Chapter 3
“-and then Cap smashed the shield into the robot’s neck, and the entire swarm of them just collapsed!” Clint exclaimed, laughing uncontrollably. Kate rolled her eyes at his exuberance but had to crack a smile at his infectious laughter. Lucky panted up at them excitedly, feeding off of Clint’s happiness.
“You are such an idiot,” Kate complained, tugging on Lucky’s leash so they could pass Clint by. Clint was still doubled over half a street back, laughing so hard he was crying. When he noticed Kate had left him behind, he straightened up and ran after her, complaining the entire way.
“Kate! I’m hilarious, what are you talking about? I have stories for everything. Ugh, stop walking so fast, I hate running. Cardio is such a bitch.” Kate was just about to throw another goading jab over her shoulder when she saw a familiar group of matching tracksuit-wearing Russians hovering on the corner ahead of them. She froze, Lucky tugging against his leash for a moment until he realized she wasn’t moving anymore, and Clint finally caught up with her, laughing in her ear even as she stared down the Tracksuit Mafia.
“We’ve got company,” Kate revealed, cutting Clint’s tirade off before he could really get going. His mouth snapped shut, his sharp eyes flicking around their surroundings before he caught sight of them, too. There was an instant shift in his stature, back straight and face fierce as he placed himself between Kate and the threat.
The Russians had caught sight of them by then, and were obviously making their way steadily closer. They had been a steady pain in Clint’s ass ever since he had moved into his apartment building; they had tried hiking up the rent to force the tenants out, but Clint had put a stop to that as quick as he could. If that hadn’t been enough for them to hate Clint’s guts, he had taken their dog after he had been thrown into traffic and left for dead. Clint couldn’t stand people that hurt other people, or dogs.
So, needless to say, the Tracksuit Mafia and Clint Barton did not see eye to eye.
“Bro!” one of them shouted, still half a street away. “That’s my dog, bro!” Clint rolled his eyes, turning to meet Kate’s glare.
“Did you happen to bring any weapons with you?” he asked, patting his own pockets but knowing he wouldn’t be finding anything. She shook her head, face set in a grimace as the Russians got closer and closer. Lucky growled low in his throat, recognizing them as they tried to circle Clint and Kate.
Clint reached out and pointed Kate in the direction of the apartment building the moment he saw one of the Russians pull a gun from his waistband. “Kate, run!” They turned as one and pelted off down the sidewalk, Lucky bounding at their side.
“Bro! You can’t run away, bro!”
They heard the gun cock behind their backs and Clint started cursing loud and hard. Kate added a bit more speed to her run and tugged Lucky along with her. She didn’t need any extra holes in her body, thanks.
Sadly, she wasn’t fast enough.
She went down hard when a bullet hit her in the arm. It hadn’t hit the meat of her arm, thank God, but it did sting like hell. Really, it was just a scratch, but the fear skating through her veins that she could have just died had the bullet hit just a few inches to the right and that thought had her shaking and wide-eyed.
“Katie!” Clint shouted, fear and anger fighting for dominance on his face as he watched her hit the ground. She lay there in shock, watching his reaction through a haze. He made sure she wasn’t immediately dying before turning his fury onto the Tracksuit Mafia, practically snarling in their faces.
“Did you just shoot at us?” Clint asked, voice icy and hard. “Did you just shoot my kid?” The Russians froze, faces pale and eyes wide. The one with the gun tried to hide behind the others.
“Uh, bro,” one of them whined, backing away as much as possible. Clint wasn’t letting them go, though.
“Nuh-uh,” Clint warned, stalking forward. He wasn’t afraid of the gun, or having to fight off four men by himself. These people had hurt Kate and that was not okay. Clint’s hands were fisted at his sides and the Russians watched them apprehensively. They knew he was an Avenger, and an Avenger wouldn’t really hurt them, right? That went against the Superhero Code or something, right? “I’m not done here,” Clint admitted, glaring at the one that had shot Kate, dragging him closer by the neck of his shirt.
He ripped the gun from the man’s hands and growled. “No more of this,” he warned, before shoving the man away angrily. He landed on his ass, staring up at his friends for any type of support, but they were watching Clint fiddling with the gun instead. Clint cocked the gun, raising it to aim right back at them, and let off a shot just two inches shy of the sprawled out man’s crotch.
That had the Russians running almost immediately.
They hustled to their feet, scrambling away from Clint now that he was the one with a weapon on them. “We’ll be back, bro!”
“For the dog and the building, bro!” another shouted as they turned the corner.
Clint made sure they were really gone before he turned, chucking the gun into a garbage bin and kneeling down beside Kate. She was holding her arm and scowling after the Russians. Clint started humming over her injury, face scrunched up in dismay as he poked and prodded. Lucky noticed their distress, licking at Kate’s cheek before hopping forward to nudge at Clint’s chin.
“You alright, kid?” Clint asked, nudging her hand further out of the way and hiking her sleeve up so he could see the damage clearer.
“I’m fine,” she complained, waving her arm around to show just how fine she really was. She grimaced at the tug on her sliced skin, but kept a stoic face as she stumbled to her feet. Clint was at her side in a second, wrapping an arm around her waist in case she fell.
Kate was a strong, independent young woman but she was also just a teenager, and she had just had a very big scare. She clung to Clint’s arm, breathing a sigh of relief as she listened to him fret over her with real worry and care.
“Come on, let’s get you upstairs. Lucky, go on.” Lucky ran ahead of them, nudging the door open for them and bounding up the stairs while they struggled up the steps themselves.
Once they were safely ensconced in their apartment, Clint got Kate settled on the sofa before going off to search for the first aid kit. When he returned a few minutes later, Kate was still on the sofa looking pale and dazed while staring blankly at the floor. She was holding her hand tight against the red fabric on her shirt, her arm cradled in her lap.
“Hey, kiddo,” Clint said softly, kneeling down in front of her. He met her eyes, trying to bring her back to the present, and sighed in relief when she cracked a tiny smile his way. “Let’s take a look, hmm?”
He tugged the wet fabric away and started disinfecting the wound; it really was more of a scratch than anything, but it made Clint feel better to be able to do something about it. As he tied the bandage off around her arm, Kate shocked him by leaning forward, burrowing into his neck and squeezing her arms tight around his neck.
Her breath was shaky, coming out in soft, short huffs. Clint didn’t hesitate to reach up and pull her closer, rubbing her back and burying his own face in her long black hair.
It had been frightening, seeing that gun pointed at Kate and knowing the Russian was going to pull the trigger. He had seen the bullet soar through the air and nearly hit her full on and his heart had stopped. What if he had lost Kate? What would he do then?
“I’m sorry, Kate. I should have been paying more attention. Or been better prepared. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be an idiot. I’m fine,” she huffed, pulling away to give him an indignant look. “I’m fine. Really. Nothing serious happened, and we’ll be better prepared next time. Don’t freak out about it.”
Clint gave her a weak smile in return, shaking his head in fond exasperation. “Sorry, Katie-Kate. It’s my job, you know?” He stood, ruffling her hair, and quickly hopped out of her reach as she lunged for him.
“Stay on the couch. I’ll order pizza and we’ll have a movie night. Go on,” he waved, walking into the kitchen to order their dinner.
Kate leaned back into the couch, feeling her adrenaline slowly drain from her bloodstream. Lucky hopped up beside her, sprawling out across her lap and snuggling into her stomach with a content little sigh. She threaded her fingers through his fur and watch Clint flit around the kitchen, probably making her hot cocoa or something else warm because he was a ridiculous mother hen whenever she got hurt.
True enough, he came back a few minutes later and shoved a hot mug into her hands before plopping down next to her, dragging her into his side with his arm wrapped comfortably around her shoulders.
“I’m glad you’re okay, hun,” he said quietly, running his thumb up and down her shoulder, squeezing tight. “I kinda like having you around, you know. The place would be pretty boring without you hanging out.”
He was staring at the blank television when Kate twisted to scrutinize his face. “You’re such a sap,” she decided, rolling her eyes and burrowing closer once more. With a sigh, she punched him in the chest before whispering quietly, “But I guess you’re my sap, so it’s fine. Whatever.”
Clint snorted and rolled his eyes but didn’t say a word. They sat in silence together until the pizza arrived. Clint hopped up and immediately began filling the silence with nonsense and babble until Kate started the next episode of Dog Cops and Clint had to shut up.
It was probably one of the best nights of Kate’s life.