Author's notes:
Hi. So, while the plot is astoundingly similar to most of the fanfiction on this site, I really hope that this will be different- where writing style is concerned, anyway. I really hope that you guys will like this. After this story is finished, there will be a parallel story called Bohemian, so look forward to that:) So without further ado, I will shut up and leave you to Left Field.
Left Field
by mynameisvaleria
When you're tired of aiming your arrows, still you never hit the mark.
0.
The air was surprisingly cool on her skin (it was surprising enough that she could feel the air on her skin), and she wished she could have more time to look at the scenery. She was afraid that she didn't have much time to spare, but she admired it nonetheless.
Might as well.
The bright sun was lazy in the sky, radiating enough sunlight to fill up her dark little world and leave her in positivity for her lifetime (but of course, a lifetime was very little time to her now). The clouds lounged casually, weaving in and out from her vision as she continued on her journey.
Her fingers grappled blindly for the set of bow and arrows that she had had in her possession. When she found them, she could only manage to shoot blindly at… something. Where was it? Her mind was too jumbled up to recognise the direction that the sharp object had travelled to.
'Romana!'
She tried to find the source of this voice, only to fall harder when she couldn't place it.
Her name echoed in the clearing- or maybe it was only in her mind, she wasn't sure.
Anyway, she gave up on the search, and concentrated on the sky. Why hadn't it stopped? The rush was almost too much for her to handle.
Slowly, she let the dark take over her vision, feeling it all fade from her system.
Somehow, it wasn't the worst feeling in the world, knowing it was all about to end. At least she felt the sun shining down on her- at least she knew that her world had ended in a bright streak of light- at least she knew that her dark little world was no more—
And for her, it was all for the better.
'Siren is down.'
Clint Barton's world stopped spinning for a second.
Siren is down. Siren is down. Siren is down.
The three words echoed in his brain, each echo getting louder and louder until it was all he heard at all. He turned, and Natasha had turned to look at him, her expression neutral.
'Siren is down,' he breathed, unaware that the words had slipped out of his lips.
A flash went by his peripheral vision, and a loud crack sounded near him. His footsteps brought him closer to the foreign sound.
Agent Barton stared at the ground for a long moment, his eyes burning holes into the rubble all around him. He slowly bent down and picked up the bloody object.
Siren is down.
Clint stared at his dirtied hands. He was holding his own bow- the bow that he had given to her months ago.
Siren is down.
He picked an arrow from his quiver, and pulled the string on his bow straight. He let the arrow soar through the sky.
And after all, Clint Barton did not even know she had participated in the battle at New York.
Siren is down.