Red. All she could see was red. The walls were red, the sky was red. All she could feel was the heat, pressing in on her, choking her. She heard a scream.
"MA!"
"Talia! Run! Get help!"
She turned, and ran towards the door. Kicking it open, her bare feet slapped the hot ground as she raced down the smoking corridor and down the stairs. Every step she took seared into her muscles, every breath burned her lungs, but she couldn't stop. Out onto the street she burst, screaming for anyone, but no one was there. At the end of the street, under a dimly slit streetlight, a dark figure stood.
"Sir! Please sir! My ma, she's still in the house, please sir. Sir, PLEASE!"
Gasping, she ran up to the man, begging him to help her. The figure turned slowly towards her.
"Please! She'll die if you don't help me! Please, PLEASE!"
"Natasha."
She froze. The dark figure looked up.
"How nice for you to drop in."
Clint.
Suddenly, everything changed. They were in the engine room. Her hands were covered in blood, the walk way was smeared with red. Along the sides, dead bodies lay littered, gushing wounds, empty eyes, the occasional cry. She looked around in horror. Clint stood at the end.
"Look at the red, Tasha. No matter what you do, you'll never be able to wipe it out."
Her hand went to the holster strapped to her side, her eyes getting darker.
"Don't even try. Do you remember the last time you underestimated someone else?"
Clint smirked, looking down at one of the bodies. A woman, her eyes glassy and face marred by burns. Her skin was red and stretched, her legs in crooked angles. Her hair was the ghost of a rich red, the same as Natasha's.
Ma.
Something snapped in the female assassin. A loud sound erupted from her mouth as she charged at Clint. He easily side-stepped her first punch, blocked the second blow. No matter what she did, he was always one step ahead. As she continued to attack, he laughed coldly, like she was just a pathetic bug. Suddenly, she remembered the gun on her side. Her hand reached for it, but Clint, seeing her movement, looped his leg around, kicking her in the back of her legs, causing her knees to give in. She collapsed into a fetal kneeling position in front of him. The sound of a bow being drawn.
"Look at me, Natasha. I want to see the life leave your eyes."
Natasha started at his shoes, ignoring his words. Clucking his tongue, her head suddenly snapped up, his cold fingers under her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. They were the normal colour. No Loki. The arrow left his bow.
Natasha Romanoff bolted out of her tangled sheets. A layer of sweat covered her forehead, her pillow slightly damp. She placed a hand to her racing heart as she groped for the digital clock on the bedside table. 6:03. Rubbing her arms, she slid out of her tangled sheets, and headed for the bathroom. She all but collapsed in front of the mirror, using the sink to support her heaving body. Breathing hard, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, her eyes bloodshot, dark purple bags under her eyes.
Dammit Loki...
She stripped and stepped into the shower, closing her eyes as the jets of water massaged her aching body. Her muscles groaned and her head was hammering. She hadn't had a proper night's sleep since Loki.
Dammit Loki.
Drying herself off, she pulled on a tank top and yoga pants. The phone on her bedside table rang. JARVIS' voice spoke though the intercom.
"Ms. Romanoff, is on line 1."
"Thanks JARVIS, I got it."
"What do you want Stark."
The overly cheerful voice of Tony Stark chirped through the phone.
"Why good morning to you too, itsy bitsy spider!"
"Listen, I can think of 6 ways to torture you using a fork and a roll of tape. Get to the point."
"Touchy touchy. I'm calling because the lovely has made us breakfast, and I expect you all the show up. By you all, I mainly mean you."
"Stark..."
"No, don't you 'Stark...' me. My building, my rules."
The line went dead, and Natasha slammed the phone down. Damn. S.H.I.E.L.D had been in a flurry to figure out how to communicate the Avengers incase something went wrong, with Bruce planning to fly out to India to help in a rural hospital, Thor back to Asgard, Steve planning to move back to Brooklyn. Natasha and Clint were still working for S.H.I.E.L.D, so tabs could be kept on them, but with their missions, the bases they returned to were constantly changing and uncertain. Tony Stark had solved the problem by offering up Stark Towers as a base, claiming that the battle had blown off all the letters but the letter A, and that maybe it was a "sign from a god that we were meant to be." To which Steve had responded, '"Listen, there's only one God, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't work that way."
So Stark opened up 6 floors, including their own rooms, an entire floor dedicated to the latest training equipment, a place for R&R, a laboratory for Banner. Natasha had been sent on a mission 3 days after the invasion, and had arrived 2 days ago. She had taken to staying in her room and avoiding group meals and 'bonding.' But she supposed it wouldn't hurt to go for one meal, as long as Stark didn't try poisoning her, God knows if Pepper can really cook or Stark was just trying to get laid tonight. Honestly, a hot meal sounded nice, but that would mean...
Dammit Loki.
Clint stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He wiped the steam off his mirror and stared at his reflection. His face was gaunt and pale, the bags under his eyes more prominent than ever. His chest heaved as he took a couple deep breaths to slow his heart beat. Ever since Loki had gotten into his mind, it was like his mind was a stranger, mainly at night. When he slept, his dreams were full of red and black, he kept watching Natasha's eyes, wide and glassy, feeling her breath leave body, hearing the scream as his arrow entered her heart. So he stayed awake. Coffee cups and empty mint boxes piled up in his room. There was almost a hole on his floor, from his constant pacing to keep from nodding off. It was torturing his body, but he just couldn't stand watching Natasha die, over and over again.
A loud knocking pulled him out of his stupor, followed by a slight clicking noise. A pair of footsteps sounded across his room, followed by a rattling noise. Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open, revealing a woman in tights and tank top, her red hair curled behind her ears. She leaned against the door frame, a look of amusement crossing her face as she looked at Clint in nothing but a wet towel, dripping.
"Why come on in, Natasha, I'm not busy and totally dressed appropriately right now!"
Ignoring his statement, she nodded towards the phone next to his bed.
"Stark call you about Pepper making breakfast?"
Shaking his head, he picked up his clothes and walked out the bathroom door, Natasha turning as he walked by. Throwing his clothes onto the bed, he waved his hand in a rotating motion, gesturing at her to turn around so he could dress. Rolling eyes, she walked to the window, taking up an entire wall.
"You know Clint, it's not like I haven't seen you naked before. There was that time in India where you got bitten by that snake and I had to..."
"Okay! Wow, did not need that image in my head this early in the morning!"
"Please, your mind is already in the gutter..."
"And how do you think it got there? So, how was the mission?"
He heard her move across the room to sit in the armchair as he pulled on a shirt.
"Horrible. S.H.I.E.L.D's been tracking the guy for months. Finally got him cornered at some charity ball. They needed my legs, not me. Got him down in about 3 hours."
"And it was horrible because...?"
"Our new handler seems to think that just because I'm a woman means I have the IQ of a rabbit, and the urge to produce like a rabbit, it seems."
"You tell Fury about him?"
"Heck no. Fury's already waist deep in complaints form the council because of the Avengers. We're not even supposed to exist. Last thing he needs is to find us a new handler."
Clint turned to Natasha, a look of confusion on his face.
"You're going to let this go? Seriously? Wait...don't tell me...is he hot?"
Natasha stared at him with a look that said ' are you seriously my partner.'
"Yes, Clint. Yes he is. And I am totally going to hook up with him. Tonight. In fact, why don't we go print off posters and flyers?"
The sarcasm dripping from her words made him laugh.
"Come on, spiderwoman, let's go get some of Pepper's 'world class' poison, I mean cooking, before we track down this new handler of ours."
.