➵ for deltas ● you scared me i see the glint of stone but you never come through

[arches]

<sub>( The battle is not yet lost, but it will be, soon. Loki has managed to scatter the Avengers, unleashing the beast and hurtling his brother off the helicarrier. Whith the Chitauri descending upon New York, only Iron Man and the captain are left to stand against them. And what of the Widow? She weighs her priorities, and chooses her partner over the rest of the world. She goes after Hawkeye.

Not that he is aware of any of this. After escaping the helicarrier with his master, the enslaved agent has been standing guard, waiting for orders. He is underground, in the subways. Arrows and bow at the ready, he is the perfect soldier. His eyes, his most famed feature, glow an eerie, lifeless blue. He stands straight, moves with hollow and robotic motions. He is an empty shell.

And the real Clint Barton? He is locked away, somewhere. Surrounded by darkness and shadows, he is minimally aware of what is transpiring around him. Only hollowly conscious, he must have still felt it when the helicarrier crashed to earth. Must have felt Phil Coulson's dying breaths. Must have known the name of every agent he took out. But locked away as he is, he can do nothing, not even scream. )</sub>

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[deltas]

[Natasha moves like shadows. She owes him a debt, and every time another person dies she has to remind herself that it's not him. And when she managed to figure out how to stop whatever it was that had replaced him, they were going to kill Loki together. It was going to be worth it, even if it put more red in her ledger. She would enjoy every second of it, for what he'd done to Clint.

So she stalks him through the shadows, at the ready to attack. Not to kill, just -- cognitive recalibration, that sounded good. She wasn't in the best of shape, though, not after having fought the Hulk. But she was better than to let that stop her. Not now, when she was so close.

She drops down behind him, her gun out.]

Put down your bow.

[arches]

<sub>( If he recognizes her voice, he does not show it. He registers, briefly, that there is a target, and then his muscle memory takes over. he drops to the ground, sweeping his bow out like a staff. When he makes a circle, he aims the bow for her ankles, trying to topple her over.

Now that he has a better look at her, he can be sure. This is the one he was told to wait for. The Widow, Loki had called her. But when Barton had told him everything, had spilled his secrets and hers, he had called her Natasha. And Loki had been very clear about what was to be done with her. )</sub>

[deltas]

Fine, have it your way.

[But she's quick and she knows how he fights - it's an advantage, if only a slight one. She knows that too, that he could probably beat her if she's not careful, but she has to take her chances. Better that she fight him than someone else. Better that she let him live.

She jumps above the bow and kicks out at him, a fluid motion before landing on the ground, one hand touching it for balance.]

[arches]

<sub>( He doesn't respond, but lets out a grunt of pain as her kick hits. His resolve is hardened, however, and he yanks the bow back, drawing and firing in one fluid motion. One arrow, then two, and then he's scrambling back for higher ground.

This isn't the way he's supposed to do it. He's supposed to go in slow, cut her open at close range, and then make her suffer. He can hear Loki whispering the orders in his mind, a constant, repetitive flow. But he also knows how Natasha fights. And he knows himself, pale echo of Clint Barton that he is. He knows he has a better chance of defeating her if they're not in close range. )</sub>

[deltas]

[There isn't enough time to keep him close when she's avoiding those arrows, moving like a ballet dancer just to keep from getting hit, but after she does she follows, determined not to let him get away.]

Clint [she says his name like a supplication and it's a chance - she's half-afraid he won't respond at all and it scares her but she knows that sometimes she has to use her emotions to get what she wants] don't do this.

[but she doesn't stop moving, she can't afford to, she has to keep them close enough that his arrows are ineffective. She fires a warning shot. It's not supposed to hit.]

[arches]

<sub>( Natasha. Her name rings in his head when she says his name, and for a second, it's as though he might fight through this, might get out. He pauses, and shakes his head, wincing.

But it's as over as soon as it starts, and when opens his eyes they are that same, unnatural blue. If she insists on keeping it close, he can deal with that. He grabs an arrow from his quiver, aiming at the ground. If she steps forward, he can rig it to explode. And if he gets caught in that, who cares? Loki never intended him to survive this encounter, anyway. )</sub>

[deltas]

[The arrow causes her to stop. He's got too much trick arrows, too many things it could be. She's not quite ready to test that out. But she could see the way he shakes his head, the slight pause. Fine. She'd fight from her.

She keeps her gun level and pointed towards him. It was a ranged weapon, after all.]

This isn't you. You're better than this.

[arches]

_{( This time, he responds. )}

I am nothing.

_{( It's a true enough statement. There is no longer anything inside of him, not really. Or, if there is, it is buried to far down to be significant. She hasn't stepped forward, like he planned, but it doesn't matter. He detonates the explosive anyway, and as he's thrown back by the blast, he can only hope she is, too. )}

[deltas]

[It surprises her. Of course he'd be stupid enough to do it if he's being mind controlled, but the thought comes as she's flying backwards and she doesn't find enough balance to land on her feet correctly. She curses under her breath in Russian and feels around for her gun - evidently dropped.]

No. You're not. You're Clint Barton, Hawkeye, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.

[arches]

<sub>( Slowly. Intimately. Those threats become commands, now, as Hawkeye, also thrown back by the blast, picks himself up on the floor and advances on her. He got up as though he hadn't felt the past, as though the blood leaking from a cut on his forehead didn't phase him.

When she says his name, he barely shrugs. He knows it belongs to him, has all of his memories, somewhere. But they don't seem to matter. He can't feel them, can't connect to his own identity. So he leaps mechanically over the fissure created by the explosion, bow in hand.

And when he comes up to her, he reaches out, hands grabbing for her throat. )</sub>

He asked me, you know. All about you.

[deltas]

[She kicks out, aiming for his chest to try and push him away.]

Yeah, he told me. We had a nice chat.

[arches]

_{( He grabs her leg, instead, around the ankle. He twists, hard enough to hurt, perhaps break. )}

You could have let him take you, too.

[deltas]

[She grits her teeth in pain and moves to punch him in the face.]

You may be in his body, but you clearly don't know me if you think that's an option.

[arches]

_{( He rolls with the punch, but doesn't recoil. He'll have a shiner in the morning, if he lives that long. )}

Knowing you isn't really important.

_{( Muscle memory. That's all he has. And he knows the way Natasha moves, even now as he grabs for her shoulders and presses the weight of one arm down on her throat. )}

[deltas]

[Her free hand finds her gun in the mean time and she pulls it on him even as she can feel his arm on her throat. It's a feeling akin to drowning, but she isn't about to give into that.]

Bad idea.

[arches]

_{( He looks at the gun and lets out a rather harsh laugh. )}

You going to use that on me?

[deltas]

Right now it's starting to seem like a pretty good idea.

[please remove your arm from her throat that hurts]

[arches]

But you won't do it.

<sub>( He says this with absolute certainty. It's not that Natasha doesn't have it in her--of course, she does. But there is a balance between him, and if she kills him she'll never be able to even the score. Somewhere, though, Clint is wishing she would just shoot him, would take that over preserving this shadowed half-life. Just do it, Tasha, he thinks desperately, and something flickers in his eyes. End it before I do.

The hesitation lasts only a moment. Still pushing down on her windpipe, he grabs a knife from his belt and presses it against her cheek. )</sub>

What are you waiting for?

[deltas]

[She was about to pull the trigger, she really was, but the way he looks at her - that small flicker of desperation she can see even through the pain - makes her stop.

It's a look she never wants to see in his eyes again.]

I -- [but her words are caught in her throat, more because of the physical pain rather than the inability to talk. and then the feeling of his knife on her cheek --

Do something, Natasha, you're not an idiot. What does it matter if he's got Clint's face? Do something do something do something

She fires the gun, aiming for his shoulder. She'll apologize for it later, when they're both okay. Because they will be. They have to be.]

[arches]

<sub>( They're at such close range that the force of the shot pushes him back a way, but he grabs her hair to pull her forward, with him. The other hand drops the knife as it clutches his shoulder, as he grits his teeth against the pain and then fails to stop it, letting out a cry.

He recovers, quickly, biting down against the pain. But by the time he scrambles for the knife, he's already lost a few moments. )</sub>

[deltas]

[Being pulled by her hair is never fun but it happens, and she's dealt with it before. She throws a punch, aiming for the wound to distract him from the knife.]

[arches]

_{( It's hard to dodge when you're losing blood and in pain, but he tries, anyway. Her blow still lands, and he loses his grip on her hair. He stumbles, ends up braced on his palms on the floor. But, for some reason, he laughs. )}

Is there some version of this in your head, where you win?

i keep wanting to win this fight even though i know we're not writing that whoops

[deltas]

Yeah, there kind of is.

[She keeps her voice steady, even though she feels anything but it, and his laugh unnerves her. She moves to get away from him, still holding the gun at ready.]

You're not really in the best position to talk.

that just means you're channeling your inner tasha

[arches]

_{( He reaches out one hand, finally finds the knife. He pushes himself off his hands, though he's still on his knees. He looks at her, then, but his eyes are clouded. When he speaks, it's not with his own voice--or at least not with his own words. )}

Actually, I am. Because whether you kill me or I kill you, my mission is done. Either one would destroy you, in one way or another.

well it's a start!! it looks like you're channeling your inner loki there

[deltas]

[Those words, from his mouth, they're what finally make her skin crawl and make her stop. Not reacting, not taking the opportunity, but staying still. Stupid - it's terribly stupid.]