"Clint," Natasha began, "I-I wasn't lying when I told you that my parents died in a fire and that I was saved by a secret agency…."
"Skip the prologue, Romanov," Felicia demanded, digging the dagger deeper in Clint's neck.
"Natasha, you don't have to…," Clint whimpered as warm blood dripped down his throat, "Just let her kill me!"
"No Clint! I-I was taken to this organization and trained to be a spy and assassin. When you were sent by S.H.I.E.L.D to kill me, it was because they thought that I had information on the weapons that Demeter had been smuggling!"
"Did you know about the weapons?" Clint muttered, jerking angrily against the dagger.
"No," Natasha cried out, "I swear Clint; I had no idea about the weapons! I was used to gather information for the agency, but I was never given any! That's why when you came looking for me, I didn't kill you on the spot, and I joined you. When I met you, I knew immediately that you knew exactly how I felt."
"S-so you weren't just trying to get close to me to gather information on S.H.I.E.L.D's new weapons?"
"No, of course not Clint. I didn't know anything about S.H.I.E.L.D's weapons! I love you, and I never wanted to hurt you, but I thought if you knew the whole truth about me that you wouldn't be able to forgive me," Natasha cried, hanging her head shamefully.
Clint stared at Natasha with disbelief; Felicia smiled satisfyingly.
"I'm so sorry, Clint," Natasha whispered pitifully.
"Aw, poor little Natasha," Felicia purred.
Suddenly, there was a sickening sound of a slicing dagger as Clint screamed and fell to the floor, writhing in pain as dark blood oozed from his neck.
"CLINT, NO," Natasha screamed as she scrabbled painfully to his side.
"Now he can die slowly, and you can watch him," Felicia snarled as she stood up and walked out of the party ballroom, leaving them alone.
"Oh, Clint! I'm so sorry! Please forgive me, Clint," Natasha hyperventilated as she tore her dress even more to cover the large, bleeding gash in his throat.
"Nat… I-I forgive you, and I love you" Clint choked out, gripping her broken hand gently.
"No no no! Look at me Clint, you got to stay with me! Stay with me," Natasha sobbed over Clint, "This is all my fault! I should have killed her when I had the chance!"
"Natasha, it isn't your fault; I told you not to kill her! I shouldn't have listened to her! I should have gotten the information out of her instead of letting her talk and twist up my mind," Clint muttered, "Nat, I'm not going to make it…."
"Clint, no please! You can't leave me! I won't sit here and let you die"
"Nat, I need you to be strong for me!"
"I-I can't!"
"Yes you can," Clint whispered, kissing her hand, "You have to!"
"I'll go and find help for you, Clint! It'll all be okay," Natasha cried as she applied pressure to his cut.
"Sweetie, you're too weak and your arms are broken and useless. I want you to find a way out of here and get yourself some help. Leave me here and go find some help!"
"I-I'm fine! I can go get us help… I can…."
Clint was right, she was feeling incredibly weak. Her arms felt like lead, broken and bent out of shape. The smell of the blood was getting to her head, making her dizzy and nauseous. She couldn't keep her eyes open. She fell onto Clint's strong chest and passed out, blood still streaming from his neck. Clint's grip on Natasha loosened as his blood drained from his body. Spots began to cloud his vision as Clint slipped into unconsciousness, holding Natasha in his arms.