➵ 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>

Comments

[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.]

now is the time to panic

[arches]

_{( He kicks himself up with one foot, and lunges for her. The knife is aimed for her stomach, he's poised to wrap his other warm around her waist. )}

i am panicking

[deltas]

[It's a hit - oh god, it's a hit. And she fights to stay calm as she feels his arm around her waist (a mockery of a lover's gesture - why should she want to fall back into it?) forcing herself to stay calm but oh god

she fires the gun instinctively, but it's anyone's guess where the bullet is actually aimed.

damn it damn it damn it damn it]

flailing with you

[arches]

<sub>( Slowly, intimately.

If those words didn't pop up in his head, he would have slit her throat and been done with it. Instead, he leaves the knife where it is for a moment, twisting it before yanking it free of her flesh.

The bullet hits him in the leg. He lets out another mangled cry, but something in his brain overrides the pain and forces him to keep going. One arm still around her, he lowers them both to the floor--partly to take the strain off his leg, which is now searing with pain.

The hand he lifts to her face is bloody. But it lingers against her cheek for a moment, his expression blank but his eyes wild. )</sub>

screaming how can you do this to me

[deltas]

[Even through the pain, her body arches into his touch because it knows what this feels like, what it feels like to be underneath him, with him touching her like that.

But most of her brainpower is simply focusing on breathing calmly, trying to give away nothing. Be the Black Widow, Natasha.

The gun falls from her hand, the sound of it too loud against the ground. She makes a conscious effort, then, to move away from his hand, but it's a jerking motion in reaction to seeing his eyes like that and it makes her feel the wound more poignantly and she gasps from the pain.

She was going to kill Loki when she got out of here. She wasn't even going to waste her time to make it slow, a hundred bullets to his brain if she had to, emptying cartridge after cartridge if that's what it took. He damn well deserved it for what he was doing to Clint - for what he was doing to her.]

Get off. of me.

because i love you

[arches]

I can't do that.

<sub>( He means that in several ways. For one, his leg is all but useless, and he probably couldn't life himself off her even if he'd wanted to. There was the obvious fact that he was being controlled, and he didn't actually have control over anything he was doing. It was his skill, his training, and his connection to Natasha that were winning him this fight--but it was Loki's control that was making it happen.

But maybe there's something else. Maybe there's some small part of Clint Barton left in him, that remembers what it is like to touch her, to hold her, to embrace her. And maybe that part doesn't want to let go, even in this twisted scenario.

Clint Barton kills with arrows, from afar. He takes out his targets before they know that's what they are, and they don't feel pain. An arrow through the heart, through the head, through the throat--no time to think. But this isn't like that, at all.

Because now Clint is taking the knife, already soaked in Ntasha's blood, and lifting it to her throat. This will not be quick and painless, rather-- slowly, intimately. The orders echo through his skull. )</sub>

i love you too but i don't think that's an appropriate response

[deltas]

Then do it quickly.

[Her voice is steeled as she watches him. But she knows, because Loki told her the plan. And quick wasn't it.]

[arches]

<sub>( The knife moves from her neck to trace her cheeks, one by one. It lingers beneath one eye, and then against her lips.

He remembers the first time he saw her. He remember that she was the only target he'd ever missed. Had that just been a delay? Had they been living on borrowed time since then, so that this moment was inevitable?

He loves her. Has loved her, since that moment he saved her life. But all that emotion is being squeezed, pressurized, and warped. He's allowed to feel it, all too keenly, because that makes this worse.

He digs the knife into the spot where her neck meets her shoulder. )</sub>

[deltas]

[She tries to bite back a scream - desperately clinging onto everything she knows about staying calm, but it escapes her lips as the knife digs in and she can no longer hold it back.

But she wasn't just going to lay down and die for him, and she moves her free hand to push on his shoulder, though between the two wounds there's not much force left in her.]

[arches]

<sub>( When she pushes him her touch shocks him. He pulls away, yanking the knife out with him. The damage is done, however: without attention, that wound could kill her.

That realization ripples through him, and he blinks. His eyes clear, for a moment. )</sub>

Natasha?

[deltas]

[Her instinct is to believe it isn't him at all, just another torture thought up by Loki for her last few minutes, but then, no. She can see it - in his eyes, in the way he says her name.]

Hey, you.

[Her voice is strained though she fights to keep it even. Don't freak out, Clint, don't freak out.]

Good to have you back.

[arches]

_{( He shakes his head, viciously, like he's trying to knock something out of it. He looks down at his hands, at the knife and at his red-stained fingers. )}

Nat...

_{( The knife clatters to the ground, and he falls backwards, his palms hitting the floor hard. It's only after that that he can bring himself to look at her. )}

No.

[deltas]

Stay calm for me.

[There's a quiver to her voice, and she bites back a wince.]

I-I need to you to be calm, and go [where? could he even get back with a first aid kit in time to save her?] No. Forget that. Just stay here with me.

[she realizes that her whole body is shaking now, and she wills it to stop that right now, because Clint still has to live, he has to live through this and this is not what she is leaving him as a going away present.]

Just another minute, okay? And then go put an arrow through his head for me.

[arches]

No, I-- I--

<sub>( His brain isn't working right, not the way he wants it to. It's jumping around, showing him things he's done, snatches of memory of arrows fired and the hellicarrier crashing and Loki giving him orders that he didn't once try and disobey.

He runs his hands over his face and just ends up smearing it with her blood. )</sub>

...'Tasha, you're going to...

<sub>( Be alright? What a foolish thing to say. Hawkeye doesn't miss a target, and if he stabbed her he's bound to have hit at least one vital organ.

He shakes his head the entire time she speaks, and then just drags himself over to her and puts his head in her lap, one hand against the wound. )</sub>

What did I do?

_{( Rhetorical. He knows what he did. )}

[deltas]

Don't. It wasn't you. Promise me you won't forget that. Promise me that...

[she reaches over to touch him.]

Right now, Clint. I'm serious.

[arches]

How can you even say that? You can't expect me to--

_{( His voice breaks off. He may be slightly hysterical, because he laughs, then, so bitterly. )}

[deltas]

Damn it, just [she closes her eyes tight against the pain, and bites the inside of her mouth.]

Take care of yourself.