"Aren't assassins supposed to be quiet?" I sighed. Clearly aware she was right behind me. That went smoothly Barton. Genius.
"No, they're supposed to be invisible and silent, which makes me question exactly what and who you are. Kak, naprimer durak sdelat' eto tak daleko? (Let me translate that for you. She pretty much just asked how an idiot like me made it this far). Because clearly neither of these applies to you," a sarcastic female voice replied. It was barely a whisper, but I had been following that whisper long enough I could hear it from a mile and a half away.
"Usually I am, but obviously I was a little off my game this time," I snarked back. Why I was being sarcastic I had no idea. Just felt like my best go at the moment.
"I am insulted. Why let your game down? Am I weak prey to you? Did you not know I am a world renowned assassin? Or was your informant lacking as well?" too coy… she was clearly looking to get me to slip up about SHIELD. Silly girlie, I have played this game a couple times too.
"If you are looking for a hiring agent or assistant of some sort you are digging a hole in an empty field. I do all my own research and even if you tried you couldn't get me to talk about my boss. I would rather face you, than his… Fury," I said lazily as I began moving my bow back from the window. Might as well face her than her decoy.
"Ah Ah, put that bow away. You won't like the consequences if you don't," she warned. For some silly reason I just coolly kept moving. Almost like I thought me remaining totally chill would off set her. Sometimes I really am a durak (fool).
"Or what? You'll shoot me? That would be the," I counted on my fingers to be blunt to her, it had nothing to do with me actually needing to count, "sixth time this year. It doesn't scare me that much anymore. You been shot once, you been shot a billion times," I remarked.
"Plus, why should I? You dodged my shot yesterday with such ease, why not twice just to show off?" I taunted and could almost see her freeze for a second. So she didn't know it was me who shot the arrow last night. Maybe I actually did graze her.
"Because I do not want to waste the energy and effort uselessly," came a short reply.
"Ah,"
The ensuing silence seemed to last ages before she finally replied.
"Well, shall we get this over with Mr. Barton?" she said. I sensed absolutely no emotion. She was totally business now.
"I'd rather continue on with our awkward banter and silences but if you insist…" I knew from that moment on that this fight was going to seriously hurt. How had I gotten myself this far in over my head?
Typical Clint Barton moment.
"As do I, but I am afraid we have run out of time. I have a job to finish and you have a hospital to visit," and with that reply she was no longer even business, just, dead gone empty words. An act meant to subdue me before she strikes. Just like with a proper black widow.
I immediately went into defensive and managed to dodge the foot aimed at the left side of my temple. I flipped around just in time to catch the sliver of darker black dart off to my right. I centered in and found that black again and loosed the arrow just in time to catch the black before the fist collided with my chin. I took the hit as well as I could and found it was slightly shocking. She hit hard for being so small. Go figure.
I blocked just in time to catch the foot to my ribs and bow down before the jab to my face. She was so freaking fast! Suddenly she was on top of me pounding down on my ribs and face. I couldn't protect both and both hurt like hell to not cover. She hit with such a brute force but no matter how hard I fought she would always land just about every other hit on me. Despite how hard she could hit it was balanced by such a profound grace. Her movements were smooth and graceful but carried this untapped ferocity. It actually sort of scared me. Only sort of.
I waited for her to hit to my right and quickly threw myself up onto my feet knocking her back down. She was light weight. I was built like a freaking brick house. She could hit me all day with her little fists and I would still stand up. Mostly, at least I was able to stand up enough to catch her with my left foot to her ribs and a jab to the nose before she disappeared on me again.
I may have had taken quite the beating but I knew I had hit her good and hard at least once. I may not be graceful but I hit like a freaking sledge hammer. I know I had hit her once on her left shoulder then her right collar bone, soon after the left knee and her jaw. Add the two hits when I knocked her down and I knew at the least she wasn't feeling all warm and fuzzy.
Then I messed up, really, really messed up bad.
I went in for a strike to the left shoulder again and immediately knew it was a serious mistake. The second her small white hand found my elbow I knew I was done. I felt the crack as she simultaneously fractured my elbow and dislocated my shoulder. Not a second later her knee connected with mine and the sickening pop and tearing sound that followed told me it was torn and dislocated. A blow to the left side of my head and I was down on the ground. I found myself instantly and completely immobilized the whole right side of my body. I was dazed by the hit to my temple and in a lot of pain. I couldn't see very clearly nor could I move either of my right limbs. Not at all, which told me she also dislocated my right leg from it's socket. Well, that hadn't gone as planned now had it?
I did a quick over view of all the damage done. My right shoulder, knee, and hip were officially dislocated. My right elbow and collar bone were fractured and the knee had broken the skin and was bleeding profusely. My ACL and PCL were definitely shot and I was sure I had a concussion from the blow she landed to my head. Even though I was dazed I knew I had to focus. I needed to survive right now. I couldn't fight which meant I needed to just get out alive. I tried as hard as I could to focus in on that separate darker kind of black one more time. I caught a shift to my left. Then it centered in what I perceived as the center of my view. It was a little bouncy and had a clear limp which meant I had caught her good at least once. Suddenly the figure jerked quick to my right. The world slowed and I felt her speed as she launched forward towards me despite how I couldn't see her. I bent my good knee and leaned in towards my right now matter how much it hurt. I pushed off as hard as my body could and felt myself spin. The kick would have landed right in the middle of her stomach. I sensed her stutter for just a moment before her tiny hands of doom found my good ankle midair. She used my forward momentum to throw me into the nearest wall. I was surprised. She clearly had not expected that last attack, but was quick enough in mind and in body to counter it. My face hit the wall first. Then the rest of my damaged side connected.
To the end of my days I swore nothing would ever hurt that bad.
I instantly fell on to my belly and despite my efforts to raise my body even on my good side I could not even manage to get off the ground. I was also now unable to see out of my right eye and clearly at least one rib was fractured of completely broken.
"I… refuse… to lay down… to a-… anyone… I… am… th… I… shield…" and now I was spilling nonsense. Wonderful. I used my left wrist to hold my head up high enough to look and see if I could spot my oncoming doom.
That was when she grabbed me by my chin (my chin folks. Ever been picked up by your chin? It sucks. Let me tell you.) and slammed me, once again, into the wall, this time with her face right in front of mine.
"No one has ever gotten the drop on me. Not. Ever," there was only vicious hatred in her voice now. No play, no business, no emptiness, only anger, sheer ravaging anger.
And it was her anger that made me meet her eyes. The first thing I noticed was the firey red hair. It was like waves of rose petals drifting off of her face. Clearly my trip to japan last month was still affecting me. Her skin was white as a sheet and clean as porcelain. But her eyes. Her eyes held no curiosity, warmth or memories. They were such a beautiful shade of green brown. Like the moss back home. They were as wondrous as the shells on a beach, but just as lifeless and thrown away. Even shells told more stories and sang happier songs than these eyes.
I felt cold metal drift over my skin but didn't care to look down. I knew it was a blade. It didn't even matter what kind. I just kept watching those eyes. We're they really so dead? Or did they have a story held in there somewhere?
"What a way to go eh? I figured it would be at home in bed with the wife. But go figure it's completely alone in an empty room with a stranger and a knife. We all have to go at some point don't we?" I sighed out. My head hung down and my chin relaxed down on to the flat of the blade.
Her expression never lost its' fury. I felt a drop on my broken collar bone and immediately knew it was blood. Whether it was from the knife at my throat or one of the many injuries I had sustained I knew it was bad news. When I looked up at her again I knew where the drop had come from. It was the blade. And she hadn't even faltered, sign of a true pure blooded killer. I felt kind of honoured.
Only kind of though.
I felt her hand grasping and squeezing at my chin. With my good left hand I reached up and grabbed her wrist. She didn't even startle.
"Just do it quickly okay?" I asked.
"Why?" she replied sharply.
"Because I want to have a clean cut so when they have my funeral it can be an open casket. I want the kids back in my home town to see their hero. I was hoping to tell them I died of old age but right about now dying to protect them will have to do. I wouldn't want to crush their little hopes and dreams," I replied softly.
"It's because of dreamers like them that "heroes" like you die," she snarls. It sounds almost feral. Was that a soft spot?
"And it's because of dreamers like them that we live too," I respond dreamily. I was feeling rather tired.
"Well today, they were the reason the hero died,"
Light burst from the back of my mind. It was followed instantly by an eternal blackness.
"This is how a hero dies. Alone, with no one to save you. Does that really mean you were even a hero at all?" The voice echoed around in my mind as I felt consciousness fading away. There was a moment when I could see my wife and kids. I wanted to say I was sorry. Sorry for failing to come home this time. I felt the last of me fade away with the hope that I had been a good enough hero for them while I could.
