I AM HORRIBLE. I'M SORRY.
The sound of gunfire woke them up. Both Hawkeye and The Black Widow jackknifing where they slept, guns drawn before their eyes even blinked open. Hawkeye was in the doorway as the Widow climbed out of the bed she had been asleep in seconds before. Natasha lurched out of bed in her yoga pants and red tee shirt, racing up the stairs to the first floor with Clint and Phil hot on her heels.
There was Marlo, the in charge guard, with three other masked men flanking him. They were open firing on the remaining guards who were barricading the staircase leading to the floor that housed Andres and Adalia's rooms.
Just as Clint and Natasha were silently creating a plan of attack, the gunfire stopped and Marlo's voice rang out through the silent house.
"Costa esta clara. Vamos." He said, finger pressed to the comm. link in his ear.
Coast is clear. Let's go.
Not more than a minute later, the door crashed open and none other than Diego Efraim strutted through with his own guards at his sides.
"Bring them." His voice boomed, ricocheting off the walls of the house. Two more of who Clint and Natasha previously believed to be Bartolome's guards, escorted Andres and Adalia into the room, pulling the little girl by a visibly too tight grip on her arm, while Andres thrashed, shouting obscenities at the person manhandleing his daughter.
"Sir," Marlo's voice rang out, a hint of fear coloring his tone. Efraim's head turned to his spy. "The agents that Bartolome brought in to guard him," he started. "They're gone. Su técnico , que lo consiguió . Pero los agentes están en el viento."
'Their technician, we got him. But the agents are in the wind.'
Clint's body lurched and he was only stopped from charging by Natasha's fist against his sternum.
"It's Phil," he hissed. Natasha leveled him with a glare that silenced him instantly but did nothing to calm him down.
Marlo, who had done nothing but attempt to intimidate Barton and Romanoff throughout their short employment, was cowering, shoulders hunched, eyes cast down toward Efraim's feet.
"En el viento…?" he repeated slowly. "En el viento?" he questioned louder.
"Si," Marlo said quietly.
"Halcón y la Araña están en el viento, y tu todavía está aquí?"
'The Hawk and the Spider are in the wind, and you are still here?'
Clint and Natasha both paled a little at that. So they were blown. Apparently had been since they'd walked through the door if Marlo knew who they were too.
Marlo scrambled back at that and motioned for the two guards behind him to follow him, all but sprinting up the stairs. Efraim smirked a slightly terrifying smirk and turned around slowly, brandishing his gun like a madman as he walked towards Adalia and crouched in front of her, so close that his nose was almost brushing hers. Adalia whimpered and Andres yelled incoherently. Efraim didn't move but looked around the room.
"La Araña Pequeñita, subió, subió, subió," he started to sing, gravelly, menacing. "Cayó la iluvia," Natasha rolled her eyes; he was so unoriginal. "Y se la ilevó, salió el sol, y todo lo secó, y la Araña Pequeñita." Natasha dropped her hand away from Clint's chest and stood, gun by her thigh, hand on her hip. "Subió, subió, subió." Efraim finished, standing as well and patting Adalia's head. "Ah, so nice of you to join us."
Natasha flashed him an unamused smile.
"Clara, ayudar," Adalia whimpered.
'Help,'
Natasha smiled at her.
"So Dear Araña, where is your partner?" He asked, squinting around the foyer.
Natasha knew without looking that Clint was already gone.
"En el viento," she smirked.
'In the wind,'
"Ah," Efraim pouted. "Well if you'd be so kind as to sit back for just a moment, I'll tend to you shortly." He drawled in a heavy accent as he turned and looked Andres in the eyes. "You, mi amigo, have something that belongs to me."
"It is not yours, nor will it be. Leave my daughter alone," Andres ordered. Efraim looked off to his right at one of his men and laughed, making a show of wiping his eyes.
Natasha froze and glanced up at the rafters where she knew Clint was most likely hiding. They needed to act quickly.
"Give me the blue prints," Efraim countered simply, shrugging one shoulder.
"No," Andres growled. Efraim regarded him as if he were an adorable child, cocking his head and without taking his eyes off Andres, moved his arm a quarter of an inch to the right, and fired with no warning whatsoever.
There was no scream, save from Andres, as Adalia's tiny body hit the ground with a sickening thud.
"Voy a matarte. Voy a destripar usted y forzar la alimentación que sus órganos, bastardo." He screamed. "Addie, Addie, no." he sobbed, collapsing to his knees, forcing the guard to come down with him.
Natasha hadn't seen that coming she should've seen that coming why didn't she see that coming?
Efraim yelling for the blueprints again shook her from the slight haze she'd fallen victim to and she drew her gun in front of her body, glancing around for her partner again.
Andres only sobbed in response to Efraim's repeated question.
The moment Natasha decided she was going to have to act on her own before Andres wound up shot like his daughter, three shots rang out in rapid succession and three guards dropped dead. Natasha absently noted that they made a louder thud than Adalia had.
It was all perfectly orchestrated after that, Barton taking out guards two at a time and Natasha ran forward, knocking Diego Efraim back. He caught himself on his hands and pushed himself back up to his feet before the rest of his body could hit the floor.
Bang.
The guard holding Andres fell to the ground and Andres collapsed along with, curling in on himself and sobbing his daughter's name.
The moment the last guard took a bullet between the eyes, Hawkeye dropped down from the rafters beside Natasha.
"Such a shame. She would've gone for quite a bit of money, that one." Efraim looked woefully at the little girl who lay dead in a pool of her own blood. Clint growled audibly at that.
"Ah, Halcón, such a pleasure." Efraim smiled. Clint's nose turned up in utter disgust.
"Our technician, where is he?" Clint pulled his bow a little tighter, leveling Efraim with a glare that had made better men crumble. Efraim shrugged. Natasha shifted her stance a little bit to brush her shoulder against Barton's in silent warning.
"Game over, Diego, those blueprints are long gone and a team is already evacuating your supply houses. Surrender to SHIELD or die." Natasha recited. Efraim only remained silent, eyes flitting up to the ceiling above Hawkeye and Black Widow's head. Clint acted before Natasha did, before the gun even went off, shoving her out of the way and taking the bullet in the stomach. "Hawkeye," Natasha called.
"Fine, get Efraim, I'll deal with these three." He shouted at her, grunting a little as he kicked out at one of the men surrounding him. Natasha reloaded her gun and ran out after Efraim, skidding around Andres's huddled body. He'd left the front door open in his escape, giving Romanoff the clear shot she needed to blow the tire of the car he was trying to drive away in. The car spun out, crashing into the fountain in the mansion's roundabout. Diego got out of the car with an infuriating smirk on his face, one arm down by his side, the arm holding the gun up, brandishing it wildly.
"La Araña Pequeñita, subió, subió, subió," he sang lazily. "I'm not going to surrender, Araña Dearest."
"Well then I am going to shoot you," Natasha replied simply and then, cutting off whatever Efraim would've said next by pulling the trigger a few times in rapid succession, unloading the clip into his chest. Efraim managed to stay upright for a few moments, staring at The Black Widow with confusion as if he couldn't believe she'd actually shot him, before he fell back, sliding down the marble pillar, leaving a smeared trail of blood along the stone. Natasha advanced towards him and planted her foot against his chest, watching as blood bubbled at his lips.
"Nunca más va a arruiner la vida de un niño, Monstruo." She hissed, pushing the toe of her boot into one of the bullet holes, eyes narrowing at his scream of pain as she whipped out her gun again firing one round into his head, not batting an eyelash as his blood sprayed across her face. She stared blankly at the dead child trafficker for another moment before jogging back inside to where Clint was fighting off the guards while defending Andres.
By the time Natasha had run back inside, Clint was twisting a knife in the arm of the only remaining guard, waiting patiently for his scream to die out before speaking.
"I'm going to ask again, and you are going to give me a straight answer. Where is the tech that came here with us?" Barton said slowly.
"In the…ah!" he yelled at another smaller twist of the dagger. "In the basement bathroom!" he yelled. Clint smiled with sarcastic gratefulness, pulling the dagger from the man's shoulder and pushing it into his neck.
"Efraim?" Clint asked, wiping the blood off his knife onto his cargo pants.
"Dead." Natasha responded simply. Barton nodded then jerked his head in the general direction of Andres.
"You babysit the guy while I go see if Coulson's sorry ass is still alive." Barton muttered. Natasha nodded and squinted a little at the overwhelming fear she saw in his eyes at the prospect of Coulson not being alive. Natasha dropped down next to Andres, crouching back on her heels and staring at the man who was only sobbing his daughter's name over and over again.
She sat and stared at him, not moving a muscle, as she waited for Barton to return. And eventually he did, Coulson slung over his shoulders in a fireman's carry.
"He's alive." Clint said gruffly. "More or less. Evac and clean up crew will be here in five."
They waited. Nobody spoke, nobody moved. The silence was only broken by Adalia's name being chanted brokenly between sobs until it was broken by the thundering footsteps of the clean-up crew. The evac team rolled in and took Phil from Clint, and pried Andres's body from his dead daughters, dragging him kicking and screaming. Barton and Romanoff were instructed to head back to the basement and clear out their things, as well as to wipe it down before following in the Quinjet they'd flown in.
They did as they were ordered for once, neither speaking a word to one another as they packed up theirs and Phil's things. It was all put back in the jeep in which they'd drive from the safe house to the mansion.
Clint had been watching Natasha out of the corner of his eye for the duration of the drive. Her hands were shaking, her face was pale and her jaw was so viciously clenched it looked like her teeth would shatter any second. They'd almost reached the safe house when she finally spoke.
"Stop the car."
"What?" Clint looked at her like she was insane.
"Stop the goddamn car Barton." She snapped. Clint turned the steering wheel hard to the right and slammed on the breaks. The moment the car came to a halt, the door was being thrown open and Natasha was on her hands and knees in the dead grass, vomiting what little she had in her stomach. Clint sighed and climbed out of the car, making his way around it and crouching behind her, gathering her hair in one hand and gripping her shoulder with the other. "Get off me, Barton." She growled, doing her best to shrug him off as she trembled.
"No, Tasha." He sighed. Before he really had a chance to fight back, he found himself on his back in the grass, a blade pressed against his throat.
"Do not call me Tasha."
"I'll call you whatever I damn well please, Natasha. And don't you think it's about time you call me Clint? We've only been working together a year and a half." He said dryly.
"And maybe, Barton, that should be the extent of our time together."
Clint arched a brow at her and she was suddenly flipped over on her back, the Hawk straddling her hips.
"What was that Romanoff? And I've had a pretty crappy day so if you tell me anything other than a straight answer, I might just stab you."
"Ukusi menya." She hissed. Barton squeezed her wrists together a little tighter.
"Addie, right? It's the girl?' he questioned, feeling a little triumphant when her walls flickered in her eyes.
"You better watch yourself Hawk."
"It wasn't your fault you know. You couldn't have known he'd actually shoot a child."
"He sells them. Why not shoot them?" she laughed in reply.
"You couldn't have known."
"It was my job to know."
"You did your job. You stopped Efraim."
"She was a child. A little girl. And she received the fate that should've been mine."
"You did your job Natasha." He repeated. Natasha stared at him then shoved him off of her and got to her feet, walking to the car. Clint sighed and stood, following her from a few feet away. She turned suddenly and stared her partner dead in the eye.
"Thank you," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Clint."
Barton nodded then froze, staring blankly at his Natasha for a moment before nodding again, sharper this time and climbing into the front seat of the jeep.
"Anytime Tasha." He smirked when she'd gotten back in the car.
"Do not call me Tasha."
end.
Love you all. Thank you for being patient with this story.
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