Being on an elite team where everyone knew their roles was great, but when your enemies knew you as well as you did yourselves, sometimes it meant having to push yourself outside of your comfort zone. This time Clint was the one bound to a chair, waiting for the target to tell him how weak he was, how pathetic, and how unstoppable was her perfect plan.
The tight restraints dug into his arms but he forced back the panic, remembering Natasha’s cool calm, perfect nails tapping against the sniper rifle. “Don’t worry,” she’d said. “I’ll have my eye on you.”