Hey everyone! I had hoped to have this posted on Friday, but my motivation sucked so it is obviously two days late. Anyways, last chapter, there were 28 reviews! Holy crap, like seriously you guys, you're awesome. Keep them coming. Though in comparison to last chapter, this one is going to seem very bland. I hope you like it anyways. Enjoy!
Motherfucking douche, dick, asshole, son of a bitch. What the fucking hell!? Clint thought angrily as he paced a small section of the roof of Avengers Tower. It had been at least ten minutes since he stormed out of the penthouse following Barnes' proposal and no one had come looking for him, not even Natasha. He was beginning to think their rekindled romance was all a set up by the red headed assassin just so she could knock him down again.
The archer continued pacing, ignoring the arrival of the elevator. While he did want to talk to someone, he wasn't quite sure now was the time. His anger was getting the best of him and he wasn't quite sure how he would react the moment his visitor approached him.
"Clint?"
Stopping dead in his tracks, pacing forgotten, Clint stiffened at the sound of her voice. Of all the people to come find him, it had to be her. She was the last person he wanted to see right now and he certainly didn't want to talk to her. And yet, he found himself spinning around wildly, eyes burning with fury.
"What!?" he growled at her.
Natasha Romanoff, the famed Black Widow, flinched at Clint's outburst. She shrunk away from the archer; it was at that moment Clint realized how close she had come to him. The sadness in her eyes was apparent at Clint's outburst while it seemed that a frown was going to be permanently etched upon her face. Clint felt guilty for snapping at her, but he had to remind himself as to why he was angry with her.
He stepped forward and Natasha instinctively stepped back. "Yeah, you should be afraid," Clint drawled. "You know you're in a shit load of trouble."
"How the fuck was I supposed to know he'd pull out a ring?" Natasha exclaimed, waving her arms around ferociously. "How the fuck was I supposed to know he'd pull out your ring?"
"Because he's untrustworthy, Natasha!" Clint shouted. "If that's not enough proof, then I don't know what is!"
Natasha shrunk away from Clint once again, looking like a little kid being scolded by its parents. Clint had never seen Natasha act this way before; he'd never seen her so afraid.
"He's different, Clint," Natasha spoke softly.
Clint threw his head. "For fuck's sake, Natasha, would you listen to yourself!? Has he brainwashed you too?"
"What has he done wrong besides take your ring and use it to propose to me? It's not like he knew it was your ring!"
"Hmmm, yeah, he knew it was my ring," Clint shot back, a smug pout plastered on his face. "He knew I was looking for it. He probably had it on him when I asked him if he'd seen it!"
Natasha's mouth dropped open, only for her to close it again. There was no way she could come up with a rebuttal in this situation; Barnes was very clearly at fault here. So Clint stood waiting, his arms folded across his chest and a cold glare aimed at Natasha's direction.
"He must know something," Natasha whispered, dropping her gaze to the floor. She shifted her feet uncomfortably, from right to left, before looking back up at Clint. "He has to know about us."
"Can you forget about us for a second and look at the bigger picture here?" Clint inquired with a snarl. "He's a liar and he's probably been playing you from the start." Natasha opened her mouth to say something, but Clint just continued, plowing through. "Someone doesn't just turn their training off automatically, Natasha. It took you years to warm up to me, and even then you still hated my guts. He's playing you. He's playing all of us!"
Natasha stared back at him, unsure of what to say. She knew that he was right; Barnes clearly wasn't the man he said he was. But basing it off of the fact that he had the ring Clint was going to give to her, what else was he guilty of?
"That very well may be," Natasha said hesitantly, "but we can't just go up to him with guns blazing and interrogate him."
"Watch me," Clint mumbled to himself. However, the archer knew better than to say something to himself; Natasha would always catch it.
"Don't you dare, Barton," she snapped icily with a dispassionate glare.
Clint rolled his eyes, displeased with Natasha's response. "So what do we do then? Go about our business as usual?"
"I suppose," she sighed with a shrug of her shoulders. "Maybe we shouldn't hang out as often. And if we do, let's not do it at three in the morning."
With another eye roll and a shake of his head, Clint said, "This is fucking ridiculous. We're seriously going to do nothing about this."
"I'll handle it!" Natasha snapped. "Just stay out of it."
Without another word to Clint, the red head turned on her heel and marched back to the elevator. The archer watched as she walked with determination, her head held high and her heels clacking with every step. She'd reached the elevator and pressed the button when something popped into Clint's head.
"What did you say to him?" he blurted out.
At first, Natasha didn't turn around; her eyes stayed focused on the elevator doors. But then, the faintest murmur floated over to Clint. He barely heard it at first. But once he drowned out all the other city noises, he heard it clear as day.
"I told him no."
Then, the elevator pinged, signaling the arrival of the chrome carriage. The silver doors slid open and the red headed assassin immediately stepped on, never glancing back at Clint. Her gaze was cast downward as the doors slid shut, leaving Clint alone on the roof to wonder what the hell was really going on.
He didn't return to the engagement dinner. He didn't contact any of his teammates for days. He advised JARVIS to prohibit visitors from coming into his apartment, including Tony. In the event of an absolute emergency or a SHIELD mission, only then would he allow visitors in the apartment. Otherwise, visitors were not allowed in Clint's apartment.
Sleep became an enigma for Clint. It wasn't that he wasn't tired because yawning every three seconds definitely meant he was tired. No, his mind had been racing since the night of the engagement party. Natasha had been very clear that Barnes knew something was going on between them; so why did she decline his proposal? Obviously it would raise a red flag; she of all people should know that. Or had she simply not been thinking when she declined?
There had been many times when JARVIS interrupted the deafening silence in Clint's apartment to inform him that Natasha was demanding to see him. Despite simply being a computer, JARVIS seemed concerned for the assassins' relationship. Many times he had informed Clint that Natasha was begging and nearly swayed Clint's decision to let her in. But Clint didn't budge. She said they needed to stay away from one another and that was just what they were going to do.
It was on day four when Clint realized what he was doing was unhealthy. He had been acting like he'd lost a loved one, which was strange because the only person he loved was Natasha and she was still alive. Displeased with his behavior, he traipsed to the bathroom to take a shower; he hadn't had one since the night of the engagement party.
But right as he stepped foot into the porcelain room, JARVIS' voice piped up over the sound system.
"So sorry to interrupt Mr. Barton," the A.I. said apologetically, "but Director Fury is here to see you, along with Agent Carter. Director Fury says it is regarding crucial SHIELD matters."
Suddenly, Clint's heart began to race out of excitement. This was the moment. He hoped this was the moment he would be thrust back into the field.
"Yes!" Clint exclaimed in celebration. "Send them up JARVIS."
"Certainly Mr. Barton," replied JARVIS affirmatively.
Quickly, Clint sprinted across the room and shucked the crusty clothes from his body in exchange for a clean ensemble. He stumbled into his jeans, fumbling with the button, before hastily pulling on his t-shirt. From down the hall, he heard the elevator ping and he rushed out of the bedroom to greet his guests.
The elevator doors were just opening as he made it to the living room. Director Fury stepped out of the elevator first, clad in all black, his black trench coat billowing behind him. Sharon Carter stepped out behind him, dressed in her SHIELD uniform, one very similar to Natasha's with the exception of the dark blue color.
"Good afternoon, Director," the archer greeted with a grunt. "Agent Carter," he added with a nod in the blonde's direction.
"Agent Barton," boomed Fury, clasping his hands behind his back as he strolled further into the room. Sharon stayed rooted in her spot in front of the elevators, her arms folded over her chest. "I have been informed that you have not been in contact with the rest of the residents of this complex. Is that correct?"
A morbid feeling washed over him, so Clint wondered if he was in trouble. Was his lack of communication with his teammates affecting his status at SHIELD? Was Fury here to terminate his position at SHIELD?
"Y-yes, sir," Clint stuttered.
"Therefore, I would assume, you have not been informed of the recent developments on the HYDRA front," Fury stated, turning on his heel to stare at Clint with his one eye.
Clint swallowed heavily. "No, I have not been informed."
Fury nodded and then turned to Sharon, who was still standing in front of the elevator, quiet as a mouse. "Agent Carter, would you care to do the honors?" Fury questioned.
The blonde nodded, her ponytail bobbing up and down. She stepped forward and then produced an iPhone from the belt cinched around her waist. Her fingers tapped the screen at lightning speed before graphics were projected into thin air.
In front of Clint, several SHIELD files and graphics were displayed. He could only pick out tidbits of information among the hundreds of files, but words such as "base," "Extremis," and "testing" stood out. The photos flashed in front of his eyes in an array of colors and shapes. Some of them were of missions that Clint wasn't familiar with; others were photos of missions Clint had taken part in, including his rescue mission.
"HYDRA has been acting up recently," Sharon interjected, her voice cutting through Clint's thoughts like a knife slicing through softened butter. "They went M.I.A. when we rescued you but in the past couple days, they've been active."
Sharon stepped forward and rearranged the floating graphics as if they were simply pieces of paper strewn about a tabletop. The graphics complied, moving with ease as Sharon rearranged them to her liking. When all but one was piled on top of one another, the blonde SHIELD agent turned back to Clint. "We've narrowed it down to three bases that they could possibly be working out of since these are the three bases with the most activity as of recently: Auckland, Kiev, and Toronto."
"Agent Barnes was on surveillance the week of your psych evaluation to determine which bases were most active," Fury chimed in, stepping forward as if to worm his way back into the conversation. "These are his findings."
Fury and Sharon stayed silent for a couple seconds so Clint could absorb the information that had been presented to him. Clint studied the single file floating in mid air. It showed brief details of each HYDRA base: statistics, location, and the like.
"We think they're planning something," Fury continued, interrupting Clint's thoughts, "so we need you to be on alert in case there's an attack. We need all of the Avengers, and some SHIELD agents – including Sharon here – on standby."
Clint nodded animatedly, biting the inside of his cheek to contain his grin. "Yes, absolutely, sir."
"Great," the director deadpanned before sidling up to Sharon's side. The blonde closed out the file on her phone, causing the floating graphics to disappear into thin air. She reattached the phone to her belt before turning her attention back to Fury and Clint.
"We need you to be ready at moment's notice, Barton," Fury said. "So I suggest you get your ass to the gym and start communicating with your teammates again."
Without a stone cold glare from his one eye, Fury marched past Clint and Sharon and pressed the button to call the elevator. Immediately, the silver carriage's doors slid open and Fury stepped in, his black trench coat flapping behind him. On his heels, Sharon piled in as well, offering up a discreet wave to Clint as a means of saying goodbye. Within seconds, the chrome doors slid shut, leaving Clint alone in his empty, posh apartment once again.
After a few minutes had passed, Clint realized that he was thoroughly disappointed with Fury's visit. As excited as he was to hear that they were tracking HYDRA, immediate action was not the case. Fury wanted him to be ready at moment's notice, but if that moment would ever come, Clint was not sure. His excitement went as quickly as it came. So he collapsed onto the sofa, turned on the TV and resorted to watching another rerun of Lost for the sake of his sanity.
Uh oh, what's going on with HYDRA? What do you think they're up to? And do you think Barnes knows something? He had been gone for a week when everything between Clint and Natasha went down after all. Stay tuned!
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