BUDAPEST
LOOKING OVER HER FILE, SHE STILL COULDN’T BELIEVE IT WAS HAPPENING. Here was the man who trafficked her, who took her childhood and choices, forced her to kill to survive, and… he was a father. That… it couldn’t be right; she refused to believe that someone would grant him with something as precious as a child. It wasn’t fair! Why did his daughter get to have a normal life, but yet, his widows – which he called ‘his daughters’ were forced to live in hell.
Clint shuffled over to her, clearing his throat and asking, “You okay?” Blue and Green eyes meeting. Pursing her lips, she shook her head as she clutched the file tighter. “No, I’m not okay. The man who took my choices and my childhood, the man who forced me to be a killer, is a..he’s a father, Clint. What kind of cruel joke is this? He has an 8-year-old daughter, and she gets everything in life from him. She gets to go to school, she gets to have friends, she gets to have a family, and what did I get? I got shooting a bullet in my friend’s forehead for my 5th birthday.” Shaking her head in disbelief, she leaned back in her chair in the jet, closing her eyes.
She tried to imagine anything else, but nothing was able to distract her. While she was there at night, wondering when her next meal was gonna be, his daughter was getting read bedtime stories. His daughter got to sleep without being chained to a bed and was given actual food that didn’t taste like mush. “I know I should just let it, but…” She trailed off, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them – trying to seem smaller than she was.
“No, Nat,” Clint shook his head, taking a seat right in front of her and staring her in the eyes - a look of understanding in his eyes, “You have the right to be mad and hold grunge. That man ruined your life, and finding out he has a kid – who he treats like a normal-fucking-human-being; I’d be fucking pissed, too. You were treated like trash, and you have the right to be mad. Sure, the kid probably has no idea what her dad does, but you’re allowed to be jealous and petty, and pissy, and whatever the hell you’re feeling. You can’t control your feelings, and… those feelings are pretty valid, Nat.”
She could feel her body loosen up as she slowly unwrapped her arms from her legs. “I want him to suffer. I want him to feel agonizing pain as he dies.” Her voice cracked slightly, her bottom lip shaking, “I want him to feel as disgusting and pathetic I felt growing up.”
“And we’ll make him feel like that, Nat. That man deserves to rot in hell.”
Her lips quirked up in a small smile before they disappeared, a serious look taking over her face, “According to Fury, there have been many assassination attempts to kill him. We have to make this one work.” She told the deaf-archer, who was leaning back into his chair, kicking his feet up on the table that was in between them, “What’s one thing that people can’t survive?”
Clint was quiet for a few moments, his eyes growing hazy. That was one thing Natasha always noticed about Clint. He would always zone out, and would have the most ridiculous plan… but it would always work. After a few minutes, he snapped out of it and blurted out, “Fire!” Jumping up out of his seat.
Raising an eyebrow at his energetic burst, she gestured for him to continue, “What if we rigged bombs? I mean, no one has ever survived bombs – except movies characters. But Drekyo’s not a movie character; he’s just a man.” he explained to the ginger, a smile on his face as he explained his plan. Natasha hummed, thinking over his plan.
It could work… They would have to plant bombs, but… that would have to find a way to make sure Dreyko’s in the building. How would they do it, in a way that wouldn’t end up with him getting ticked off and fleeing? “One of us would need to sneak in and spy on him; figure out his schedule,” Natasha spoke, a strategy already forming in her mind. “Fury gave us enough Photostatic Veils in case one gets ruined or we lose one. Do you wanna go in, or shall I?”
He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest, “You’re the better liar. Besides, I would be better getting entail from outside.”
It was true, thought Natasha, Clint’s always been better at getting things from outside. Groaning internally, Natasha rolled her eyes and scoffed softly, “Fine, I’ll do it. As soon as we land there, I need you to find me a way in, and a cover – in case someone realizes I’m not supposed to be there.”
Giving her a cheeky wink, he gave her a giant salute, “Ay, Ay, Captain!”
“Entertrance B is open,” Clint’s voice filled her ears. Adjusting her brown wig, she made her way across traffic and nodded at the guard, who stepped aside. Adjusting the cups of coffees in her hands, she made her way up to the receptionist. Currently, she was wearing the face of Dreyko’s assistant, who Clint and she had kidnapped for the time being. “Szia, tudja, hol van most Mr. Dreyko? Megkért, hogy hozzak neki kávét.” She asked the woman in perfect Hungarian. (Hi, do you know where Mr. Dreyko’s at now? He asked me to bring him some coffee.)
The older woman smiled kindly, and Natasha had a feeling she had no idea who she was working for. “Ó, a 17-es szobában lesz, a 9. Emeleten.” Pointing to the elevator, Natasha gave the woman a grateful smile and turned around, walking towards the elevator. (Oh, he’ll be in room 17, on floor 9.)
Pressing the correct buttons, she waited for it to start, leaning against the wall, and glanced around. God, she hated elevator music. Hearing the familiar ding, she hunched in on herself further, putting an insecure look on her face. Edlyn Simko was a middle-aged woman who had never settled down or had children. It wasn’t because she didn’t want them, but because she was never quite able to fit in well with people. But, she seemed just fine connecting with her ten cats and two ferrets. Walking past a camera, Natasha kept her face calm and her breathing even. “Nat,” Clint started, “Do you see that big, blonde guy? He has a hard drive in that red folder, which contains Dreyko’s schedule for his daughter. I need you to get it and transfer it to one of ours.”
Walking forward, she proceeded to bump into the guy who began cursing at her heavily. Forcing tears to form in her eyes, she spilled out apologizes back and forth, kneeling down to pick up all the stuff he dropped. “Te hülye kurva! Mindenhova kiborítottad a kávét!” He screamed in her face, his face growing red from not getting enough oxygen. (You stupid bitch! You spilled coffee everywhere!)
Discreetly sticking her hand in the red folder, she plucked it out and shoved it in her coat pocket, quickly picking up the rest of his things and handing it to the man. Giving the man a sorry smile, she walked away from the man. “Clint,” She whispered, “Where’s the nearest elevator?” Her voice was quiet, but Clint was, thankfully, able to pick it up.
“Two rights, and a left. It’s in the middle of the room.”
Turning to her right, she dodged out of the way of people who weren’t looking, almost tripping on some guy’s shoelace. Rolling her eyes internally, she couldn’t wait for this mission to be over. Yes, she loved the thrill of a mission – knowing damn well it could go both ways. It made her feel like she was doing something good in the world but… she wasn’t so sure about this one.
Yes, she wanted to take down the man who ruined her life, but… he was a father. A damn good one, too. Did she really wanna take away that girl’s only parent? Biting the inside of her cheek, she stepped inside the elevator.
“Which floor, my dear?”
She could feel her heart drop. All her muscles tensed up, her eyes wide as they can be. Playing off her feelings as her just being nervous, she turned to Dreyko with a small smile on her face, “Floor one, sir.” She told the balding man, who hit the button and brought his arms together behind his back. “You s-startled me, sir. I didn’t realize you were in here.” Tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, she adjusted her hold on her bag.
“Ah, it’s no problem, Edlyn; we all get startled, sometimes.” He chuckled, shaking his head with an amused smile. Disgust filled her body; she hated that smile. That was the smile he used as he watched young girls kill each other to survive. “But, uh… since you here, I have a request for you.”
Giving a nod for the man to continue, he continued what he was saying, “I need you to pick up Anotiona and bring her here tomorrow.” A familiar ring was heard as the doors to the elevator opened, “Oh, yes; thank you!” Giving her a smile, he walked away.
Clenching her jaw, her heart continued to race within her chest. “Natasha?” Clint asked, “Are you okay?”
“I know how we can get confirmation that Dreyko’s in the building.”
“You want to use Dreyko’s daughter to confirm he’s in the building?” Clint asked, his eyes wide as the can of rootbeer dropped from his hand. Quickly reaching out, she grabbed the can before it could fall to the floor and took a sip from it. “You wanna blow up a ten-year-old girl, Natasha?!”
Clenching her jaw, she kept her eyes locked with Clint’s, “What choice do we have, Clint? We looked at her schedule, and that’s the only time she’s ever with her father; after school. That’s the only time we know he’ll be with her, and we don’t know where they live! I don’t want to do it, Clint, but it’s the only choice we have!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. Running a hand through her hand, she let out a frustrated sigh.
Clint shook his head, letting out a laugh of disbelief. “There are always more choices–”
“--Not with this case!” Natasha yelled back, tears beginning to well in her eyes. “If we don’t take the chance to take him out more, he’s gonna take more girls. He does it every day, I… I can’t let another girl go through what Yelena and I did. I can’t let another be forced to kill their friends just so they can have dinner that night.” Covering her face with her friends, she let out a shuddering breath.
The dirty-blonde man watched the ginger with sympathy, standing up from his seat and crossing over to her, bringing her into his side. Natasha shook in his arms, guilt consuming her entire being. “I…” Her throat closed up on her, “Clint when I joined Shield… I thought I was going on the right path, but… I don’t know anymore. Some of these tasks that Fury gives us, I… it doesn’t feel right.”
“I know, Nat,” His voice was still rough from his previous anger, “but, what can we do?” Dragging a face down his face, he shook his head in disbelief. “We have to do this mission.”
Natasha knew it was true. Fury would be pissed if the two didn’t do the mission, and disobeyed his orders. She knew Fury cared for them, but sometimes she couldn’t tell the difference between Dreyko and Fury. Hell, there were moments where she couldn’t tell the difference between Dreyko and Tom.
Jesus, she hadn’t thought about Tom in a while. She was still mad at him, but he was still her first friend – her first protector. What happened to him after the graveyard? Was he dead? Was he being held somewhere? Was he… was he working with that monster? Did he go back to his old ways? Did he finally let go, and go back to those urges he oh so desperately tried to push away. Standing up from her position, she gave Clint a tight smile and walked out of his hotel room, grabbing the keys for her’s and unlocking her door.
Taking in a large breath, she closed her eyes and tried to force her mind to think of other things. Letting out a groan of frustration, Natasha flopped down on her slightly questionable bed and screamed into her pillow. God, why did her teen bullshit decide now was the time it wanted to show itself.
Rolling onto her back, she stared up at the popcorn ceiling; the sweet sound of silence playing in the background. However, that was quickly interrupted as the person in the room next to her began playing music loudly, (She told Fury, “Can you please get us rooms without paper-thin walls? Thanks?” Did he listen? No… bastard.) Jumping off her bed, she banged against her wall and yelled, “Turn off your damn music!”
Fucking asshole turned it up higher.
Rolling her eyes, she rubbed her forehead tiredly and grabbed her headphones, plugging them into her iPod. Pulling out her laptop, she brought it over with her to her bed and sat down with it. She’s so glad she (illegally) downloaded movies on this thing.
Pulling up to Anotonia’s school, she looked up at the mirror and checked her appearance. The back seat opened, and the brown-haired girl hopped in, throwing her bag off to the side. “Hi, Edlyn!” The young girl chirped, a smile on her face as she buckled herself in, “I wasn’t sure who was gonna pick me up today, but I’m glad it was you! Do you wanna know what happened at school today?”
Oh God, Natasha was really about to murder this child. Giving the young girl a sweet smile, she put the car in drive and pulled out of her parking spot, “Sure, sweetheart.” She replied – nice and short. She didn’t know if she was capable of talking to this girl without choking up with guilt.
The young girl’s lips curved up into a smile, tucking a piece of her hair behind her pierced ears, which Natasha noticed, had two studs in each ear. “So, Ms. Seres today finally caught the girls that were bullying my friend, can you believe it? It only took me kicking their butts, and Ms. Seres coming back from the bathroom at the right moment for her to catch them! They’re suspended now, and they don’t know I was fighting them!” Natasha felt her interest peek as the girl mentioned fighting these bullies… Maybe she was getting the same training as Natasha? But… Why did she get to have a normal life? Shaking those thoughts off, Natasha pulled up to a red light.
“Oh, yeah? I don’t t-think you should be fighting but… it’s a good thing those bullies were caught. Why were they bullying your friend?” She asked the young girl, actually curious. Antonia let out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes slightly, “they say she’s weird, and that she’s got some ‘mental disabilities,’ whatever that means… But she’s really nice, and she shares her goldfish with me at lunch. They also think she’s super weird because all she wants to talk about are cats, but cats are cool! So what if she’s been talking about them for 3 months straight, I love hearing about all the facts! Hey, Edlyn, did you know that Issac Netwon invented the cat door? We’re learning about him in school, and my friend just told me that fact today at lunch and–”
Natasha began to zone out as the girl continued to ramble, her arms flung around as she told her story enthusiastically. It felt as if Natasha had rocks tied to her feet and they were pulling her down into the ocean with how much guilt she was feeling. She wanted to say something, to turn around and beg for this girl’s forgiveness of ever thinking of killing her. But she couldn’t; her body was on autopilot, and even though her mind was screaming at her to stop; she couldn’t.
She’s supposed to be getting the red out of her ledger, but yet… she’s just adding more to it each and every day. She’s not the hero the wizarding world says she is; she’s a monster and a killer. She’s a disgusting human being, and nothing would ever change that! Her knuckles were turning white with how hard she was gripping the steering wheel, her jaw locked shut with how hard she was clenching it shut. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, her vision getting slightly blurry with her tears but she kept driving towards her designation.
God, why couldn’t she just stop the car? How useless is she – she can’t even stop the freaking car?! She felt like she was gonna throw up as she pulled up to the building, sending Antonia a smile as the young girl got out of the girl. “Bye, Edlyn! See you tomorrow! Love you!” And with that, Natasha couldn’t control herself, she pulled out of there as quickly as she could.
Ripping off the veil, she flung it into the passager seat and she ended up pulling into a random parking lot, where her and Clint’s escape car was. Flinging open the car door, she threw up – a disgusting taste in her mouth; one that matched the one she was feeling for herself. “Natasha?” Her earpiece activated, Clint’s voice filling her ear. “Are you… Never mind, I need you over here in 10 minutes. I can see well, but I still need a second pair of eyes, okay?”
Closing her eyes for a second, she let out a shuddering breath, “Yeah, yeah… I’ll be there soon.” She replied, her accent coming back. God, she hated that whenever she was upset – it showed right back up. Grabbing her stuff out of the car, she transported it back into the escape car and hopped into the passager seat, speeding out of the parking lot. The sooner she got this done, the better. She could go home and wallow in her self-pity and eat as much ice cream as she wanted. Pulling up where she was close enough to see, but still far enough away where she wouldn’t pull attention to herself, she pulled out her walkie-talkie and binoculars.
Adjusting them slightly, she brought them up to her eyes and searched for Antonia. “She’s leaving the lobby and heading up to the elevator. Clint, how long has she been in there?” She asked the blonde archer, who cleared his throat before answering, “The same amount of time you were gone for. She greeted everyone in that damn room.” His voice was rough – a sign that this was tough for him as well.
Letting out a hum in response, Natasha watched as the elevator door opened and she stepped into her father’s office, rushing up to give the man a hug. Clenching her jaw, she looked down at the car floor in shame. “Natasha, I’m in a blind spot right now. Are we clear?” God, was she really about to do this? Save millions of girls from what she went through but at the cost of killing an innocent, little girl and possibly others! “Nat? I need a go for the bomb.”
Letting out a long breath, she gave the girl one last look of guilt before whispering, “All clear.” Flinching back as the building exploded, she looked down – disgusted by herself and her actions. Throwing the walkie-talkie into the back of the car in a fit of anger, she took in a few deep breaths to try and calm herself down but… that only made it worse. Bringing her shaking hand up to her earpiece, she pressed it gently and croaked out, “Clint, I…I can’t breathe; we have t-to get out of here!”
“Deep breaths, Nat. Just meet me at our meeting spot, and we can head back to our rooms.”
Nodding shakingly, she put the car in reverse and removed herself from the gruesome scene, screams of anguish haunting her.
Unlocking her door with shaky hands, she stumbled into her room and made her way to her bathroom, turning on the sink and splashing cold water in her face. Grabbing the hand towel, she patted down her face and looked up at the mirror; a look of exhaustion on her face. Every time she closed her eyes – even for a split second – all she saw was the burning body of Antonia, screaming that it was all her fault that she was dead. Gripping the sink tightly, what was once guilt soon replaced itself with rage and without any control over herself, she punched the mirror in anger, dozens of tiny shards making themselves home on Natasha’s hand.
“Fuck!” She exclaimed, clutching the hand to her chest as she sucked in a deep breath, blood dripping down her arm, staining the bathroom’s weird carpet, (Seriously, who put a carpet in a bathroom?!). Hearing the door open that connected hers and Clint’s room, the blonde archer stuck his head in and asked, “You okay? I heard you just drop the f-bomb, and you only do that if you’re angry or… Oh.” He trailed off as he watched the blood drip down her arm. Letting out a sigh of pity, he walked over to her and gently pulled her arm away from her chest, turning it around to see the damage.
Biting her tongue, she held her breath as Clint continued to examine her arm before standing up, returning back to his room, and grabbing his first aid kit. While yes, Natasha did carry first-aid on her, it was like Clint’s first aid had everything you needed in there! Sometimes, Natasha seriously thought it was a magical first aid kit. Sitting down on the toilet seat, she waited for Clint to pull out the items he needed, setting them out for him to grab. Gesturing her to hand him her hand, she held it out to him and he pulled the first piece of glass in her hand. Sucking in a deep breath, she ignored the look Clint gave her and gestured for him to continue.
“...Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked softly, glancing up at her with his baby-blue eyes – the sunset from the bathroom window lighting up his face; his freckles almost looked like little specs of stars. Gritting her teeth together, she held in a wince and answered, “I… Do you wanna know what the last thing she said to me was? She said, ‘Bye, Edlyn! See you tomorrow! Love you!’ and I… I just killed that little girl. She wasn’t a monster like her father; she was an innocent little girl and I killed her! I let her walk into that building to get blown up into pieces!”
Clint hummed, opening up the disinfectant and pouring it all over her cuts. Natasha wanted to yell out in pain, but it was nothing compared to the pain and guilt in her heart. “She had friends, she goals, and I took that all–”
Her friend stopped her, holding up his hand and locking eyes with her, a serious look on his face. “No, Natasha. We took that away. You’re not the only one to blame, and you shouldn’t be taking all of it. I was the one who pressed the button, so, if anything – I’m the one who killed her. I could’ve made a choice to back off, to never set that bomb off… but I didn’t. Do you wanna know why?” Nodding slowly, Clint continued as he wrapped her hand up in gauze, “Because sacrifices have to be made to move forward. If I didn’t set off those bombs, more girls would go through the same upbringing as you, and who knows? Maybe Dreyko was gonna have his daughter start that training, too, and we just saved her from the horrors of the red-room.”
His rough hands wiped the tears away from her eyes, pulling her into a gentle hug. Taking in a deep breath, she hugged the man tightly and shoved her face into his shoulder. “I know you’re trying to get rid of all this red in your ledger, Nat, but… you’ve already saved so much!” She appreciated his comments but even with all she’s done; it’s still not enough.
Until she finds herself worthy of being free of her ledger, she’s gonna do the most she can do for this world. Letting go of Clint, she felt the blonde boy stiffen from their hug. Pulling back, she turned towards the bathroom window and her eyes widened as she watched police cars swarm the building. “Oh, crap…” Natasha whispered, sharing a glance with Clint. Without even picking up their mess in the bathroom, they grabbed their backpacks and weapons and made their way towards their escape.
Lifting up the floorboard, Natasha quickly dropped down, falling into a spider web. She could hear Clint cracking up from above, but she paid it no mind, pulling out her flashlight and turning it on. “Come on!” She hissed, stepping out of the way so Clint could jump down. Once he had hopped down, he quickly lifted her up and she moved the floorboard back in place – the last of the natural sunlight gone. Clint quickly pulled out his flashlight, turning it on and bending down slightly, (He was internally cursing his tall figure!) Grunting, he gestured for Natasha to lead the way out of the dusty and dirty cellar. “Lead the way, spidey.”
“Don’t ever call me that again.”
“Okay, spidey.”
Rolling her eyes, she continued her journey. After twenty minutes of her walking in boredom, she lost track of however spider webs she saw down here. She knew it was a cellar, but seriously! When was the last time cleaned down here!? Shaking off her thoughts, she tugged her jacket closer around her body as they neared the exit – the loud sound of traffic greeting them. Gesturing for Clint to pick her up, she moved the cover and pulled herself up, holding a hand up to help Clint out. “Jesus, Clint – what the hell did you eat to make you weigh this much?” She grunted out, stumbling back slightly as she pulled her friend up.
He grinned cheekily, a mischievous smile on his face, “I’m a growing boy; I need to eat my food.” He teased. Rolling her eyes, she shoved him playfully as they walked across the street, heading into a clothes store. Grabbing a pair of leggings, a t-shirt, and a coat, she headed into the dressing room, yanking off the tags and throwing them on, putting her old clothes on the hangers that were used to hold the clothes she was wearing, and opened the stall, putting the clothes on a rack and walked out the store, a calm expression on her face. After a few moments, Clint walked out – handing the red-head a brown wig.
Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, she wondered where the hell Clint got the wig from; she didn’t remember seeing any wigs in the store. It was then that her hearing picked up yelling, a woman screaming about her missing wig. Sending him a wide-eyed look, she quickly shoved her hair up into the wig cap and placed the wig on her head, letting Clint adjust it so it looked natural. Walking away from the store calmly, she leaned over and hissed, “Do you just steal a woman’s wig?”
“She’ll be fine; she wasn’t bald!”
Walking out of a cafe with food for Clint and her, Natasha sat down and handed Clint his latte. Taking a small sip from her water bottle, she tilted her sunglasses down and glanced around. It had only been a day since the authorities found them in their room, and they had been on the run ever since. “Did you get into contact with Fury at all?” She asked the deaf archer, who shook his head – a disappointed look on his face.
Letting out a disappointed sigh, Natasha played with her food on her plate – her lips pursed together in frustration. “Daminit, we shouldn’t have forgotten our phones!” God, she was so mad at herself for forgetting something so important! Not only did it have all their contacts on it, but it also had information about the mission on there and many other things! She was also pretty mad about leaving her laptop, but at least it had a self-destroy activation after people got the password wrong so many times, so at least the information was safe on there, (and her illegally downloaded movies)
“When does the train leave?” Clint asked, looking up from her grilled cheese sandwich. Shrugging, she pulled out the tickets and looked them over, “In an hour.” she replied, picking up her fork and stabbing it into her salad, or as Clint liked to lovingly call it, ‘her rabbit food.’
Natasha hasn’t felt this stressed in a while. She had always had smooth-sailing missions and now… this one just went to shit. It kinda made her feel insecure, made her feel as if she couldn’t do anything right. If they had just paid more attention and given themselves a more detailed plan; they wouldn’t be in this stupid mess! And she wouldn’t have to wear this ridiculously long-ass wig! Seriously, she’s eaten this hair more than what’s on her plate in front of her!
Rolling her eyes, she grabbed a hair tie off her wrist and tied the hair back in a low ponytail, brushing the long bangs out of her eyes. She didn’t know why, but… she just had this gut feeling that something was gonna happen. Good or bad, she didn’t know. “Are you sure this contact of yours is trustworthy?” Natasha asked the blonde, who nodded.
“Yeah, he’s trustworthy. All we have to do is get to the meeting spot, and he’ll have a helicopter for us.” He explained, taking a sip from his latte. She trusted Clint, she really did, but… she wasn’t sure about this contact. Her gut was just telling her not to trust this contact, and her gut’s always been right. But, maybe it’s because she’s paranoid? God, she just needed to get over it and deal with it. Glancing into the restaurant, she saw that it was about time for them to leave to be able to make it there in time. Standing up, she grabbed her backpack off the floor and shoved it on her shoulders, adjusting her wig so it didn’t get stuck in the straps.
They quickly cleaned up their mess and threw it into the trashcan, Natasha savoring that last sip of water. Of course, she had water bottles in her backpack but she only had four… Why was she worrying; they would be fine!
They were in fact, not fine. Running from the authorities in the train stations was not fun, especially with the insane amount of people that were around them. “I fucking knew it, Clint! Fuck your bastard of a contact! I’m gonna skin him alive!” Natasha yelled, her eyes narrowed in anger. She was fucking pissed. She should’ve trusted her gut, but noooo~ She trusted Clint’s stupid contact. Her lungs were burning, but she wouldn’t – no, couldn’t stop running. God, where the hell were they gonna hide. Looking around, she looked for any hiding spots. It seems the fates were in her side today as she saw a huge air vent just a few feet in front of them. “Clint!” She hissed, nudging her head towards it. He got the Giff, and using the panicked crowd to their advantage, managed to climb themselves up into the large vent. Leaning as far away from the light as possible, Natasha leaned up head against the metal and took in deep breaths, bringing a hand to her chest.
“Nat?” Clint asked, his voice rough as he took in labored breaths, “You okay?” God, Natasha really wanted to punch him in the face. She didn’t answer, and he must have realized that she was pissed, “I’m so sorry! I–”
Shushing him, she held out a hand – a look of warning on her face, “Clint if you don’t shut up in the next five seconds, I’m gonna push you out of this air vent.” Her voice was scarily calm as she locked eyes with him in the dimly lit vent. He nodded shakingly, a nervous smile on his face.
—----------
DAY ONE IN THE VENT
“Man, I am starving! When we get out of here, we should get McDonald’s AND Burger King!” Clint exclaimed, chewing on one of his arrows. “I mean, I’m so hungry; I am, literally eating my own arrows!”
Raising an eyebrow, Natasha doubted how long she would be able to deal with this. “Clint, we ate an hour ago…” She trailed off, her eyes narrowed as she watched her blonde best friend moan and complain about his stomach growling.
“And it feels like it was a million years ago!”
—-------
DAY THREE IN THE VENT
“Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake baker's man! Bake me a cake as fast as you can. Pat it and prick it and mark it with ‘B’, put it in the oven for baby and me!~” They both clapped their hand together, but at the last minute, Natasha’s hand slipped. “Ha!” Clint pointed at her, a victorious smile on his face, “I win! Suck it, Natasha!”
Growling underneath her breath, she narrowed her eyes and jumped forward, wrapping her hands around his neck. “That’s not fair! I let you continue to play when your hands slip, which might I add – happened so many times! This was the only time my hands slipped!” her face was turning red with how mad she was.
She loved Clint like a brother – she really did. But she swore if she had to spend another moment with him, she was gonna kill herself and him. Gently pushing Natasha off of him, he rolled his eyes and pouted. “Shut up! Now turn around, I have to take a piss.” Rolling her eyes, she turned her back to him and huffed, her lips pursed in annoyance.
—------
DAY FIVE IN THE VENT
“You know, Nat. Whenever I have kids, I really wanna have a daughter and I wanna know how to braid her hair, so–”
Snatching his wrist before it could touch her hair, her eyes narrowed and she murmured in a low, threatening voice, “Don’t even think about it, Clint. I haven’t washed my hair in five days, and I don’t wanna feel your fingers getting all up into my greasy hair!” Seriously, she felt so gross; it wasn’t funny.
He gulped, sending her a nervous smile. “God, you’re scary as hell, Nat! Ow!” He winced, yanking his arm back and holding it to her chest, a pout on his face, “Did you just bite me?”
A feral look was seen in her eyes, “And I’ll do it again! Don’t. Touch. My. Hair.”
—--------
DAY SEVEN IN THE VENT
Laying on their backs, they stared up at the metal ceiling. Suddenly, Natasha winced, holding her stomach in pain – a horrifying feeling consumed her. Turning over on her side, she gave Clint a panicked look, “Clint… I have to do a number two…” His eyes widened, scrambling up. “What do I do? I’ve never been trapped in a freaking vent, and have the need to take a shit!”
“Uh…” He looked through their bags, the vent quickly becoming cramped with how much stuff he was pulling out of their bags, which was mostly weapons and a change of clothes. But, luck seemed to be on his side today as he pulled out a veil from his bag. “Ah-ha! Put this on and you can go take a shit!” He exclaimed, handing the girl the veil and her wig from the stolen lady. “And while you’re at it, you can try and get in contact with fury, and get us some water and snacks.”
She nodded, putting the thing on her face and pressing the activation button. “How do I look?” She asked her friend, who gave her a thumbs up and handed her the wig cap.
“Like a middle-aged mom who hasn’t had a good hour of sleep in years.”
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DAY SEVEN IN THE VENT (AFTER THE POOP)
“We just gotta last three more days and we can leave this hell-hole,” Natasha told the archer, who nodded — a look of relief on his face. “He’ll have the quinjet ready for us by then.” Grabbing the grocery bag, she pulled out two-foot-long sandwiches and put the rest in the small cooler she bought, a couple of apples, chips, and bananas, and a bunch of water bottles and Gatorades. Throwing the archer his sandwich, she opened hers’.
Clint gave her a smile, taking a bite from his sandwich and letting out a moan, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. “Oh, yeah… that hits the spot, Nat.” He spoke with his mouth full, going for another bite before he even swallowed, “I’m never gonna take advantage of food ever again! I’m gonna be so grateful for every piece of food I get, even if it’s avocados.”
Rolling her eyes in amusement, she swallowed before speaking up, “I don’t get what you have against avocados. You love guacamole, but yet you hate avocados; it’s literally the main ingredient!” She waved her hands around to try and make her point. “Hell, there’s even avocados in that sandwich you’re eating–!”
“--WHAT?!” Clint exclaimed, pulling the sandwich away from his face and giving Natasha a look of betrayal, “How… How dare you, Nat? Trick me with this good sandwich! It was such a good sandwich, and you’ve ruined it by telling me it has avocados in it! Thanks, Nat!” He huffed, turning around and holding the sandwich close to his chest.
However, she could see as he slowly lifted the sandwich up and took a bite out of it. He quietly moaned, to try and cover it up but Natasha simply rolled her eyes, taking a bit out of her turkey sandwich.
He was just so childish sometimes… And to think, she’s the younger one of the two.
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DAY NINE IN THE VENT
“Nat, who’s hotter? Winona Ryder or Christan Slater?” Clint asked, kicking his legs back and forth as he propped himself up on his stomach. She hummed, picking the black nail polish off her nails, and thought about it for a moment. “Winona. I mean, have you seen her in Beetlejuice? She could step on me, and I’d say thank you.” She never thought she’d be talking about her celebrity crush with her best friend in a stuffy air-vent, but here she was.
Clint hummed, nodding slightly, “Personally, I would let Christan Slater rail me, but that’s a good point, Natasha. That was one of her best looks – Period.” He replied. Natasha grimaced as he thought about her brother having sex, and shuddered, trying to imagine anything else.
Letting out a sigh of boredom, she grimaced at the feeling of grease in her scalp.
As soon as she got out of here, she was gonna take so many showers.
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BACK IN THE STATES
After finally getting the shower she desperately needed, she knocked on the door to Fury’s office, waiting for the man to give her to the go-to come in. “Enter!” Fury shouted, and she opened the door, walking over to his and dropping off her paperwork to him. “Agent Romanoff, how was your mission?”
Raising an eyebrow, a look of ‘are you serious’ on her face, she deadpanned, “Shit.” He chuckled, shaking his head and grabbing the paperwork from her, flipping open the files and started glancing through them, “I swear if you send me on another mission where I don’t get to shower for ten days, and have to pen in a fucking water bottle, I will make you permanently blind in both eyes.”
She was serious, but she had a feeling Fury thought she was joking. “Well, Romanoff, since you’re going back to school soon, I won’t be sending you and barton on too many missions. Consider yourself lucky. You’re dismissed.” Waving her off, she stood up and turned around, walking towards the exit.
However, before she left, she turned around and told him softly, “Thank you… for, uh… letting me take down Dreyko, sir.” He looked up from his paperwork, raising an eyebrow.
“Romanoff, I didn’t give you that mission so you get can your revenge. I gave you that mission because he was a dangerous man, and needed to be taken out. I just sent my best agents, and if you weren’t here; I would’ve sent someone else.” and with that, he looked back down at her files.
Clenching her jaw, she took in a deep breath and walked out of his office – agents of all time moving out of the way for her. She respected Fury, she truly did! But, man… sometimes she just wanted to beat the shit out of the guy.