A few days later, Amelia was given the all clear to start her much needed training. Thankfully, Natasha promised to keep Amelia's breakdown between them alone, so no one else knew. Amelia headed toward the gym for archery practice, slightly nervous since she hadn't done archery for a while, and she was going against the archer. "Good luck," she heard someone call and glanced behind her, smiling when she saw her mother.
"Thanks," Amelia laughed, "I'll need it." Natasha laughed as well before disappearing and Amelia headed into the gym.
Clint was already waiting for her, his bow in hand and quiver slung over his shoulder, two targets set up for them to use. "There you are." He turned his head to glance at his daughter. "I didn't think you would show up."
"Haha," Amelia smirked, sticking out her tongue. "Of course I would come." Clint smiled and nodded toward the side. "Over there is a bow and a quiver ready for you." She turned and headed over to the table, picking up the quiver and slinging it over her shoulder, grabbing the bow and heading back over to her father. "Okay, I'm going to tell you now that I'm way out of practice, so don't freak out." Clint laughed and Amelia pulled an arrow out of the quiver carefully, knocking it into place on the string. Taking a deep breath, she gently gripped the back of the arrow between her fingers, turning to the side slightly and drawing back the string, closing an eye as she stared at the target. Taking a deep breath to calm herself; Amelia counted slowly to thirty before releasing the arrow. She watched as it sailed through the air and hit the target, the tip breaking through the Styrofoam in the bull's eye, a little to the side in the yellow ring.
She grinned and spun to her father. "Normally I would say 'beat that', but I won't 'cause I know you will." Clint smiled and raised his bow, pulling the string back. Quickly Amelia saw how fluid the movement was and watched in amazement as he released the arrow and sent it flying, the arrow hitting the target dead in the middle. Amelia turned back to her target and notched another arrow, repeating the process as she released it, the arrow hitting the black line that separated the yellow/gold from the red. "That sucked…"
After a few more rounds and being beaten by her father, especially when Clint turned when they both heard something at the door and fired an arrow into another arrow in the bull's eye without looking, Amelia was carefully pulling the arrows free, making sure to stand on the side to keep from stabbing herself in the stomach. (A/N: That is true. When pulling an arrow free, stand to the side of the arrow. If you stand behind it and jerk it loose, it can and will stab you. In fact, archery is one of the most dangerous sports mainly because of that.) "You did great," Clint commented as Amelia tugged the last arrow free.
"Thanks," she replied, grinning. "I thought I was going to do a lot worse."
"Don't doubt yourself like that," her father warned and walked with her to put the bows and arrows away.
Later that night, Amelia woke up suddenly, sitting up in bed. It was still dark out, so it took a while for her eyes to adjust. Suddenly, she slung her legs over the side of the bed, removing the blankets. She stood and stretched, heading to her door and silently opening it, closing it behind her when she entered the dark hallway. Silently, she crept along, taking extra precaution when passing her parents' bedroom, and headed toward the exit.
Carefully opening the door, she walked out onto the runway; suddenly wising she put on shoes and a jacket, the frosty air biting her skin. Amelia sighed, breath billowing slightly as she gazed around, hearing the ocean lap at the ship. Frowning, she tipped her head, confused on why she got up and left her warm room to go outside in the cold. "Hello, Амелия," a voice hissed behind her but before she could react, she felt something spark at the back of her neck and she crumbled, unconscious.
Jolting up in bed, Amelia swung her head around and relaxed when she realized she was still in her room, and the experience was just a dream. Sighing, she sat up slowly, and flinched when she felt a sting on the back of her neck. Rubbing her fingers along the place of the pain, she pulled them back but saw nothing, so she headed to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, she turned to the mirror and lifted up her hair, glancing back. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw a small burn on the back of her neck where Aaron had touched her in her dream. Letting her hair fall, Amelia staggered out, turning off the lights. "Это не хорошо," she muttered, gazing out the window and seeing the sun slowly rise above the ocean, turning the sky reddish pink. "Давайте посмотрим, как хорошо я могу скрывать, что."
Амелия = Amelia
Это не хорошо. = This is not good.
Давайте посмотрим, как хорошо я могу скрывать, что. = Let's see how well I can hide that.
And thank you, PJ-NCIS-TF-26!