The next time the voice tells him to open his eyes, the little girl is older.
She smells like cigarettes and Stolichnaya. She is wearing a pale blue hospital gown.
Next to her is a man. He is blonde. He smells like baby powder, and leather, and sweat.
The man smiles gently. "Who are you?" He says in the dog's voice.
ɃɄȻƘɎ ɃɅɌȠɆȿ
ȿɆɍɞɆɅȠȾ ɃɅɌȠɆȿ
ɟɅɱɆȿ ɃɄȻɧɅȠɅȠ ɃɅɌȠɆȿ
ȾɧɆ ɅȿȿɆȾ
ȾɧɆ ɰɨȠȾɆɍ ȿɵȽɖɨɆɍ
Дьявол
The man stares at him, waiting for his answer.
There is none.
The man laughs. "I'm Clint, by the way. That is Nat, with the red hair. "
Real Name: Clinton Francis Barton
Alias(es): Clint Barton, Hawkeye
Citizenship: American
Date of Birth: January 7, 1971
Clearance: Level 7
Affiliation: S.H.I.E.L.D. (former), STRIKE Team: Delta (former), Avengers (former)
Status: Alive
Real Name: Natalia Alianovna Romanoff
Alias(es): Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow, Natalie Rushman, Tatiana Sokolova, Alion Vans, Marya Konn, Irina Zlataryova
Citizenship: Soviet/Russian, American
Clearance: Level 7
Affiliation: KGB (formerly), S.H.I.E.L.D. (formerly), STRIKE (formerly), STRIKE Team: Delta (formerly), Stark Industries (undercover, formerly), Avengers (possibly former)
Status: Alive
"Your turn," the man prompts "What does your mother call you?"
"J-Jamie." He says. His voice aches from disuse.
The man, Clint, turns and gives the girl, Nat, a triumphant look. The girl, Nat, glares at the man, Clint.
Clint grins wide.
"Okay, Jamie. We need to go make a couple of calls. Why don't you rest up, and we'll be back in a little while."
He, Jamie, watches as Clint gives a lopsided grin, loops his arm around Nat's back and leads her out of the room.
As they go, the air smells like popcorn, engine grease, and shoe polish. Jamie feels… sad?
He closes his eyes. He waits.
