NEW STORY!
Thank you to ComicBookHappySquared for the request. Looking forward to this one :) First full Natasha story for me, so, be kind my dears!
Disclaimer! Ah, my old friend, how are you? Missed ya! I disclaim everything, even the idea for this!
'If he whistles that damn song one more time..'
'Oh, come on Stark! You know how much you love One Direction!'
'How do you even know about them, Barton!?'
"He has a daughter; if he didn't know about them then I'd be worried!" She chimed in with a slight laugh over the comms. It was always like this, those two arguing, but it made missions a little easier!
'Kate is not my daughter! And she kills me for whistling it too!'
"Whatever, Hawkdude!"
'Bite me, Widow!'
'Now now, kids. Play nice.'
'You're right, Cap! How about a bit of Star Spangled Man!?'
'Barton..' Steve actually growled! That's new!
'Who'll rise or fall, give his all, for America!?~'
She had to laugh, despite the whole situation, as Clint ignored Steve's warning voice completely.
She didn't know when this happened, when this easiness fell amongst the group and they could actually risk missions by just joking through the comms. But lately Avenger's missions just seemed to roll like this, no seriousness, just a set mission plan and everyone gets on with it. It was comfortable, it was relaxed, it was what Natasha Romanoff loved.
This was just another day in the office as far as they were concerned! Sceptre was retrieved, everything should be doing just fine, they fended off a robot army with little problems, but the fact still remained; Hydra remained. Thor, being the noble Asgardian Prince he is, stayed around to help the team rid the world of this faction once and for all.
Easier said than done.
Somehow, when they took out one base, they'd learn about three or four others from Fury that needed tending to. They could do this sort of thing in their sleep at this stage. All the bases were designed bad; they all held the exact same layout with the exact same purpose to each section and room. Eventually she guessed it was so if one idiot was transferred from another base, he wouldn't have to be shown around and babied until he knew the way to everything. It made their lives easier, sure. But it made the Avengers life much much simpler!
'Status reports before I send my shield up Barton's ass.'
'Zone 3 cleared.' Thor boomed over first. He never really joked around like the others. He did while relaxing, but on a mission, he was always set in his way of getting the job done before fun and games could be had.
'Zone 1 nearly. Had to stop off to help out lovely personal singer get out of a little tricky situation.' Tony next, followed by a scoff from Barton.
'You just flew by and hit me in the back of the head! How was that helping me!?'
'Helping the team as a whole! Shut you up for a while!'
'Whatever, tin head. Zone 2 is a main hallway, clearing it as the bastards arrive.' Clint may have been a messer, but when he had to his mission mode could switch in easily, like when giving reports.
"Nearly there." Natasha commented last, casually talking to her team through the comms as she took down some guards in her area. She had only arrived, being given the furthest zone because she wanted a bit of a challenge today and the furthest always had the most goons!
She slid past three men as they aim their weapons, rising slightly in her trademark pose before using her bites to send electric pulses through the men and render them unconscious. Her senses told here there was someone advancing from behind, trying to get the drop on her. She closed her eyes and listened, waiting for the footsteps to be close before spinning a leg behind her to take the guard off his feet. Once a solid thwack let her know that he was on his back, she jumped up and walked over above him, grabbing her gun from her holster then to send a single bullet into his shoulder. Not to kill, enough to knock him out. Clint wouldn't be impressed if she killed someone, even Hydra. Besides, they were under strict orders to capture and interrogate.
'Tick tock.'
"Oh fuck you, Clint." Natasha laughed, shaking her head a little before continuing down the hallway. A trail of about 50 guards lay in the hallway behind her. "Zone 5 cleared."
'Good. Main room is yours and Hawk's then. We'll get through this cleaned up and meet you at the jet.'
'Roger that, Cap! On my way to you, Nat.'
"Can't wait." Natasha replied as she started jogging her way to the main room of the base, her tone just dripping with sarcasm. Herself and Clint were the closest to it, and honestly she was convinced Steve trusted them more than the others recently. She glanced up when an arrow was thrown her way, not fired so it just bounced harmlessly off her head.
She grinned when she saw her partner wink at her from the rafters on the upper level and pick up pace.
Game on, Barton.
She picked up her pace along with him, easily weaving her way through the twist and turns of the base to make her way to the main corridor and room. The heads of the base were always held up there during attacks. Varied in amount, sometimes it was one, one time there were nine of them all sitting in the room sipping on some scotch. It always annoyed her how casually they took their attacks and how willing they were to send the ones who worked for them to their deaths without batting an eyelash.
'Natasha Romanoff, are you smiling down there?'
"Enjoying this base more than the others." She laughed, glancing up to see Clint a little behind her.
She skidded to a stop a bit away from the main door. Sure, it was a bit of fun and games when they had a chance to play around, but they couldn't really make too much sound near the door and alert them to an attack. Half a second later, Clint dropped from the upper levels and landed soundlessly beside her. Years of training on his part made it so he could move like a ghost, even leaping from nearly ten feet above.
"What do you think?" He whispered once the pair hunkered down. He had an arrow gently nocked, ready to pull back at the slightest hint of an enemy attack.
"It'll be locked." She said carefully, watching the door to the main room with slightly slitted eyes. It was dark down here, meaning that guards had definitely abandoned their post here. "If we try pick it without our actual tools then they'll know and run. If we kick it down, they'll attack. So.."
"Flashbang?" Clint asked with such a happy voice it almost made Natasha laugh. He was hell bent on getting to use those since Stark installed them on an arrow head for him!
"I was just suggesting we get ready for an attack and kick it down. Flashbang will take too long to clear for us to get in there."
"You're no fun." She looked to him at his disappointed words and let out a chuckle at his pout.
"Come on, Hawkguy." She pushed his arm gently, standing then. "Lets finish this so I can go have a bath."
"Old bones getting to you, Romanoff?" Clint smirked. She just shook her head with a smirk of her own.
"Don't get started on old bones, Barton. I'm sure I can pull out a million more jokes than you can." She winked at his shocked expression before checking to make sure her gun was in order. One last bullet check and she was moving, quickly and silently making her way over towards the door.
She kept herself flush against one side of the wooden entrance, Clint on the other side a half second later. She listened, waiting to hear if anyone inside had noticed that the worlds most deadly duo were waiting outside for them.
Not a peep. Just a soft laugh from a group as someone told a joke. She smirked a little at Clint who was nocking his arrow once more. Silently, he mouthed the words 'Three, Two, One.' for the pair to be ready. On one, he sprang into action, instantly moving from the cover of the wall to kick in the door.
It popped open, the handle and lock completely breaking under the force of his boot, and she was right beside him to be ready for an attack. 9 guards met them, all having weapons raised, but all were way too idiotic to know to fire without prejudice when someone just busts into your bosses hide away!
She took down 4 with the bullets of her gun, he took down 4 with his arrows, and as the last one was cowering in fear and trying to figure out which one to shoot first; the duo glared at eachother.
"You can't beat me again!" Clint complained, pulling the bow string back that little bit further to almost enforce the point that he was the one who was going to take the shot. They both smirked at the whimper from the man. "He's my kill!"
"Oh please." She scoffed, finger ghosting on the trigger. "We both know a bullet's faster than an arrow!"
"Well count of three we fire and see then, Widow!"
She looked back with an eyebrow raised when she heard a 'Thump', the poor kid passing out from fright and just collapsing to the ground.
"Huh." Clint huffed from beside her, releasing the tension in his bow with a confused face before taking a step towards him. "I think that's the first time that's happened."
"Maybe for you." She smirked, shoving his shoulder gently as she advanced on the last door, the one leading to the main office. Whoever was behind there would be the one in charge of the whole place so they needed to be taken for nice and civil interrogation! Led by the best pair in the business! "Pretty sure you nearly passed out when we first met."
"That's because you shot me." He pouted, nocking another arrow when they got close to the door. There was no alarm raised, no boss man running out behind a wall of guards, so she took a guess at the fact they thought those bullet shots were their hired thugs finishing the job.
She sighed as she was about to kick in the door, the sound of numerous boots approaching their location through the hall catching her attention. She looked to Clint with a frown.
"Well, you wanted to take out more than me.." She started softly, and even though he looked surprised that there were more guards he still shot her a grin and a nod.
"You have two minutes, Romanoff." He winked and was gone before she could reply, standing guard at the door they just busted in. She could hear the whoosh of arrows leaving bow as she turned back to the door she was interested in.
Without a moments hesitation, she kicked it in, revealing a large office with three men inside. It was an old room, book shelves lining the walls and a large desk at the back infront of a window. Two men were facing away from her when she initially kicked in the door, sitting in two chairs infront of the desk while the third sat in one behind it.
They must have been having a grand old time while sending their men to their certain doom, because on the desk infront of each was a glass of some alcohol which Natasha would bet is scotch and some lit cigars.
They looked to her with eyebrow raised. This obviously wasn't in their game plan! The two infront of the desk didn't even stand, even with gun trained their way, though the one behind did and he scowled at her.
"That was a mahogany door, young lady!" He growled, hands bracing on the desk. He sounded French. She was usually good at telling where people are from based on their voice, and he had a thick curl to his voice like someone who had to learn English from French later in life would. "You know how much something like that costs?"
"Doesn't matter." She shrugged as she stepped inside the door a little more. The man on the left seemed to tense at her words, but she was focused on who she assumed was the main man in the room. "As soon as we get you three out of here the place will be blown sky high anyway."
"Bet your ass it will!" Barton called in at her words, causing a smirk she was trying to hold back to break out. He was an idiot sometimes. "I can't wait to - Fuck off will you I'm trying to talk! - push the charge button!"
He sounded closer. She guessed he had moved to start firing from closer to the door she was by but she didn't dare look away from the men to check. They may be idiots, but they were Hydra, and she couldn't take them too lightly.
"And who's 'we'?" The guy asked with an eyebrow raised. Natasha had to catch the laugh that was trying to come out. Clint was no doubt about to complain about how they're never recognised and how they're Avengers too and probably send an arrow through his head for not knowing the great Hawkeye!
"The infamous Black Widow." She froze at the voice. It takes alot to make Natasha freeze, to cause such a reaction from her, to cause every nerve in her body to stand on end and make her wish that she was anywhere else but there in the moment. "You remember our little program, right, Delacroix?"
She slowly looked to the owner of the gruff voice, and her heart sank at the smirk that greeted her. She had seen it too much before, too many nights as a child, too many nights now during those nightmares with girls screaming and gun shots firing. It made bile rise to the back of her throat.
"Oh. I do." Delacroix said with a sly grin. He nodded to the other man, the man sitting on Natasha's right - his left - and he stood to go around to the French man. He was yet to speak, but Natasha didn't care. She was too busy staring into the eyes of the man who haunted some of her nights. "We'll leave her to you then, Volkov."
Bogdan Volkov. He was never a high ranking member of the Red Room. He never trained the girls nor did he recruit them. But for the later years, just before they'd graduate and go out to the big bad world alone, he was their supervisor. He would command the bunk rooms with worse than an iron fist - more like a titanium diamond dust covered fist. Unyielding, unforgiving, and completely unreasonable. He would torture them just for the hell of it, things that she isn't comfortable thinking about now, things that even they weren't taught about in training.
For her to say, after so many years with the KGB and with SHIELD, that he dished out the worst torture she's ever received should be considered a compliment by him.
"Well that's a gun." Clint muttered from behind her, snapping her from her thoughts completely. Sure enough Delacroix and the third man were currently making their way out the window while Volkov had stood and was aiming a pistol straight at her. "Waste those guys please! Currently fighting a small army!"
"You're supposed to be dead.." She breathed out. During her trance, her weapon had lowered slightly. She was no longer a threat. She was now a scared teenager infront of her supervisor.
He was supposed to be dead. They raided that god forsaken place a year or two after she joined SHIELD. She was sure she saw his name on the confirmed killed list, the list compiled of whatever remains were left after they blew the place sky high. He was confirmed dead. She made sure of it.
"My little Natalia, siding with the Americans." He tutted, like a disappointed father. He had aged. He no longer had sharp black hair tied back. It was now cropped - dare she say balding - grey-near-white. The beard was gone, that prominent feature that made his smirk more menacing. He was clean shaven, his still strong build in a suit that just looked wrong on him. It was him though. She had no doubt. Maybe she might have thought the names were coincidental, after all she had only heard his second name and there were millions of those around the world, but the eyes and the smirk gave it away in an instant. "I heard the rumours, but I did hope it wasn't true. You had such promise."
"What are you waiting for?" Barton barked from behind her. The sound of firing arrows was lessening, and he sounded a lot closer now, so she guessed the numbers on his side were dwindling. The other two men had made it out the window and were watching through it with smirks. "Waste the bastard!"
"Oh he's crude." Volkov frowned. The disappointment in his voice made his accent that little bit more prominent.
"Oh fuck off." Barton growled. Natasha turned to look at her partner with wide eyes, and he was just smirking out the door at the soldiers still piling in. "Dunno who you are, dude. But you're lucky to be alive right now!"
He was going to get them killed!
She snapped her attention back to the man who had a weapon trained on her, his booming laugh filling the room. She visibly shuddered.
"I'm sorry." She stammered, shaking her head quickly. She could just feel Clint staring at her. "He didn't mean that, sir."
"No, no! I like him!" He laughed. The gun cocked and his finger positioned itself. Her arms remained unmoving. "I'll kill him last!"
"Natasha! Fire the damn weapon!" Clint shouted. It worked, she snapped out of her past, snapped out of seeing him as her handler and saw him as the sick criminal he is. It worked but her arm raised a little too late.
She screwed her eyes shut at the sound of the gun shot, but no pain came. She hated being shot, easily one of the worst pains she's ever experienced. Instead, she was roughly pushed to the ground, her own weapon clattering helplessly away as she fell onto her hip. A curse-half-scream followed, and she snapped her eyes open at the familiar voice.
Clint was on the ground, gasping for breath as a red spot formed on the right of his chest. His hand was desperately clutching at it as he lay on his back, more than likely uncomfortable on his quiver, but his eyes were screwed shut and she was scared he was going to pass out. He took the bullet for her.
She was weak and he saved her ass again.
"Shit." She muttered under her breath, quickly scrambling to his side then to tend to his wound. She started taking his vest off to get to the entry wound. "Stay with me, Clint. Eyes open."
"Tash.." The nickname her best friend used so many times in the past repeated itself over and over again, like a whispered prayer falling from his lips. She had her hands pressed to the wound, calling in emergency to the others to get him out quickly.
"Tash.." She froze at the name that time, a different voice speaking it, rolling it over as if tasting the term of endearment and finding it disgusting. She reluctantly looked up to see Volkov with one foot out the window, a scary smirk playing on his features as he watched her. "Seems you've gained a weakness, мой вдова. I look forward to using that. I look forward to meeting your team."
He was gone just as Clint let out a wet cough, so her attention was taken away from the direction he ran. The guards weren't coming in, they must have left when they knew their leaders were safe.
Seems you've gained a weakness..
"We need evac. Clint's down. I repeat, Clint is down."
I look forward to meeting your team.
This wasn't going to end well.