Chapter 17

"I'm not finished with Miss Cabrini," Fuller told Fury without looking up at him.

"Yes, you are," Fury stood close to the agent, looming over him. "Now get out of here before I do something both of us will regret."

Fuller considered objecting further, then with a snort, stood up, "fine. Good luck getting anything out of her, though."

"Oh, I think Frankie and I can reach an understanding quickly," he gave her a knowing look. "Right, Frankie?"

After the agent left the room in a huff, Fury took the chair he had vacated. Flipping through the file on the table, he gave her a crooked smile.

"Strange thing happened on the way to work this morning. I got a call informing me on a Hydra plan to break into the pentagon. Now that isn't unusual. I get those kinds of calls almost every day. Hydra's planning to kidnap the president. Hydra's planning to steal the codes to arm our nuclear arsenal. Hydra's planning to blackmail James Quincey into changing the formula for Coca Cola again. Hell, I had to ask who the fuck James Quincey was and why Hydra even cared," he stopped and laughed.

"You see, Hydra is always planning to do something. But I have to treat every threat as credible until we can prove it isn't. That's why your good friend," he nodded at Barton, "was at the pentagon this morning. Do you care to know what he found?" Fury leaned back in the chair and looked at Frankie.

Frankie looked blandly back at him, not bothering to glance at Barton though she was acutely aware of his presence, "a bunch of cheap tchotchkes made in China? You know, that's ironic: the souvenirs sold at the pentagon being made in China. Patriotism be damned; it's all about the bottom line, isn't it?"

Fury didn't smile, "you think this is funny?"

"No, not in the least. I'm hungry, my ass hurts from sitting in this hard ass chair, and my patience with this bullshit is wearing thin. Look, let me save you some time," she ground out. "I don't know shit. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. That's just how my shitty luck goes. You got me for having a false ID, that's it. Charge me or let me go. I'm through talking to you."

"I told you she was charming," Barton said as he leaned against the door.

"I should have stabbed you twice," she snapped, finally looking at him.

Before Fury could answer, his phone dinged. Looking down at the text, he frowned and stood.

"As much as I hate to end this lovely chat we're having, I have to step out."

Barton stepped away from the door and held it open for Fury, "I'll be out in a minute."

Fury looked at him, then back at Frankie, "just don't give her anything sharp."

"Wasn't planning to get that close."

Fury looked like he was going to say something else, but his phone dinged again, and he left the room.

The two of them waited in silence for several seconds before Frankie gave in and spoke.

"So, you survived the crash."

He came over to stand across from her and leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed. "Yeah, you held on long enough for us to get close to a building. When I was thrown out, I went through a window and landed in an empty office. Thanks for that." He nodded at her.

"Thanks for that?" Frankie sputtered. "That's all you have to say? You stalked me, chased me down a fire escape, then you fucking drugged and kidnapped me! If you hadn't done that, we wouldn't have been in the jet in the first place."

He shrugged off her tirade. "If you hadn't stabbed me, I wouldn't have had to hunt you down."

Frankie lurched up as far as she could with her wrists cuffed to the table. "If you hadn't killed Rory, I wouldn't have stabbed you!" she yelled at him.

Barton didn't maintain his nonchalance either. He stepped up to the table, shoving the chair out of his way and leaned over until he was just a few inches from her face. "If I killed him, it was because he was a piece of shit criminal that deserved it," he snarled.

"He wasn't a criminal, you bastard. He was just a kid. A sixteen-year-old kid who had spent the weekend studying for his SAT exam so he could go to college and make a better life for himself instead of living on the streets and eating garbage. He was just a sixteen-year-old kid," her throat constricted, and she had to swallow hard. "He had his whole life ahead of him. He wanted to build low-cost housing so that other kids like him could have homes. He had his whole life ahead of him and now he's," she had to stop. She almost said, "caught up in Hydra's madness," instead of dead.

She slumped back into her chair and looked down at her hands, blinking to keep the tears at bay.

Barton looked down at her with a pained expression, then pulled the chair over and sat down.

"Tell me what happened."

Frankie shook her head and refused to look up.

"Tell me what I did," he asked softly.

She raised her head and met his eyes. It was the sadness in them that made her speak.

"We were on our way to dinner. I promised him dumplings from Wangs. They were his favorite. When we got to Douglas and 137th, we heard a big commotion and there was a crowd of people gathered at the intersection. Of course, Rory wanted to see what was going on, so he pushed our way through the crowd."

She shook her head, "and there you were. You were dressed in black, but your hood was pushed back so we could see your face." She stopped and looked up, tear in her eyes. "Rory was so excited. An actual fucking Avenger," she stumbled over the name. "Even then, with half of those that were left blaming you for failing, even then he was still thrilled to get to see one of you guys in action."

Frankie took a breath and steadied her voice, "anyway, there you were, fighting with four guys. I remember laughing because you had a sword and they had these big-ass guns." She smiled faintly at the memory. "You got to admit, that is pretty ridiculous."

Barton chuckled, "you should have seen me using a bow and arrows against the aliens with laser guns."

"Maybe you should ask for an upgrade."

"I'll think about it."

The moment of levity gave her a chance to get her emotions under control a bit so she could continue more calmly. "Well, you were kicking their asses with what you had. But the fight was moving away from the intersection. Most of us were ready to go about our business, but not Rory. He and a couple others followed you guys down 137th. About halfway down the block, there was a building, the old Murray building, undergoing renovations. There was scaffolding set up in front of it. To go down the street, you either had to walk in the street itself, or under the scaffolding. Rory and the guys with him stayed under the scaffolding, since it kind of hid them from sight. Or at least, that's what one of the guys told a reporter later."

"By that time, there were only two of the guys you were fighting left. One of them jumped into a car and attempted to run you down with it."

"I remember that. They were running drugs for a cartel and had killed an undercover ATF agent."

"Good, so you remember shooting out the tire of the car with your bow?"

He nodded solemnly, "yes. Then I went after the last guy on foot."

"You didn't see what happened after you shot the car's tire?"

"No, I was too focused on the last guy. He had information that would lead me to the man behind everything."

"Well, I hope it was worth the life of a sixteen-year-old boy, because that car crashed into the scaffolding and the old building façade. The whole thing collapsed. It buried Rory and the two guys with him."

Burton looked down at his hands, "I didn't know."

"No, you were too busy going after the bad guy that you forgot to be a hero."

"I was nobody's hero during that time."

"Well, at least we can agree on that."

They sat in silence, each contemplating their loss.

Barton broke the silence, "how do we move on from here?"

"What?"

"Nothing that I say can excuse what I did. Nothing I say will bring your Rory back."

"You got that right."

"Killing me won't bring him back either. If anything, it just made your life that much more difficult."

"And again, you're right. What do you want to do then? I hope you don't want me to forgive you, because that ain't happening."

He smiled, "can't blame me for trying, can you?"

"Give me a knife and ask that again."

He laughed this time. "Oh, no. I'm not that stupid."

"Then how about letting me go on with my life and staying the hell away?"

"Is that what you're doing? Going on with your life?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You dropped off the face of the planet."

"That's what I do. Hell, that's what anyone would do if an Avenger tried to kidnap them and botched it the fuck up."

"Is that all?"

Frankie moaned and dropped her head onto her arms, "and we're back to the interrogation."

Sighing, she looked up at Barton with weary eyes, "just ask me what you want."

"Are you working for Hydra?"

"No." Technically, she was working for herself to free Rory from them.

"Why were you at the pentagon today?"

"I was testing out my new ID. I figured if it could pass the screening to get me into the pentagon, then it was good. Really good."

"Why did it need to be that good?"

"Because I need an ID to get a decent job and not have you breathing down my neck. I didn't want you to be able to track me down again." Which wasn't exactly a lie.

He opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the door opening. Fury stuck his head into the room.

"We're done here."

Barton cocked his head, "what about her?"

"She's not our problem anymore. Nothing's out of place, nothing's missing, everyone is accounted for. Looks like we got some bad intel. Let's go."

"Give me a minute."

Fury shot him a curious look but didn't say anything as he let the door close. Frankie looked at Barton with a cocky smile, "told you."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making bits of it stand at odd angles to his head. "I know it won't make any difference, but I'm sorry about Rory. He didn't deserve that. Neither did you. But…,"

"Let me stop you there," Frankie interrupted. "You're about to say some bullshit about how you know that, deep down, I'm basically a good person. That I shouldn't let this define who I am. Or some other drivel along that line."

"Yeah, some drivel like that," he conceded with a wry smile.

"Well, I'm not basically a good person, no matter how deep you go. I'm not a bad person either. I'm just trying to get by the best I can in a world that don't give a rat's ass about me or my problems. You didn't give a shit about me or Rory. Not really. All you cared about was getting the person that drove a knife into your gut and left you to die. So, you can keep that apology. I don't want it. Nor do I want any advice from you. Get the fuck out of here and leave me alone."

She didn't say anything else to Barton as he got up and went to the door. He paused for a moment before opening it and met her angry gaze.

"I'm not your enemy, Frankie."

"You're sure as hell not my friend, Clint. You killed the only one I had."

She waited until the door closed behind him before slumping back onto the table to hide her face from anyone watching from behind the mirror. Finding out that the mission had been aborted was infuriating. She had gotten caught and gone through the last few hours for no reason. Hell, Dean had probably aborted the moment she veered off script.

Now, she had to just wait to be released and go back for her debrief.