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Hawkeye… The name had been whispered amongst the lines of the KGB several times during her years there. A sharpshooter with an unconventional weapon working for the Americas… If they could only get a hold of him, mold him to their ways, he would make an excellent soldier.
The Black Widow knew it was him the second she spotted the purple fletchings on the arrows impaled in the wall at her hide out. The apartment she had hijacked as the drugs surged through her veins. Of all the people who could have found her here in Budapest he was one of the better options. Someone she could grasp; someone she could fight if only her vision wouldn’t blur the second she tried to lift her head or even attempt to get up.
If this was how Natalia was going to die, she supposed there were worse ways… It was better then being back in that hell hole, back on that chair, back at the place she grew up, working for a regime that tried to hang on to the shreds of its former glory. They had stripped her of her will once, but Natalia wouldn’t let them do it again.
There was a thud above, steps of booted feet that tried to never make a sound, but her ears were trained, her instincts sharp and her muscle memory intact even when her brain was fogged over.
“Fuck.” The Black Widow hissed as she inhaled sharply, rolling off the musty sofa she had been resting on, her feet held her for a second, then she crashed to the floor. Memories wracked her brain unsure of what was real or what had been made up and instilled into her brain. Telling which way was up got harder and harder these days.
String stretched, not too far from here. An arrow knocked. Hawkeye had come to collect her. Her hand slammed against the nightstand, her body dropped and rolled as the window above her head crashed and a something slammed into the wall behind her.
“Well… if the hawk wants to play.”
A knife in her boot, a gun on her hips. It would have to do. There was still time, there was still fight left in her… She wasn’t ready to forfit her life just yet, but when Natalia tried to rise to her feet pain shot through her head. Her vision blurred and another memory came calling.
Girls in short skirts and black tops. They wore white ballet shoes, spinning, floating over the ground as they moved through their routine.
Another thud. Closer now, Hawkeye was inside her safe house. The Widow waited, praying for her head to clear. She just needed a window, a chance and then to run. The steps came closer, ever closer. Her breath stilled, held inside her lungs as her fingers reached for her knife. One heartbeat, then another, then she saw a shadow.
The Widow rose, burying the knife inside his upper leg. The Hawk yelled out in surprise and pain.
“The hell?!” He jumped, rolling sideways away from his attacker, arrow knocked, stumbling in the darkness.
Natalia rolled up, muscles acting on her own accord. She stumbled sideways against the doorframe, as an arrow graced her side, ripping fabric and nicking her skin.
“Not so fast little spider. The next one will land true.”
“Looks like you have to be quicker, Hawk.” Natalia grunted, then jumped.
She crashed through the window out onto the street… the streetlight burned in her eyes as she blinked, trying to shake another on coming memory unaware if it’s truth or lie. Run was all she could.
Fast and as far away as possible. Natalia had always been quick on her feet. Running came easy to her. Running protected her during her trials, it kept her alive. Running and hiding. She had always been a small thing, skinny and scrawny, fitting into the tightest of places, even now as her body had grown, filled out, gained muscles and a smooth, effortless grace.
The Widow stumbled, falling onto the next part of the roof, another dip and she could see the market plaza of Budapest. She would be able to get lost there, hide, shed her skin again and find a new cover.
“You know you can’t run! Not in this state!” The hawks voice called after her. It was younger then she expected, softer. There was a quiver. Doubt? Maybe, but why doubt. They had sent him to kill her. He shouldn’t doubt his orders… doubt your orders and you’re dead.
Natalia reached for her gun. Another arrow loosened impaling into the wall beside her. Like on autopilot she raised her hand, hands curling around the handle of the gun, thumb slipping off the security, shoulders locked, arms straight, breath and she fired. The bullet hitting the opposite wall next to the archer’s head.
More pain shot through her head. Another memory rushing in behind her eyes.
The Widow stumbled backwards, jumping the gap between her roof and the next. She had to get away from him, leave before he had the chance to knock another arrow. Hawkeye didn’t miss. That was a fact, well known in her line of work. Her shot had distracted him for just a heartbeat, but she couldn’t throw him off balance forever.
“Not now… not now!” Natalia prayed to a force in the universe she didn’t believe in. Her eyes squeezed shut. Her breath quickened, two more steps… she could reach the wall, climb up, jump down, get away. Pain erupted in her shoulder. The arrow piercing through it and impaling her into the wall behind her.
Natalia grunted, jerking her shoulder. The arrow didn’t budge.
“Nowhere to run now little widow… Uff, give me a moment. You’re pretty quick. Nearly lost me back there. Sorry, spiked arrow that thing won’t budge until I deactivate it.” Hawkeye said casually, huffing as he tried to catch his breath, a profound limp in his left leg.
Her lips were sealed, however, simply watching as the man sighed, dug his hand through already messy hair and pulled another arrow, directed at her. Teal eyes met sky blue ones.
“Aren’t you a little young to be a world feared assassin? I was seriously surprised.” He mused and Natalia simply rolled her eyes.
“Aren’t you a little too rough to be a world class sharpshooter?” She countered, dryly. “They sent you to kill me.” Her words came out in perfect English.
This seemed to take him by surprise. He nodded.
“Yes.”
“Who are they?”
No answer. Clint simply knocked another, purple arrow and trained the tip on her head, then her heart, but his eyes wavered. Something held him back.
“Do it! What are you waiting for? If they sent you to kill me then why wait. The longer you wait the more chances I have to escape.”
“And what then? Where would you go. There is no place left for you to hide.” He lowered the arrow again.
“How about I loosen this arrow, you don’t try to murder me and we have a little chat about the people you are actually running from… After you’ve slept off whatever they gave you. Seriously, I thought I had the wrong woman. You wouldn’t have missed the show otherwise. I’m Clint by the way.”
Natalia snorted. “Seriously? Clint?”
“Yeah, yeah. Bite me widow. Leave it to people like you to joke about the man whose mercy you’re at. You know what? I think we’ll get along just fine.”