint gives a little nod.
“If they are said, we need to know, it can complicate things but we respect marks here, will help you keep whoever says them safe. Now ,are there any connections you have that we should be aware of?”
He asks and Clint answers his questions, leaves out the soldier. Most people don’t believe he even really exists and he wouldn’t know how to explain it all right now any way, he’ll still look for him when he can but he has to take this chance at a new start, needs to be doing more than he was. Maybe he won’t be able to find his soul mate again, but at least he should be able to make a difference.
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Natasha tries not to look at the words when they come onto her skin, tries not to think about how they don’t change anymore, how both stay the same now. It has been a couple of years now since the she heard them spoken and it really does feel like the words mean the nothing that they are supposed to and she doesn’t mind them not being on her skin, welcomes the knives to cut them off. She still goes to her handlers like clock work to get them cut off but a bit has changed since she last saw her soldier who was never really hers. The red room is not what it once used to be, it barely survived and sometimes Natasha is finding it a bit harder to follow her orders, is finding it a little harder to shoot when she is pointed somewhere. She knows it is what she is meant to do but she sometimes thinks about the soldier’s words of choices and she wishes that she could have some sort of choice in what she does. It is a dangerous thought and she tries to stamp it down but it is still there.
Her hands get covered in more and more red, stained down to the bone with it and she sometimes finds herself taking on extra jobs, knows that she is getting herself known outside the red room. Natasha has to fill her time somehow and this is the only thing she knows, the thing she was made for, and she makes the best choices she can with it sometimes. She lets innocents escape when she can, lets them run and doesn’t always report it. It is a small thing, letting one live when she can, but it helps her sleep a little bit better at night but she still dreams of screams most nights, of her knives landing in flesh, of rooms stained with red.
She keeps going, keeps doing her job, keeps staining her hands but she knows it can’t last forever. Something has to happen, she is making too much of a name for herself, is becoming too known, and she will eventually be stopped somehow. It will either be her agency or one of the ones chasing it and she wonder if she will hear the second set of words before that, tells herself that they don’t matter. All Natasha can do now is follow her orders and hopes that soon they will stop, that soon she will be stopped cause she doesn’t know how much longer she can do this.
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Clint has been with SHIELD a few years now, has rose through the ranks, and he is doing good work. Fury trusts him for the most part or at least seems to and that means more to Clint than he thought it would. Life is ok for the most part but Clint still aches sometimes when he sees his words in the mirror, when he remembers the soldier. He doesn’t know if the other is still alive and he looks when he can but there is no sign of him and Clint wonders if maybe he really is a ghost. He doesn’t know at this point but right now his attention is spent tracking down some one else whose name is whispered in the dark and he has found her now, has spent the last week or so trailing her .
Natasha Romanov is known as the black widow and she is a danger to the world at large, has killed for a long time despite how young she is. Her youth is one of the first things Clint notices about her, she is younger than him and sometimes looks even younger than her real age. She is small and graceful, could easily pass herself off as a dancer, but she is also quick and dangerous. She is a target, has done a lot of bad things, but there is just something about her that makes Clint wonders if she really deserves to die for all that she has done.
Clint has read her file over and over again, knows that she was taken young, trained to be a killer and it makes him think of the soldier a bit. She was never given a choice, just like he wasn’t given choices, and the thought of it makes Clint ache and he watches her closely, sees more than just the fearsome killer. There is a kindness to her, a kindness that he sees when she lets a small child pick pocket her though she could have stopped it, a kindness in the way she helps an old woman stand up after a fall. It is small things but sometimes small things mean a lot and in this case, they do. Those small things tell him that there is more to her than just being a weapon and he has his orders but his orders are wrong this time. She deserves a chance to be more than what she is and Clint is going to try to give it to her, even if it costs him his second chance.
He gets her cornered one night, let her see him and she tries to run, almost makes it out but Clint manages a good shot. It is her left shoulder, in a really awkward spot and she is already bleeding quite a bit and will bleed more when the arrow is taken out. It shouldn’t be anything too life threatening but she does look like she may pass out soon though Clint has a feeling that isn’t all from blood loss, that she has been running herself ragged the last few weeks. She has been running but Clint has caught up to her he can offer her a chance, speaks the words he has been waiting to speak for a while, hopes that she is willing to listen to them.
“Could have put it through an eye, need to talk to you, about chances.”
He says this all with a steady voice and the widow looks up at him now, stares at him with wide eyes before she pulls the arrow out, blood pouring out and she lets herself fall to the ground now, holds the arrow out and she mutters words in Russian that Clint had never expected to hear again and his world has turned upside down now.
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Natasha had grown tired the last month or so, grown restless and weary, and it is part of why she had been a bit sloppy, why she had allowed herself to be followed for a little while. She just needs something to happen, for something to change and when the arrow hits her shoulder, she knows that something is about to,she just wonders why it didn’t hit her in the head. She knows who has been chasing her and Hawkeye could have made the shot. He is coming closer to her now, closer to where she stands wobbling a bit, shoulder with an arrow sticking out of it, blood covering her, and he looks at her for a moment before he speaks, voice steady and calm.
“Could have put it through an eye, need to talk to you, about chances.”
He says this and she knows those words, used to wonder who would say them, had decided that it didn’t matter and now they are being said.They are being said by a shield agent, by a man who just put an arrow in her shoulder and it is almost fitting in a way that both of those who said her words have made her bleed. Even her words are stained red in a way and Natasha almost thinks about laughing but she is so tired, doesn’t know what will happen now. Instead of laughing, she pulls the arrow out, doesn’t mind the way blood rushes out, doesn’t mind the way her head has started spinning, doesn’t mind the darkness clouding her vision. She holds on to consciences for just a moment, ignores the comforting darkness for just a moment as she starts to fall down, holds the air out to him. She means to speak in English but the words don’t come out that way, instead they come out in Russian and she wonders if he knows what they mean.
“Eta strelka prinadlezhat vam . Khotite yego obratno ?”
She can feel the darkness claiming her now, doesn’t fight it as much as she looks up at his face. His eyes are a greenish blue and they are wide and shocked right now and she wonders if she will wake back up to them staring at her or not, decides that it shouldn’t matter though it does in a way and she tries not to think about it as she loses her fight against the darkness and passes out.
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