Archive of Our Own

Sunday, 11:58p.m.; McGreddy’s Bar

The bar was packed tonight, filled to the walls with sweaty, drunk people rubbing elbows with each other. On any other day, you would’ve avoided a place like this, but it was the closest location where you could have access to an absurd amount of alcohol and you were very desperate to get yourself as numb as possible to the overwhelming feelings of being dumped out of the blue by your girlfriend of half a year. By text message, no less. Not even a phone call, the coward.

Granted, you were going to break up with her soon, but you weren’t going to be a coward about it… it still hurt.

You were halfway done with your second drink when you overheard someone convince the overly drunken man sitting in the stool next to you to leave, glancing towards the new face to have you choking on your drink when you saw her smile at you.

“Are you okay?” Her smile faded away into concern as you coughed against the burning in your throat, holding up a thumb to let her know that you’ll be fine… eventually. She laughed softly as she ordered a drink from the bartender.

You hid behind your glass, embarrassment flushing your face. You took another sip, small enough that you wouldn’t choke on it. You cleared your throat, avoiding eye contact with the beautiful woman.

“So, what brings you to this disgusting bar?” You glanced at her briefly, noticing that she got the same drink as you did as she brought it to her lips. She noticed your pursed lips, releasing a sigh after she swallowed the liquid. “I just got laid off.” You turned your head towards her, eyebrows furrowed. “I worked there for three years and they fired me for budget cuts.” She scoffed, shaking her head angrily.

You looked away, staring at the wall of alcohol on the other side of the bar as you said, “I just got dumped.”

“Well, he’s dumb,” she stated.

You chuckled. “She, actually,” you corrected, looking at her face this time. Her blue eyes stared at you with softness, her black hair forming a frame of curls around her perfect face. “We dated for almost half a year and she broke up with me over text.”

“Text? People can be such cowards.”

You smiled. “You’re right about that,” you agreed. “She didn’t even answer her door when I went to confront her.”

The woman rolled her eyes, shaking her head with disgust. “Seems like we’re both in desperate need to be here.” She sent you a warm smile.

You nodded as you looked over at your phone, resting silently by your hand, the screen blank with no new messages, no missed calls, and the woman next to you scoffed. She reached over, snatching your phone away from you and you were immediately on the defensive.

“Continuously looking at your phone is not going to get her to answer.” She shut the phone off and placed it back onto the bar. “You came here for a distraction, did you not? Something to… numb yourself?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. This wasn’t something you wanted to continue discussing, but she did have a point. You changed the subject, “Do you live around here?”

“My apartment isn’t too far from here,” she stated. “Lived here my entire life. You?”

“I moved here about three years ago for my job,” you told her.

“Oh? What do you do?”

“I work IT at Roxxon Corporation.”

“Wow. Color me impressed.” She chuckled lightly and you couldn’t help but puff up with pride.

You took another sip of your drink as you casually shrugged off her words, the woman eyeing the almost empty cup before gesturing for the bartender for two more drinks.

“Uh, no, I’m good,” you stated. “I didn’t plan on getting drunk tonight.” That was a lie, you definitely planned that, but you didn’t want to seem like a desperate fool in front of the gorgeous woman.

“Oh, please.” The woman waved you off as the bartender placed two more glasses in front of the two of you before he moved on to more customers. “It’s on me.” She quickly finished her first drink, picking up the second one and holding it out to you.

You stared at her for a moment before picking up the new glass and clinking it against hers, not breathing until it was empty. Her laughter vibrated through you as she motioned for the bartender once more. Your attention was drawn away from her when you heard a commotion from somewhere behind you, watching a woman separate two drunk men before they started a bar fight.

“We deserve this!” the woman exclaimed, dragging your attention back to her. “My job can go fuck themselves!”

“Yeah!” You nodded, taking your fourth drink and raising it up in the air. “Fuck cowardly girlfriends!” The whole bar cheered with you as you clinked glasses with the woman once more before downing the searing liquid.

The bartender placed your fifth glass in front of you and you stared at it, eyebrows furrowed as your head swam. You blinked, but your eyes didn’t want to seem to open back up until you felt her elbow bump against you.

“Are you okay?” You grinned at her concern, your hand absentmindedly wrapping around the glass in front of you.

“You’re so pretty,” you said, furrowing your eyebrows. “Ugh, you’re so kind, too. I’m sure you would take real good care of me.” You couldn’t stay still, your body swaying along with your mind. You couldn’t seem to focus. Were you really drunk after four drinks? Normally, you could outlast the biggest man in this kind of place.

She placed a hand on your wrist, gently pulling you away from the glass. “Maybe we should slow down a bit, Y/N.”

“Nonsense! You said it yourself, pretty lady,” you stated, feeling her release your wrist as you went back to the glass. “We deserve this.”

“I got some better alcohol at my place, then,” she expressed and you paused, your cup halfway to your mouth. “More expensive, too. Might as well take advantage of my company’s credit card before they cancel it on me.” You looked at her, raising an eyebrow as you placed the cup back down onto the bar.

“You… have my interest.”

She chuckled softly as she handed the bartender a credit card, paying for her drinks and yours. “Good. Because I plan on taking real good care of you.”

She guided you out of the bar, making sure you stayed on your two feet as the two of you and walked down the street. And she was right, her apartment wasn’t that far. You had only walked a block or two before she led you into a building, pressing an elevator and gestured for you to get on.

You hummed along with the beeping as the elevator took you up, floor by floor, before finally reaching the top. Your jaw basically hit the floor when the elevator doors opened, revealing the entire floor as her apartment. Whatever job she had clearly paid well if she owns the whole top floor.

You felt her grab your wrist and lead you further into the penthouse, your eyes wandering the place and soaking in all the expensive collectibles as much as you can while you pass it. You felt like you were on a cloud, floating through the air as she pulled you along.

She released you when she guided you through the doorway of her bedroom, letting you walk deeper into it so she can close the door behind you with a soft click. Your eyes widened at the size of her bedroom, barely registering her wrapping her arms around you and trailing her lips up your neck.

“This place is huge!” you expressed and she hummed against your throat. “It’s definitely bigger than my apartment.”

She moved to stand in front of you, picking up your hands and placing them on her hips. You made eye contact with her, now aware of what she was doing. “You can take a walk around the place if you want, but I feel like it’s about to get much more interesting here in the bedroom.”

You felt yourself lean against her and you couldn’t tell if you were doing that willingly or if that was the alcohol. It didn’t matter. You were getting laid tonight and you were pretty sure you weren’t going to remember it. What could possibly go wrong?

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Monday, 8:17a.m.; Bar Lady’s Penthouse

You floated on the edge of consciousness, rolling over in the bed underneath the smooth covers resting over you. Your arm worked on its own, reaching out to wrap around the person your body sensed resting next to you, your hand sliding across her stomach with the help of a warm, sticky substance that caused you to fully wake up.

Your eyes slowly opened, a small smile resting on your face when you saw the woman from the bar, vaguely remembering what happened, but if you’re inside her bed, the end result was definitely good… despite being fully clothed.

You rubbed your fingers together, slick and wet. You furrowed your eyebrows, picking your hand up to see what was on it and feeling your stomach drop when you saw the blood. You sat straight up, your heart hammering against your ribcage as you looked at the woman. She wasn’t sleeping… she was dead.

Blood covered her stomach and chest, staining the white blankets the two of you rested on. You quickly climbed out of the bed, immediately falling to the ground and bumping your head against the nightstand. Pain throbbed through you as you climbed to your feet, your breath catching in your throat as you stared, wide-eyed, at the deceased woman, her eyes closed peacefully. One would think she’d be sleeping - which you had thought - if it wasn’t for the obscene amount of blood covering her.

You instinctively reached for your phone but thought better of it. All the evidence pointed towards you, you’d be convicted without a second glance. You had to think. What would the people on TV do?

Erase any evidence that you were here. Yet that would erase all the evidence of the actual killer… Still, you couldn’t take any chances. You didn’t want to go to jail despite it even only being for a small amount of time while they tracked down the killer. If they even did that. If they’re absolutely sure you killed this woman, they’d close the case and you’d be screwed.

Your stomach twisted as you looked down at your blood-soaked hand and you found yourself in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet and emptying everything in your system. You’ll have to clean the toilet bowl now since you got blood on it, but that’s only a small thing compared to the bedroom.

After washing the blood off your hand and rinsing your mouth out, you took a moment to breathe, turning to look out the window. You pushed it open, sucking in the fresh air. Did you kill that woman? Your thoughts were so foggy, you can’t remember anything after meeting her at the bar. You couldn’t have killed her. No, you were positive you didn't… right?

You were all the way on the top of the building. If you were brave enough and didn’t want to get caught leaving behind a dead body, you could climb out the window and walk along the ledge…

You quickly made your way back to the bedroom, pausing at the door as you looked at the scene of the crime. The once beautiful nature of the room was now obscure, all the furniture and collectibles were tossed around. It was remarkable how you had slept through what happened in this room, looking as if an actual tornado came through.

It was clear the woman did not die on the bed, though it did look like she did put up one hell of a good fight against whoever it was that killed her. You wonder if she even got close to winning. But there was still one question that remained: why didn’t they kill you?

You shook your head. You could think about that later.

It shouldn’t be too hard cleaning this mess up. You remember what the room looked like post-tornado… no you didn’t. You were drunk and everything was foggy after meeting the woman. You don’t even remember seeing the giant ass window for crying out loud.

You closed your eyes and took a couple deep breaths, inhale, exhale. Just wing it.

You started cleaning up, wiping the blood off of the hard floor and putting the furniture where you’d think it would go. You couldn’t really do anything about the broken pieces but throw them away and hope nobody notices right away.

Ignoring the mess for a second, you rushed to the nightstand, picking up your phone and unlocking it with shaking hands. You brought up your contacts… and froze. You’re going to have to leave the city, maybe even the country. Where would you even go? You can’t tell anybody about this, not even your closest friends or family. They’d become an accessory and that’s the last thing you need. What if-

Your thoughts were cut off when you heard footsteps coming from behind the closed bedroom door. Your heart picked up speed as you started to freak out. You weren’t even close to being done cleaning up! You had to hide.

Oh! It could be the killer. This could be your escape - catch the killer is all you have to do. Then you can call the police and your hands would be clean.

As quietly as you can, you shoved your phone into your pocket and moved yourself to hide behind the door when it opened, tiptoeing across the hard wood, avoiding all the broken pieces of furniture, and settling against the wall. You strained your ears, listening as the footsteps came closer, the doorknob twisting and the door pushing open slowly.

You waited with bated breath, pushing yourself further into the wall until someone came into view, hopping out of your spot to jump onto their back. You didn’t get very far with your plan as they immediately flipped you off of them, slamming you onto the ground and pinning your arm against your back roughly. You groaned in pain.

“Who the hell are you?” It was a woman’s voice, deadly and with authority. She knew what she was doing. She was definitely the police.

“I know it looks bad, but I didn’t do this,” you stated, wincing in pain against her hold. “You’re also really hurting my shoulder.”

Her grip loosened a tad bit, giving you some reprieve, but she still kept you pinned down. She looked around, seeing the half-cleaned room and she sighed. You didn’t do a very good job at cleaning up, your rushed, panicked movements were obvious.

“If I let you go, are you going to try to attack me again?” You quickly shook your head, releasing a relieved breath when she released you. You climbed to your feet, flexing your shoulder to try and get rid of the stiff pain, and you turned to look at the woman.

If you had thought the woman from the bar was the most beautiful woman, you would’ve been wrong. This woman made the bar lady look like… average. In the nicest way possible. There’s no comparing anybody to this woman without being rude, she looks like a goddess. Her short red hair, her shallow, green eyes, the “I could kill you in more ways than you could possibly imagine” vibe she radiated, pure perfection.

You didn’t realize she was speaking to you until she snapped her fingers in your face, pulling you out of your thoughts. You blinked. “What?”

“Did you kill her?”

You honestly forgot there was a dead body behind you. Your late response to the woman only made you more suspicious to her, a small smirk resting on her face when you denied her claims. “I… I just woke up and she was… dead.” You hated how pathetic you sounded, blabbering like an idiot in front of this gorgeous woman. At least you weren’t covered in snot or vomit. That would’ve made this situation so much worse.

“I believe you.” There was something in her tone that made you believe that that was a lie. But you couldn’t challenge her, she was already speaking again, “I can help you clean up. It’s the least I can do.”

“Wait, you're… not the police?” You really don’t know whether or not to be relieved by that. The police would be more comforting than a stranger, but they would also be arresting you. And why was this stranger so calm? There’s a dead body for crying out loud! “Who the hell are you?”

She pursed her lips, contemplating whether or not she wanted to tell you her name. It caused you to roll your eyes. It’s not like you’re asking her to confess her deepest, darkest secrets. You just wanted her name! Literally any name would be fine, you didn’t care. You just wanted something to call her besides “beautiful woman”.

She noticed your annoyance at her hesitation. “What’s your name?”

Alright, fair enough. Maybe names aren’t a good idea in front of a dead body. That way, neither of you could turn the other in. “Let’s just clean this mess up and then we can go out separate ways.”

She nodded one tight nod before she strutted past you, venturing further into the room. She peeked into the bathroom for a brief moment, as if taking a second to clear the area. You couldn’t help but wonder why she was here if she wasn’t the police. And you still wanted to know how the hell she’s so calm.

“Did you know her?” The woman turned to look at you, head tilting in brief confusion before you clarified, “The dead woman.” You didn’t even know the bar lady’s name. How ignorant. She knew your name despite not remembering ever giving it to her. You were drunk, it could’ve slipped out.

“No.” It was an automatic answer, one she clearly regretted when her face scrunched up. She sighed, turning her head to look at you. “You want my entire backstory or are we going to clean this mess up?”

You huffed. Her being beautiful doesn’t excuse her rude behavior. You silently continued cleaning in spite of your stomach performing more flips, nausea running through you once again. You struggled to fight it off, though just the coppery smell of all the blood made you dizzy.

There was a beep coming from the front of the apartment, turning around in time to see a small group of people piling off the elevator. You were frozen in your spot, the woman quickly rushing past you to close the bedroom door. She looked around the room as she leaned against the door, turning the lock behind her as her eyes were frantic.

“Who is it? The police?” You found yourself becoming more favorable over the stranger than the police. At least she wasn’t trying to pin the murder on you. The police would’ve already made that assumption.

She hushed you impatiently, stepping away from the door as her eyes continued to search the room. She’s looking for a way out, but she wasn’t going to find one. The only window in the room was a part of the wall, no way to open it. And the bathroom wasn’t really a good choice, either. You saw her eyes travel towards the bathroom and you already saw the plan forming on her face.

“No.” You shook your head, crossing your arms to punctuate your disapproval. “Hell no.”

“Would you rather be dead, too?"

You stared at her, rubbing your hands together nervously. "Heights… aren’t really my thing.”

She rolled her eyes as she gestured for you to go to the bathroom, grabbing your forearm when you refused to go. But the two of you didn’t get very far before the bedroom door was kicked open, forcing her to tug you behind a piece of broken furniture. You covered your head when the intruders started shooting aimlessly, having no idea where you were, but just that you were here.

“Why are they shooting?” you shouted over the gunfire, turning your head to look at the woman. Your eyes widened as she cocked the pistol in her hands. “Why are you shooting back?”

“I don’t plan on dying here,” she told you. “Do you?” You quickly shook your head and she sent you a grin before peeking her head out from behind your cover to shoot some bullets towards the intruders.

You continued to duck behind the cover, your body shaking and trembling with fear. How did you end up here? You were just dealing with a breakup, using a one night stand to cope with the loss, and now you were in the midst of a gunfight.

She pulled herself back down behind the cover and she looked at you as she reloaded her gun. “Alright, I’m going to cover you,” she stated as you looked back at her, “you’re going to run to the bathroom.”

“Are you insane?” You shook your head, humming your dissatisfaction with the new plan. She sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m not going to risk getting shot.”

“Alright, fine.” She flipped the gun in her hand, holding the handle out to you. “You cover me and I’ll make it to the bathroom.”

You stared at the gun for a moment before looking back up at her. “So, you’ll cover me?”

“Yes, I’ll cover you.”

You nodded as she readjusted the gun in her hand, her head turning away to hide the humorous grin forming on her face. You forced yourself to slow your breathing as she looked back at you, waiting for the intruders to stop shooting so they can reload, then sending you a nod.

She stood up, firing in their direction as you quickly crawled to the bathroom. Your heart felt like it was about to leap out of your chest, feeling it in your throat as you rounded the corner into the bathroom, leaning against the wall as you breathed quickly to catch your breath. You could still hear the gunshots, a gasp overtaking you when someone ran into the bathroom shortly afterwards, and you managed to calm yourself down when it was just the woman.

She closed the door, flicking the lock as if that was going to stop them. “We have to go.” She tucked her gun into her waistband and gestured to the window.

You groaned as you got to your feet. “I want you to know that I think this is a bad idea.”

“I’m aware, come on.” She let you climb out of the window first and you don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, to be honest. You stepped onto the ledge, a little bit wider than your whole foot, and you scooted to the side so she could join you. You kept your back flush against the wall.

“Now what?”

“Don’t look down.” She gestured for you to follow her with her head, inching away from the bathroom window. You froze, watching her scoot away and you jumped when you heard the bathroom door get kicked open. Boy, these people sure do love kicking doors.

You followed her, passing the opened window and just narrowly missing being grabbed by one of the intruders. You felt like you were going to vomit, the woman being a good distance ahead of you.

Don’t look down. Simple advice. One that you were tempted not to follow. The urge to look down overwhelmed you and you froze once more when you saw the street miles below you. You swallowed the thick saliva forming in your mouth, picking your head up and pressing the back of it to the building behind you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone step out of the bathroom window, joining you on the ledge. You knew you had to move, but you couldn’t find the power to walk.

You visibly flinched when you felt someone touch your forearm, squeezing your eyes shut at the contact. This was it. This was how you died.

“Hey, you can do this.” You felt yourself relax at the woman’s voice, your eyes slowly opening as you found the ability to breathe properly. “Come on. We don’t have that much further to go.” Looking into her eyes, the depth of them you couldn’t find earlier, but you allowed yourself to get lost in them, as if falling into a swimming pool of green. And she was still so calm despite the pressure of one of the intruders coming from the other side of you. She needed to rush you, but at the same time she couldn’t.

She took a step forward, her hand still resting gently on your forearm, and you managed to muster up the courage to follow her, not wanting her to let go of you. The two of you continued at a steady pace, the man behind you hurrying to catch up. He clearly didn’t seem to care that you were seemingly millions of feet in the air.

She had to release you when you reached the corner of the building, watching as she disappeared from your view. You continued forward, pushing through the fear building in your chest.

You had just rounded the corner, the redhead waiting just on the other side, a small smile lifting her lips and you felt that moment of pride make you puff out your chest, but that moment didn’t last very long before the man behind you grabbed onto your wrist, tugging you back to him. Your eyes widened, showing the fear you were trying to hide, and the smile washed off the woman’s face.

You pulled against the man’s grip and he unexpectedly released you, the force of your pull sending you flying forward, off the ledge. You would’ve plummeted to your death if the woman didn’t have quick reflexes, falling to her knees and catching your hand. You were swinging in the air, having no clue how she was capable of holding onto you without falling off the small ledge herself.

“Please- Please don’t drop me,” you begged and she gritted her teeth, clearly using all of her strength to prevent just that. You released a squeal when you felt yourself fall further an inch, looking up to see her trying to dodge the man while at the same time holding onto you.

This was not going to end well.

She pulled you up just high enough, ordering you to grab onto the ledge. Your free hand swung up, gripping the extension. You felt her release your hand when she saw that you had a good grip, immediately grabbing onto the ledge while she got to her feet.

She put all her focus onto the man, stepping over your fingers carefully as the two fought expertly on the ledge of the building. You adjusted your grip, already feeling your fingers starting to slip. The ledge was smooth, nothing really to latch onto firmly, and you don’t really know how much longer you could hold on.

“Hey-”

“I’m a little busy right now!”

Your eyes casted down, watching the tiny cars drive on the street below you. You gulped, picking your head up and squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m aware that you’re busy, ma'am, but I… I’m slipping.”

You opened your eyes in time to see her get pushed back by the man, your stomach going into your throat as one of her feet slipped off the ledge. She caught herself, though, and you felt a momentary state of relief… until you felt your fingers being forcefully pried off of the ledge.

“Dude, what?” You tried to fight against his prying, moving your hand whenever he tried to force your hand off the ledge. He seemed to get fed up with the games, taking both of your wrists into his hands and removing your hands.

He laughed victoriously, his tight grip loosening around your wrists. This was how you were going to die.

Suddenly, the man was gone. Flying past you, screaming as he plummeted to the ground. You felt a new grip on one of your wrists before you could follow the man, looking up to see the woman. You helped her pull you back to your feet, huffing heavily in sync with her.

“Can we please get off the ledge now?” you questioned and she nodded, motioning for her to follow her once more.

You reached another window to the penthouse, being thankful that the window was unlocked. It’s understandable, there’s not really a logical threat that could be outside this high up.

You climbed back into the penthouse behind the woman, into a completely different part of the place. She dragged you behind a couch, watching her peek around it to eye a couple of the clueless intruders. They didn’t know their friend failed, that he was lying dead on the ground below them.

She crouched back down and looked at you. “Alright, there’s one of them blocking the exit and two of them walking around.”

You stared at her. “Let’s just sneak past them.” You furrowed your eyebrows when she shook her head. “No? What do you mean no?”

“We have the element of surprise,” she stated. “We should take advantage of that and take them out.” She dropped to a knee, getting into a more comfortable position as she continued, “It’ll be better than getting caught off guard.”

“You’re saying we like I’m going to be able to do anything,” you expressed, shaking your head. “Look, I almost died from your last plan. The least you could do is try my plan.”

She gritted her teeth. The choices here were clear for you, either you die from her or from the intruders. Either way, you’re going to die by the end of the day. But you’d like to think you can make it past lunch, at least. “Fine,” she declared through her clenched jaw. “We’ll go with your plan.”

“Thank you.” You sent her a smile. She stared at you, raising an eyebrow, and your smile faded away. “What?”

“It’s your plan,” she said, “you’re taking the lead.”

“Oh, no, I’m not-”

Your voice caught in your throat when she pulled out her gun, the clip sliding out so she could count the bullets, shoving it back in and cocking it. “My plan is always on the table.”

“Alright, fine. Follow me.” You crouched your way to the edge of the couch, peeking around it to get your bearings.

The exit would have been a straight shot if it weren’t for the three men watching an exit, waiting for word from the fourth man that they were never going to get. There was a line of pillars going towards the door, large enough for you and the woman to fit behind without being seen. The first pillar was a few feet away from the couch. It’ll get you closer to the exit, but you have to time it right and hope one of the men doesn’t spot you.

The woman who owns - well, owned - the apartment had very odd tastes now that you’re not drunk. There seemed to be collectibles from all different kinds of centuries, clashing together unpleasantly. Hell, there was even an antique log suspended in the air by a rope. How the bar lady managed to get it that high up was beyond you.

The woman followed you to hide behind the pillar, barely managing to slide out of view when one of the men turned around. You breathed out, relieved, and the woman pressed tightly close to you. Suddenly, you forgot how to breathe.

“Now what?” she questioned.

You sighed. The next pillar was further away than the couch was. You had to time this perfectly. You were starting to regret convincing her to go along with her plan. Maybe it wasn’t too late to change your mind.

You peeked around the pillar, watching the man closest to you turn his back to you and you quickly ran to the next pillar, the woman close on your heels, but you forgot to account for the other man.

“Hey!” He raised his gun at you, thankful that the woman was already prepared for your plan to go south. She pulled her own gun out and shot the man down before he could pull the trigger.

The man closest to the two of you managed to catch the woman off guard, knocking her pistol from her hands. The gun slid far behind her, out of reach from both of them. She managed to catch his wrist before he whipped his pistol across her face, twisting his arm and letting the gun fall to the floor.

The man kicked the gun away from her when she tried to pick it up and it skated across the floor, bumping against your shoe. You didn’t worry about it, you knew the woman could handle the man with ease, you saw evidence of her fighting skills outside on the ledge. But what you didn’t account for was the third man, the one watching the door.

He ran to join the fight, clearly oblivious to you behind the pillar, as he picked up his gun to aim at the fighting duo, trying to get a good shot of the woman. You silently groaned to yourself, bending down to pick up the pistol firmly in your hand. The gun was heavier than the man made it seem, but you quickly got used to the weight as you snuck up on the third man. You lifted your hand and smacked the butt of the gun against the back of his head as hard as you can.

The man pulled the trigger as he went down, bullets spraying along the floor and up the wall, narrowly missing the woman and the man dueling. But the gunfire caused distraction to the woman, her head snapping towards you to make sure that you’re okay, and the man took advantage of that and wrapped her arms around her neck tightly, fishing a knife out of his pocket and flicking it open, holding it taut against her throat.

“Put the gun down,” the man ordered, “or I’ll slice her neck open.” His grip was rigid on the hilt of the pocket knife and you didn’t even realize you had the gun pointed at him until he told you to put it down. But when he realized that your hands were too shaky to keep the pistol aimed true, he laughed wholeheartedly. “You’re kidding me.” You looked towards the woman, desperate for her confirmation.

“Just put the gun down,” she said, clearly not trusting you. You don’t blame her, the amount of shaking your hands are doing right now, you might as well be doing jazz hands.

You quickly nodded, moving to put the gun down, but you accidentally pulled the trigger. Everybody in the room flinched - though not as bad as you - and you looked towards the woman. She wasn’t shot, but neither was the man. Though, he did let her go, yet they were both dazed from the nearly getting accidentally shot part that neither of them moved for a solid moment.

You immediately placed the gun onto the floor, hands going into the air, but it was too late. The damage was already done.

The bullet may not have hit either of them, but it did knick the rope holding up the rather large log that was suspended in the air. And while the man was too busy laughing, the woman saw what was about to happen after looking over her shoulder. She stepped further away from the man as the rope began to fray from the pressure of the log.

“You missed!” the man laughed. You watched in absolute horror when the rope snapped, the man’s laughter getting cut off as the log landed on him. You turned away immediately as the woman moved to pick up her gun, tucking it into her waistband.

“I liked your plan,” she commented as you slowly blinked. “We should do your ideas more often."

"I… I killed him.” Your eyes wide, you felt sick to your stomach.

She patted you on the shoulder as she passed you, leaving the penthouse.

You weren’t far behind.

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Monday, 11:01a.m.; Zummo’s Cafe

You were too busy trying to keep the contents of your stomach down to try and listen to the muffled conversation from the woman on the other side of the small coffee shop. She had bought you a hot drink no matter how many times you told her not to - your stomach won’t handle it, you will barf it back up. You did hold onto it, though, the warmth of the mug was somewhat relaxing.

You couldn’t get the last hour out of your mind, replaying it over and over like a broken record. Your eyes darted around the joint, having settled into the corner to keep an eye on the people around you, looking towards the door every time the bell above it rang when it was opened. What if someone knew exactly what you had gone through and decided to call the cops? You’re not fit for this life. You’re just an IT tech, for crying out loud!

Okay. Deep breaths. You’ll be fine. You can separate yourself away from this woman now that everything is behind you. You can just forget it all ever happened, move on with your life, go back to work, being newly single. It will be fine.

“Hey.” You jumped, a gasp constricting your throat as your eyes focused on the woman who had slid into the booth in front of you. So much for keeping an eye on the people around you. You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even realized she walked right in front of you to sit down. “You know, you’re really good at that.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, a tad bit annoyed. You weren’t good at anything as far as you knew. “Good at what?”

“Acting scared and on edge,” she commented. She noticed you didn’t drink any of your drink, prying the mug out of your hands and taking a sip. You didn’t protest, she could have it. “It’s okay, you don’t have to act in front of me. I won’t tell anybody you killed that woman.”

“I’m not acting,” you declared defensively. “I’m genuinely scared.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “And I didn’t kill anybody.” Besides that one man who got crushed by the log. There’s no possible way he survived that. What a way to go out. Pulverized by ancient log. But it was a pure accident. “Purposely,” you added.

“Okay, sure,” she stated, shrugging casually. “Still, your secret is safe with me.” She smiled a warm smile behind the mug as she took a sip of the steaming liquid.

You rolled your eyes. There’s no use in arguing with her, you’re never going to see her again after this. And if she’s true to her word, there’s really nothing to be worried about anyway. “Whatever,” you mumbled, looking away from her. Although, you couldn’t deny her teasing got your mind off the situation at hand despite it being the topic. “Look, now we can go out separate ways, right?"

You looked towards the TV as she responded to your question, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you saw security footage of you and the woman leaving the penthouse, the footage freezing so they can zoom in on you and her. At least they weren’t displaying your names.

You tapped the table impatiently, trying to get her to shut up for a moment. "We need to go.”

“What?”

Your eyes darted towards the door when the bell rang. You straightened your form, frozen in your seat, as two officers casually entered the shop. “We really need to go,” you whispered hastily, climbing out of the booth.

She confusingly protested against your demands, but you standing up caused one of the officers to look towards you, squinting his eyes when he spotted you. You honestly don’t even know why you stood there, maintaining eye contact with the cop, but it didn’t take him much longer to recognize you. Especially when his eyes flickered to the redheaded woman who was still arguing with you about leaving.

“Hey!” the officer called out, but you were already grabbing onto the woman’s wrist and tugging her out of the booth, pulling her along as you weaved your way through the back quickly, avoiding the employees. The officers continued to call for you, not too far behind.

The second the two of you went through the staff exit and into the semi-vacant employee parking lot, the woman gestured for you to help her move the dumpster in front of the door.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she muttered as your face contorted into disgust, wiping your dumpster-infected hands onto your pants. You looked at the woman to see her scrolling through her phone. “We can’t stay here. We need somewhere to go for a moment. Out of the public eye, preferably.”

“I don’t know what this we business is,” you expressed. “I think this is the perfect time to split off, don’t you? The only reason they realized who I was was because of you and your recognizable red hair.”

She pursed her lips as she looked at you. “You need me.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t,” you countered stubbornly, crossing your arms over your chest like a child throwing a tantrum. You don’t need a babysitter. “It was not nice meeting you and I hope I never see you and your gorgeous face ever again.” You turned to leave, but stopped when a car pulled into the parking lot, screeching towards you at full speed. You felt a hand tug you away just in time, the car whizzing past you as you fell to the ground. Why didn’t you move?

“Why did you just stand there?” the woman demanded, helping you to your feet. Did she read your mind?

The door behind you banged against the dumpster, the police officers trying to get through to you, and the car that nearly ran you over circled the parking lot. You looked at the woman, eyes wide, as you said, “Alright, fine. Maybe I do need you for now. And…” you trailed off into a sigh, spreading your arms out wide. It felt as if you were trying to sweeten the deal of her babysitting you, make it less of a chore for her even though she’s the one who insisted in the beginning. “I have somewhere we can go.”

She grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. The door banging against the dumpster was in sync with your hammering heartbeat and the car had almost made a full circle. What the hell was this chick waiting for? Did she want you to get on your knees and beg? Because you could do that. You could take a hit to your dignity and beg the stunning woman to keep you safe.

“We need a car,” she stated before you actually got on your knees - you would’ve, too, if she took a second longer to say something.

“I can hotwire,” you announced, turning to face the few options you had. The employee parking lot was - obviously - filled with cars that belonged to the people who work at a coffee shop, so your choices weren’t very good. However, you just decided to go with the closest one. Especially since you noticed the passengers in the murderous car were popping out of the windows, showing off their guns.

You just kept getting lucky with people’s inability to lock things, pulling the door open and ducking below the steering wheel to pull out the wires. Your hands were shaking and you silently cursed yourself for embarrassing yourself in front of the lady. You didn’t process that the woman got into the passenger seat until the car engine purred to life.

“What- I’m not driving,” you declared.

She loaded a clip into her gun - how many clips can she carry? She doesn’t have that many pockets - as she turned her head to look at you. “Would you rather shoot?”

“Nope, I’m good.” You climbed into the driver’s seat just as the officers finally barged through the door, squealing past them and out of the parking lot, narrowly missed being hit by oncoming traffic.

The other car was right on your ass, following you down the street. “Where did you even learn how to hotwire a car?” She rolled down the window as you drove down the street, breaking the speed limit.

You huffed. “I learned in high school so I can impress a girl,” you muttered, though by her light chuckle, you knew she heard you. “I thought girls dug someone who could hotwire a car and pick a lock. Turns out, I was wrong. She… laughed at me.”

The woman chuckled softly as she stuck half her body out the window. You jumped when she fired off a few shots at the vehicle behind you before ducking back into the car. “Well, I think it’s impressive,” she stated, sending you a smirk.

Of course she would find it impressive. She’s clearly living on the edge of the law if she’s out here shooting in the middle of the streets without a care in the world. Not phased by a dead body, blood, or being shot at. Not to mention almost falling off the top of a skyscraper. This woman… you wanted to impress.

She stuck out the window again, shooting at the car advancing at you from behind, and you gasped when the light ahead of you turned red, stomping on the brakes. She sat back down to send you a look. “What are you doing?”

“It’s a red light.”

“So what?”

“It’s the law.”

She groaned, rolling her eyes. “You were just going fifty over the speed limit!”

“Okay, now that’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” you retorted. “I was not going fifty over the speed limit.” You shook your head, slicing the air. You looked in the rearview, seeing that the car that had been chasing you was stuck two cars behind you, patiently waiting for the light to turn green as well. “Look, even the homicidal maniacs hunting you down are taking a moment to abide the law.”

She scoffed, shaking her head with a smile “You’re unbelievable.”

“Am I wrong? They’re giving us a break. I think we deserve this moment.”

She sighed. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was a good thing this happened. She was running low on bullets, the current clip being her last.

“Do you think we could exchange names now?” Your question pulled her attention back onto you, eyebrows furrowed. “I mean, if we have to be stuck together until this rolls over, I’d much rather prefer to call you your name rather than the woman.” You glanced at her to see her pursed lips once more and you huffed. “Honestly, it doesn’t even have to be your real name. Here, I’ll even give you one. I’ll just call you… Brittney.”

She gave you a perplexed look that you tried not to laugh at. “I look like a Brittney?”

“It was the first name to pop into my head.”

She laughed. “Natasha.”

“Is that the name you’re giving me or-”

“It’s my name.” When you looked at her again, you caught her eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. You could stare into her eyes all day, losing yourself into those never ending pools of green… but someone honking impatiently behind you made you jump out of your haze to find that the light is green.

You drove forward at the speed limit, momentarily forgetting that you were being chased by crazed gunmen until they started shooting at you again. You have to lose these people. “Y/N. My name.”

She grinned softly at you before disappearing out the window again. A couple gunshots later, she came back to look at you. “You can slow down. I got their tire. Just don’t look behind you.”

Of course your instinct was to look in the rearview mirror, your mouth falling open when you saw the pile up you were driving away from. “What-”

“I told you not to look behind you."

“You know, when you tell me not to do something, I’m inclined to do it.”

“You should learn to take orders better.” Natasha pulled her cell phone out, clearly unfazed about the crash she had caused. You huffed as you slowed down, taking familiar turns through the city. "Yeah, we’re all over the news, Y/N.”

You glanced towards her cell, sighing when you saw the multiple news articles all containing thumbnails of that same zoomed in security footage from the hotel. She chewed her bottom lip subconsciously, typing furiously on her phone. You tried to get a peek of her screen again, but she had it tilted away now.

“So, why are these people trying to kill you?” And how did you manage to get yourself caught in the middle of it? You just wanted to forget the pain of the abrupt breakup, which you’ll be able to justify since that’s where you’re taking Natasha, your girlfriend’s house. Ex girlfriend, apparently. After that text, she made sure of it.

“What makes you think they’re trying to kill me?”

“Well, they’re definitely not after me!” You scoffed, shaking your head. “I lived a normal life with a normal job until I met you. I didn’t cross anybody with guns and the thirst for blood.”

She grinned. “Then they’re not the only ones after me.”

You stared at her as you stopped at a red light, eyes wide. “Don’t say that.” She laughed. “Why would you say that? Why would you put that in my head? You know I’m already freaked out, Natasha.”

She continued to laugh as you drove through the green light. “Just Nat is fine.”

The smile remained on her face as you put your focus on the road, oblivious to her lingering stares behind her soft eyes.

She picked her foot up, resting it against the dashboard as she settled into the seat. You reached over to swat at her foot. “Don’t put your nasty shoes on the dash.”

“It’s not even your car!” she laughed, shaking her head.

“It’s still rude.”

“You’re one of a kind, Y/N,” she said, grinning widely.

A comfortable silence settled over the both of you for the rest of the drive until you pulled up to an apartment complex and put the car in park, looking over at her to see her eyeing the building.

You were out of the car before she could say anything.

Monday, 11:42a.m.; Ex’s Apartment

She followed you closely as you entered the building, right on your heels with every turn. When you reached a door, you rapped your knuckles against the wood. You stared at the door, waiting for it to pull open while Natasha’s eyes seemed to be everywhere but the door.

“What is this place?” she questioned and you glanced at her, noticing her hand resting behind her back and you assumed she was holding the handle of her gun, ready to pull it out if necessary.

“My girl-” You sighed, shaking your head. “My ex girlfriend’s place.”

You huffed, pounding a fist against the door with more urgency, but when there still was no answer, Natasha pushed you aside and kicked the door open. You stared at her as she entered the room, sweeping the area as you shook your head and followed her in.

“It’s not like I told you I can pick locks or anything,” you declared, trying to place the door back as if there was nothing wrong with it. “Now we’re probably going to have to pay for this. And by we, I definitely mean you.” You grunted as you pushed the door into the threshold, taking a cautious step back and feeling relieved when it didn’t fall over.

You turned around and paused when you saw Natasha standing further into the apartment, furrowing your eyebrows at her frozen form. There was a hint of a bad smell roaming through the air as you slowly walked towards her, her body turning to look at you as she stepped forward, hands up as if she was going to hold you back. The closer you got to the redhead, the stronger the smell got, making your stomach settle uncomfortably.

“You don’t want to see this, Y/N,” she declared, placing her hands gently against your shoulders when you reached her, but her words only made you more curious. Did she not hear you earlier? Her telling you not do something only made you want to do it more!

“What is it?” You pushed past her, rounding the corner and faltering in your steps when you saw what she was talking about.

Your girlfriend - ex girlfriend, you got to remember that - laid dead on the ground in the living room, a nearly dried pool of blood underneath her. You stagger back, having nearly fallen over if Natasha hadn’t been directly behind you. She caught you, steadying you, but her hands remained on your shoulders just in case.

“Wh-” Your voice was caught in your throat, your stomach twisting and turning. Her throat was slit in a perfect line and, with the clean apartment, it was clear she didn’t put up much of a fight. “No.”

“Y/N-” You shrugged Natasha’s hands off of you as you quickly rushed past her, falling to your knees in front of the toilet. You hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since you threw up this morning, so you don’t exactly know what you were vomiting, just that you were emptying whatever was left in your stomach into the toilet.

You couldn’t get the image of your dead girlfriend out of your head, even after Natasha respectfully covered her body. The picture was there, permanently scarring your thoughts as you sat at the small kitchen table, your back to the living room.

Natasha searched the cupboards, muttering to herself about organization, the tea kettle on the stove releasing a high pitched squeal.

“It’s on the top shelf of the last cabinet.” She froze at your voice for a moment before quietly closing the doors of the current cabinet she was searching and moved to the last one, pulling it open and reaching up to grab the tea bags. She quickly removed the kettle off of the stove and started another search for cups, which she had already found when she was looking for the tea bags.

She placed the finished cup of tea in front of you and you watched the steam from the liquid rise up and disappear in the air. “You need to drink something.” This was the first time since you’ve met her that her voice was soft with concern. Your eyes burned with unshed tears, red and glossed over, as you looked down at the cup. You wanted to cry, but at the same time you couldn’t find the energy to give in to the emotion.

“Why her?”

Natasha sighed as she sat down in the chair next to you, placing her elbows on the table and crossing her arms. She didn’t have an answer to give you, not even a lie she could muster up. Instead, she stayed next to you as you cautiously sipped at the tea, carefully watching you as you remained silent.

You looked up, your shoulders lifting at a sudden burst of hope. “Is… her phone here?”

“I didn’t see it.” Natasha combed the apartment pretty thoroughly while you were emptying your stomach, no phone of any shape or size was seen in her search. Her eyebrows slightly furrowed with confusion at your question, sending you a tiny head tilt.

Maybe she didn’t break up with you. Maybe whoever killed her didn’t want you snooping. Not that it makes you feel better, but it does justify the random breakup. Just a simple We’re over, don’t contact me text wasn’t going to stop you from reaching out to her, but it did prevent you from kicking the door down when she didn’t answer.

“I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“My contact was supposed to pick us up at Zummo’s,” Natasha explained, reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone, “but you spooked the cops so we had to book it.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance, looking at her and, suddenly, you forgot you were mourning. “I spooked the cops?”

She looked up from her phone to make eye contact with you, an eyebrow raised in a perfect arch. “They wouldn’t have spotted us if you had just stayed seated.”

“They would’ve seen you,” you countered, “you’re hard to miss.”

Her face relaxed at your words, a smile crossing her lips as she placed her phone face down onto the table. “Well, Y/N, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting.”

Your eyes widened. The audacity of this woman! In front of your dead girlfriend? No, you’re not that heartless. You need time to grieve the death of the woman… you were going to break up with anyway. Still, that shouldn’t matter. You were in a relationship with her and now she’s dead.

“I'm… I’m not flirting.” You crossed your arms over your chest, eyebrows pinched together with anger once again. “Why would I flirt with my dead ex in the other room?”

“You didn’t love her anyway.” Natasha said it so casually, so confidently, that your anger turned to confusion. How did she know how you felt about your ex? The two of you had just met less than three hours ago. Hell, you didn’t even know her name until recently!

“How-”

“You’re not even crying.”

“Well, I-” No, no. There was no point in arguing with her, she had a fair point. You hadn’t shed any tears for your ex, they just burned your eyes. You didn’t have the energy to cry because you couldn’t find the energy to cry. That’s not going to stop you from denying how wrong she is. “I’m in shock, Nat. I almost fell off a skyscraper-”

“I wouldn’t call it a skyscraper. That’s a bit dramatic.”

“-I killed a man with a log-”

“That was pretty cool.”

“-I woke up next to a dead body.”

She was silent on that one.

“It’s been a long day.”

“It’s only lunch.”

“You’re so annoying.” You had to look away from her, your face breaking out into a smile will let her know you actually enjoy these back and forth moments with her. It was the only upside of being in this situation. She’s literally the only reason why you’re not dead. Because, face it, if it wasn’t for her, you would’ve been dead in that penthouse.

Her phone emitted a vibrate that shook the small table, but she didn’t pick it up to read the message. Instead, she kept her focus on you. “We’re not leaving until you finish your tea.”

“Alright, mother.” You looked down at the tea and breathed out through your nose as you picked up the mug, bringing it to your lips and taking a large sip. You bit back against the heat as you placed the mug back onto the table. “So, why were you at the penthouse?”

“I was on a job.”

You purse your lips for a moment as you look at her. “What do you even do?” You took another sip of the tea.

“I’m a contractor.” She sent you a kind smile and you wanted to blame the tea for the warmth spreading through you, but you know that wasn’t the case.

“A contractor who just so happens to know how to fight and shoot a gun.”

“What do you do?” She needed the topic to change.

“IT. Not as cool as a… contractor.” You smiled as you brought the mug back to your lip, taking another large sip. You had gotten used to the heat at this point, though it also simmered down a bit. You swallowed the liquid before saying, “Where’d you learn how to do what you do?”

“I went to a contractor school.”

You rolled your eyes as she laughed, putting your attention to your drink. “Fine, don’t tell me. See if I care.” You finished off the tea, pushing the mug away from you and that’s when she picked up her phone. “After this whole thing blows over, we’re never going to see each other again, so it doesn’t really matter that much.”

You were looking away from her, so you didn’t notice the smile on her face fade away at your words.

She cleared her throat. “Our ride is here.” She stood up, tucking her phone back into her pocket and making her way to the exit.

“Shouldn’t we clean up? Our fingerprints-”

“The cops already blame use for the other one, there’s no point in-”

“I’m not going to leave her behind like that.” You stood up, crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s disrespectful.”

“We left your one night stand behind.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, bringing your arms tighter against your chest. You didn’t mention that woman being your one night stand. Natasha seems to know some things about you that you don’t remember sharing. “How did you-” Your question got cut off when a loud bang came from the front of the apartment. On instinct, you moved to investigate, but Natasha quickly grabbed your forearm and pulled you back into the room.

She held a finger against her lips and you strained your ears, listening to the footsteps stepping over the fallen door and entering the apartment. She stepped in front of you, her body blocking your view of the entrance to the kitchen as she pulled her gun out. You peeked over her shoulder, more than perfectly fine letting her be your shield.

The second someone turned the corner, she pulled the trigger. The man fell to the ground with a thump, and chaos ensued. She dragged you to the ground when bullets sprayed through the wall, the sound of the machine gun pounding against your eardrums.

Natasha held you close to her, her body covering yours as whoever was on the other side of the wall showed no mercy with their gun. You tucked your head underneath your hands, your eyes squeezing shut.

And then the shooting stopped, taking a moment to reload their gun, but it was just long enough to give Natasha what she needed. She left your side and rounded the corner, pulling the trigger, but the gun clicked empty. You felt your stomach drop to your feet as she went flying back, having been tackled.

You were forced to your feet by a third man, his grip tight on your forearm as he tugged you towards the exit, but you struggled. You pulled him deeper into the kitchen, fear making you put up a good fight as you tried to get away from him.

Natasha continued fighting against the second intruder in the other room, the man holding onto you getting annoyed with your fighting as his grip tightened on your arm.

“Stop resisting,” the man sneered, your free arm swinging behind you. You instantly wrapped your hand around a hand, bringing it back around to smack the man in the face with whatever you managed to grab. Releasing you as he staggered back at the impact, looking down at your hand to see that you had grabbed the tea kettle.

The man shook his head, blinking himself out of the daze and you stared at him with wide eyes, watching the blood trickle down his temple. You didn’t think it were possible, but he definitely looks more pissed now than he did post head injury. He took a step towards you.

“Wait!” You held up the kettle, preparing to swing again. He paused, his head tilting to the side with confusion. “Uh…” Wow, you didn’t think that was going to work. Though it didn’t work for long, he realized you had nothing important to say so he continued forward.

You braced yourself, your arm tensing in preparation to swing the kettle again, but he froze once more. You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it when he fell forward, an arrow poking out of his back as your arm fell to your side. You looked up to see a man at the entrance of the kitchen, a bow in his hand. He turned to offer a hand to Natasha, helping her to her feet after she pushed the limp body off of her.

“I didn’t know your contact was Katniss,” you expressed and Natasha breathed out a chuckle.

“Katniss?” The man turned to Natasha, confused, but she only shook her head and waved her hand.

“Y/N, this is Clint,” she stated as he looked back at you. You sent him a tired wave before realizing you were still gripping onto the kettle, placing it onto the counter.

He sent you a wide smile, returning your half-hearted wave with one of his own. “We should leave now.” He walked away, but Natasha stayed, waiting for you.

“Are you okay?” she questioned gently and you felt yourself breathe out at her soft voice, your chest feeling lighter yet your shoulders still felt heavy.

“I’m fine.” You purse your lips tightly and nodded at her question, stepping over the man to join her at the kitchen entrance. You just wanted to be done with today, though you knew this wasn’t anywhere near the end. You have to find out who these goons chasing you are, then you can trace that back to their boss and that’ll be the person who killed the bar lady. That’ll be the person who you turn into the police and you can finally have reprieve.

You left the apartment behind, no longer concerned about your dead ex now that there were an additional three bodies added to the mix. You weren’t even thinking about your dead ex anymore, the last thing on your mind right now after what had just happened.

Monday, 1:12p.m.; Safe House

When you loaded into the car, you felt the tense silence between the three of you. Clint drove while Natasha sat with you in the back, the middle seat leaving enough space between the two of you. You leaned against the door, watching the outside zoom past you.

You wanted to take a moment to recollect. What was supposed to be a one night stand to numbify the pain of being dumped turned into a life or death adventure with a “contractor”. Now you were feeling a lot more pain than before. More physical than anything because your body aches from all this strenuous activity. You’re used to just sitting at a desk all day, typing away on your computer.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your forearm, looking down in time to see Natasha quickly pull her hand away. “Sorry,” she muttered. She put her hands in her lap as you rubbed your forehead, sighing.

“It’s fine.” You looked at her, a small smile lifting the corner of your lips. “Where are we going?”

“Safe house,” Clint answered. “You can lay low there until we figure something out.”

You nodded, looking back out the window. With a huff, you suddenly remembered your phone, fishing it out of your pocket. At first glance, you had thought it was dead - it hasn’t been charging since last night, it was a logical thought - until you remembered that the bar lady had simply shut it off to maintain your attention. When you turned it back on, your phone went berserk with new messages and missed calls from the past couple hours, mostly from your boss wondering why you were late.

“Oh, no,” you muttered, Natasha turning her head to look at you. “I was supposed to be at work at ten o’clock!” You were so transfixed on your phone that you didn’t notice the look Natasha and Clint exchanged.

“I’m sure they’ll understand why you’re not going in,” Natasha said. You were so caught up in all this action that you had completely forgotten you’re scheduled today. But you couldn’t explain exactly why you weren’t coming in. He’d either think you’re nuts or he’d call the cops, which is what you don’t need right now.

“I’ll have to call him,” you said. “Tell him I’m not going to make it.” Sure, you can’t tell him why, but you can at least inform him that you’re not going. Maybe you can tell him you’re not feeling well, or that there’s been an accident. Both would be true in a sense.

You got a notification for an emergency alert before you can bring up the boss’s number and you instinctively tapped on it to see a new article starring you and Natasha, pinning you for the murders in the apartment. They had your name now, yet Natasha remained anonymous. And now that you’re labeled as a serial killer, new messages started popping up on your phone.

You should’ve left it off.

“We’re here.” You looked up at Clint’s voice, Natasha noticing you roughly shoving your phone into your pocket. “We’re going to chill here until we come up with the next steps.”

You loaded out of the car, looking at the small house in the middle of nowhere. There wasn’t even a road, it was just all dirt. At least you’d see people coming from miles away with only a few trees surrounding the area. Still, it was quiet and peaceful, something you need considering the last five hours of the day was anything but. And you still can’t seem to process your head around the fact that it’s only been five hours since you found the bar lady dead. You couldn’t fight the chills running up your body, shivering against them. God knows how long you slept next to that dead body for.

You followed Clint to the door, Natasha walking alongside you. She seemed a bit more relaxed here, her shoulders looser and her walk less rigid. When you glanced at her, there was even a light smile on her face, brightening her features to make her even more beautiful than you’d ever seen before in anybody. She basked in the sun as she walked, enjoying the moment of relief from being aware at all times.

You walked into the house after Clint, Natasha closing the door behind you. The home was cozy, small. It brought a sense of security, a sort of nostalgic feeling to you as you ventured further into the home. This would be a nice place to raise a family, open and free.

You shrugged your jacket off and laid it onto the back of a chair. “There’s only two bedrooms,” Clint stated, “so I’ll take the couch.” He guided you down a small hallway past the kitchen, gesturing to one of the first doors. You entered the room, which was definitely bigger than the kitchen. This was most likely the master bedroom. “You could get settled in. I’m going to see if we have anything for you to eat. By what Natasha had told me, you two didn’t seem to have a chance to eat something.”

“I could take the couch,” you quickly stated, turning to look at him before he could leave. Last time you were in a bed didn’t end so well. When he opened his mouth to argue, you added, “I’ll probably end up sleeping on the floor anyway, so it’ll be a waste of a bed.” Just looking at the bed brought back that image of the dead woman laying there, peacefully, covered in her own blood.

He stared at you for a moment, analyzing you, deciding whether or not you’re telling the truth. He seemed to have forgotten - much like Natasha - that not everybody is used to blood and death being a part of their life almost everyday.

“I’m assuming Nat didn’t tell you the part where I woke up next to a dead body.”

“She mentioned it.” He shrugged and nodded. “Fine, you can have the couch. I’ll give Nat this room and I’ll take the other room down the hall.” He left the room and you followed.

As he veered into the kitchen, you made a beeline to the couch, sitting down and getting comfortable. You pulled out your phone, unlocking it and reading the multiple texts you’ve received from people. The nastiness behind each word, hateful and spiteful and ill-natured. Your eyebrows furrowed as you continued to read each message, displaying disgust and hostility towards your newfound hobby - murder. Though they didn’t have the whole story, just basing everything off of what the media is saying, you couldn’t blame them for their unpleasant words.

You didn’t even want to listen to the voicemails that seem to be growing almost as fast as the texts.

You were aware of someone sitting next to you when the couch dipped at their added weight, but you just couldn’t take your eyes away from your phone screen. You knew you should, the negativity of each degrading word made you want to vomit, but you honestly couldn’t. It wasn’t until a hand covered your screen, gently taking the phone out of your hands that you finally blinked.

You felt the tears slide down your face, but you couldn’t be sure whether they were from the not blinking or the messages. You decided it was from the not blinking.

Natasha placed your phone on the coffee table, face down, before saying, “Are you okay?” You really wished she’d stopped asking that because what is she going to do when you say no?

“I’m fine.” You nodded as if trying to convince yourself that you were fine… though, deep down, both you and her knew you were far from it. “I’m just really tired.”

“You can take a nap,” she offered, leaning against the couch as she looked at you. “Clint and I will keep an eye-”

“No, I’m not physically tired,” you stated, sighing. “It felt like it’s been days since that woman died, but it’s only been five hours. How have we done all of that in five hours?”

She stared at you as you leaned against your knees, putting your face in your hands. She reached over, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and you leaned into the touch. “You’re safe now.”

You picked your head up to look at her, sucking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Whatever sentence you had forming on your tongue got caught in your throat when you met her eyes, getting lost once again in the infinite depth, feeling yourself melt underneath her hand. And it wasn’t until Clint announced that the food was ready that you realized you were subconsciously leaning closer to her, both of you getting to your feet as you snapped out of your daze. She was leaning, too, right?

“I’ll just…” She pointed towards the kitchen and walked away quickly.

“I…” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Last door on the right,” Clint answered as he laid out three plates. You rushed down the hall and into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.

You began to pace back and forth in the tiny room, chewing on your nails. What were you doing? Sure, Natasha was undeniably gorgeous and, normally, you’d do anything to take her out on a date, let alone kiss her (which you almost done), but this was no normal circumstance. You’re on the run with this woman, from both the government and whoever is sending minions to silence the two of you about the bar lady (and your ex, apparently). You shouldn’t get romantically involved with someone you’re on the run with. Especially since she’s the only reason why you’re alive. What if something happens and she doesn’t want to keep you around anymore? No, you can’t take the chance.

You washed your face in the sink with cold water. It relaxed you, but not a lot. Your mind was conflicted between trauma and love. It wanted to process the events of the morning while at the same time it wanted to revel in the feeling of love for someone you just met, completely forgetting about your six month relationship that had just ended less than a day ago, not to mention finding her dead body not too soon afterwards.

Yes, you needed to give yourself time to grieve, to mourn the loss of someone you could’ve loved. You needed to make your mind forget about Natasha for a few moments so you could think properly… but you couldn’t. Natasha was there with every thought. Overloading your mind with her face every time you tried to process something that had happened within the last five hours. She was there through it all.

You dried your face and left the bathroom, stepping into the kitchen to see Clint cleaning up. Exactly how long were you in there for?

“Hey.” You announced your presence so he didn’t shoot you, which is something you feel like he would’ve done.

He sent you a smile as he placed the last dish he was cleaning onto the drying mat, turning to look at you. “Your food is still there.” He gestured towards the table and you saw the plate of food sitting on it. It looked good, appetizing, but you just were not in the mood to give your stomach some more ammunition just yet. “Natasha’s in her room getting settled in and I was going to head out for a moment. I’ll be back later.”

“Where are you going? Maybe I can join you?” Anything to get your mind off of today… off of her. You could always try to get her off your mind.

Clint chuckled lightly as he walked towards you. “I think it’ll be better if you stayed here,” he confessed, patting you on the shoulder as he passed you. “Your face is all over the news now, mine isn’t.” You groaned under your breath, knowing he had a point. You were sure it’ll be harder to go into the public now that you’re a damn serial killer. Although his lighthearted nature about the situation seemed to relax you despite being wanted.

“You’re right,” you said with a heavy sigh, crossing your arms over your chest as he shrugged his jacket on. “I’ll stay here, then.” With Natasha.

He saw the perplexed look on your face and walked back over to you, breathing out as he placed a hand on your shoulder. “It’ll all be fine, Y/N. Soon, this will all blow over and you’ll go back to your normal life.” He patted your shoulder once more before turning and leaving, the door closing shut as he left. He read that situation all wrong. You weren’t at all concerned about the abnormal situation you’re in, though you know you definitely should be - people are dying and you’re wanted for murder for crying out loud! Murders you didn’t even do! Not including that one man, of course. That poor man…

You sat down at the table, staring at the food in front of you. Time to get a certain red head off your mind. Put all your attention onto the good, focus on trying not to throw it back up once you start eating… any second now… just pick up the fork or even the spoon… that’s all you have to do is just…

You were on your feet instantly, making your way to the hall and pausing in front of the bedroom door, your hand raised up in a fist, preparing to knock against the wood. But you were frozen in your stance, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you thought through what you’re possibly thinking.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline! Yeah, that’ll explain everything. She saved you on multiple occasions, there’s no way these feelings are real… right? Get real, okay? You had just went through a breakup (one that might not have even been real!), you went through the rollercoaster that is a one night stand that went completely wrong, you witnessed two murders, you killed a man, you were an accessory to a car pileup that definitely resulted in multiple injuries, possibly multiple deaths, you found your ex dead in her apartment, you witnessed three more murders. And she was with you through it all!

Your arm returned to your side and you were about to leave until the door was pulled open. She looked at you, an eyebrow raised, and you realized you probably seemed like an absolute creep by just standing outside her door like that.

Quick, say something smart to get yourself out of this awkward situation! She was just standing there, staring at you staring at her! “Hi.”

Really?

“Hi.” She grinned softly, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the door frame. “Whatcha doing?”

“What do you mean?"

Seriously?

"You’ve been standing out here for almost a minute,” she pointed out. She must’ve seen your shadow underneath the door. For a “contractor”, she’s pretty observant. “Figured you wanted something.”

“Oh.” Come on, don’t be so shy now. Just tell her why you were going to knock on her door. That’s right, you can’t because you don’t know why! “You, um… see the new article? We’re officially serial killers now.”

Her grin grew wider. She didn’t know why you were standing outside her door for a minute, but she knew that’s not the real reason. “No, I didn’t see it.” She definitely saw it. “How do you feel about being a serial killer?”

“Am I supposed to feel something?” She chuckled lightly. “I guess I feel… fine.”

“Fine?” She noticed you’ve been saying that word a lot lately. She had a sneaking suspicion that you’ve been lying, but now she can confirm it. You’re not fine. “How are you fine about that?”

“Because I know the truth,” you answered, shrugging nonchalantly. “I only killed one person” - accidentally - “so I’m just a simple murderer. Now, you, on the other hand…”

She laughed, shaking her head as you grinned widely. “You know, you changed a lot since I’ve met you.”

“In a whopping five hours,” you said.

“You went from a scared little thing to being very casual about everything.” She sighed, the smile fading away from her face as she added, “And I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“At least I’m not puking anymore.”

“You haven’t seen another dead body yet,” she countered and you rolled your eyes, “and, hopefully, you won’t have to see another one.”

You kept your mouth shut as you stared at her, biting your bottom lip. The conversation was over now, you had nothing to add to her statement, and now silence had just settled between the two of you. You don’t really know what to do about that. You know it’s best to walk away, go eat the food waiting for you in the kitchen, but you can’t seem to remember how to move your legs underneath her eyes.

“I… I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline from everything that’s happening or if it’s real, but I…” You sighed, your words dying in your throat. It’s definitely a sign that you should probably stop talking and you feel as if you should follow the sign. “I have… feelings for you.” Or just completely ignore the sign and keep talking.

Her arms fell to her sides. “Y/N-”

“I shouldn't… have said something,” you quickly interrupted. Anticipating the rejection, you didn’t want to hear her say it. Were you just imagining her leaning in too earlier? Ugh, that’d make sense. “I probably should’ve just asked you if you’re even single before I said anything. And I don’t even know if you’re into girls or not. You know what? How about we just pretend like I didn’t even mention anything? Because, y'know, the thing going on between us, the completely platonic thing, it was great! There was absolutely nothing to be concerned about and then we can just go our separate ways when this is-” She got you to shut up by bringing your face into her hands and her lips into yours.

She was… kissing you. She was kissing you! And her lips were so much softer than they looked, and they looked extremely soft. Warmth spread through your veins, your knees weak and bubbles rose in your chest.

There was a tiny, tiny, tiny voice in the back of your mind that you should not be going down this path yet. That you should give yourself time to mourn, but the voice was just so trivial that you had no problem unquestionably ignoring the sucker.

She pulled away from you, her eyes sparkling brighter than you’d ever seen, a smile lighting up her face, and her fingers rested gently against your jaw. You were absolutely swooned.

“I… You… uh…” The only thing your voice can form were random syllables, making incoherent words that forged incomprehensible sentences. You were star-struck. And her soft laughter certainly didn’t help the feeling.

She turned away from you, disappearing further into the room while leaving the door wide open, a sign to follow her. A sign you didn’t ignore.

You followed her into the room, closing the door behind you. You convinced yourself that this was something you needed, a form of relaxation. And it didn’t take much convincing for you to believe it as you laid down on her bed. She crawled over you, her hands traveling up your shirt, her fingers crafting paths of goosebumps across your skin in their wake. Her lips ghosted across your jawline, her breath fanning over your face, your hands holding her hips tightly as if you were scared she was just going to disappear on you.

When she connected her lips to yours, you moaned against her involuntarily, absolutely hungry for her touch. Your body has never felt so relaxed before this moment, underneath her, at her full command. You needed this.

You needed her.

Monday, 3:43p.m.; Safe(?) House

You and Natasha couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of each other, your hands intertwined underneath the blanket you had somehow ended up beneath. Your cheeks colored red under her gaze, though she didn’t comment on it. You were both enjoying the comfortable silence wrapping around you like a scarf.

“You’re so… captivating.”

Natasha’s face lit up, her thumb running across the top of your hand below you.

“I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as beautiful as you, Nat.”

“Yeah, you have,” she replied quietly, “whenever you look in the mirror.”

You groaned, turning your head away from her. You would’ve broken the connection between your hands if she didn’t tighten her grip when she felt your hand loosen. She laughed as you said, “Get out of here with that shit, Nat.”

She scooted closer to you, picking up her body to plant a kiss on your lips before collapsing back onto the bed, resting her head against your shoulder. Your phone vibrated against the wood of the nightstand next to you, instinctively reaching out for it to check the new message, just assuming it was another degrading comment about the hot storyline running its course through the media. But when you woke up the phone, reading the cut-off message on the lock screen, you realized it wasn’t your phone. It was Natasha’s.

After you read as much of the message as you can, you shrugged out from underneath Natasha, leaving her phone in your spot as you started searching for your clothes, pulling them on accordingly.

“What happened?” Natasha looked at her phone with confusion, though the puzzling feeling didn’t last long after reading the message you had read. She sat up. “Y/N, it’s not what it seems like.” You tugged your shirt on.

“You’re not a contractor, are you?” You shook your head, pulling your pants up. “You were hired to protect me! You don’t care for my safety. It’s all about the money, isn’t it?” You leaned against the wall near the door to put your shoes on.

“No, Y/N, it wasn’t about the money at all!” She stood up, pulling her clothes back on as well in a quicker fashion, desperate to keep up with you once she realized you had intentions of walking away once you were fully clothed. “And I wasn’t hired to protect you. You’re a high priority, I was assigned.”

“Like that makes it so much better!” You pulled the door open, leaving Natasha behind in the bedroom as you made your way to the living room. You found your phone on the coffee table and looked at the screen.

Natasha soon appeared. “Please, just hear me out.”

“I’ve heard enough.” You unlocked your phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Your friend took the only car. I’m getting an Uber so I can leave.” You planned on walking, meeting the driver halfway so you can get away from her sooner.

“Y/N, you can’t-”

“What? Is your paycheck going to get cut short?” You scoffed. “I thought… I know we just met, but I thought the feelings were real. This whole "love at first sight” thing is such bull shit.“

"You’re being targeted, Y/N,” she stated, but you kept your eyes on your phone screen, pretending not to listen to her, but she continued anyway. “Those people that keep attacking us? They’re not after me. They’re after you.”

“That makes no sense,” you countered, finally looking up at her. “I didn’t do anything!”

“You really don’t know, do you?” She shook her head, placing her hands on her hips. “I really thought this whole thing was an act, but you really are clueless.”

“I’m not going to stand here and let you criticize me.” You made your way to the front door, throwing it open and marching out of the house, but Natasha was hot on your heels.

“You’re an IT tech at Roxxon, right?” You continued walking, ignoring her. “They found out that you accessed something you shouldn’t have and copied it.”

“What are you talking about?” You stopped walking, turning around to look at her.

“Roxxon is corrupt,” she continued. “They are a terrorist organization.”

“It-”

“We don’t know what their goal is, but you do. You have the information needed to figure out what their plans are. You’re a key witness. You have the chance to save the world, Y/N.”

“I didn’t take anything from Roxxon,” you declared. “I didn’t even plug anything into their-” Your voice caught in your throat and your eyes squeezed shut. The one time you needed to charge your phone while at work, the one time you didn’t have a power adapter to plug into the wall, the one time you plugged your phone into one of the Roxxon computers…

But it had happened days ago.

“Who do you even work for?”

“I work for SHIELD,” she answered automatically. “We’re a counter-terrorism and intelligence agency.”

“And how long have you been protecting me?”

She sighed. “Two days.” You opened your eyes to look at her.

Two days. Two days she has been watching you. How many people did she stop from hurting you? How many people did she kill to prevent them getting to you?

“Did you…” You really don’t know if you want the answer to this question. “Did you kill my ex?”

“No,” she stated, almost defensively.

“Are you lying to me?”

She shook her head. “I promise, Y/N, I will not lie to you anymore. I did not kill your ex.”

“The lady at McGreddy’s?”

Her lips formed a tight line and, by her expression, you already knew what her answer was. “She was going to kill you.”

You turned away from her.

“She was a hired assassin. She drugged you to get you to a secluded location, to get you more compliant. I looked away for one second and you were… gone.” She had turned her attention briefly to a drunken man who thought he had even the slightest chance to get in bed with her and, when she looked back up to you from her spot in the corner, you were gone. And she had never felt more afraid in that moment than she did in her entire life.

“You killed her.” You looked back at her. “You killed her and you let me think I did it!” It all makes sense now. You knew four drinks wouldn’t have gotten you that drunk. And it explains how she knew your name when you didn’t say it. “I don’t need your protection anymore, Nat.”

“Y/N-”

“You know what? I actually want nothing to do with you anymore. Just… leave me alone.” You walked away, following the dirt road, but she kept following you, though she did keep her distance.

“I can’t leave you alone,” she called after you. “I can contact my employer and have a replacement sent in, but until then, you’re stuck with me.”

“If your employer isn’t going to drop it, then please do,” you stated over your shoulder. “At least now I know not to form actual feelings for them so they can squash my heart right in front of me.”

She sighed as you stopped walking once again, turning to catch her stepping towards you, reaching for you. “I didn’t mean-” She cut herself off, shaking her head. She straightened her posture, tightening her muscles. Her eyes became cold. It was like she became a totally different person. “You’re right. I’ll call for a replacement. In the meantime, we’re going back to the house.” She wasn’t suggesting it anymore, her voice was harsh and demanding, ordering you. “Let’s go.”

Suddenly, you were afraid. This was a side of Natasha you have yet to see, the cold filling her eyes sent shivers up your spine that you had to fight against, absolutely no emotion covering her face. It was just like she flipped a switch and, poof!, no more feelings. The endless depths in her eyes were shallow once again. She was cutting you off.

“This is what you want, right?” You held up your phone, waving it in the air. “This apparently has everything you need to bring Roxxon down. This is what you’re really protecting.” You scoffed, shaking your head. You weren’t the high priority, your phone was. That’s what she needed to protect. You were just a nobody to her without it. “Have it.” You tossed it her way and she caught it with a single hand, looking down at it. “Now you don’t need to protect me.” You turned away from her and marched down the road.

She didn’t follow you this time.

And you were officially lost. You didn’t have your phone to determine which way the Uber driver was going to be coming from, having finally gotten off the dirt road and onto cement, and relief flooded through you when you saw a car slow down next to you.

The driver rolled down the window, sending you a pinched smile. “Looking for a lift?” You glanced towards the back, a woman watching you carefully.

You eyed the driver. He definitely did not radiate the Uber aura. You shook your head, declining politely. “My ride should actually be here in a second. I was just taking a walk, enjoying the scenery and-” You immediately stopped talking when he placed a pistol on the door, aiming the barrel right at you. “You know, on second thought, maybe you can help me out.”

He smiled as you loaded yourself into the backseat.

Clint walked into the house, looking towards the couch to see that you weren’t there. He called out, announcing his presence as a sly grin rested on his features. He didn’t really need to go out, but figured he’d give you and Natasha the time alone you needed. He wondered if it went well.

Natasha came out of her room, properly dressed and ready to go. His smile faded away when he saw the expression on her face, giving him just the answer he needed. What could have possibly happened within the couple hours he’s been gone?

“Let’s go,” Natasha stated, walking past him to the door.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Gone.”

“And we’re not going after her?”

Natasha sighed, pulling the door open and turning to look at him, shrugging. “She doesn’t require our protection anymore. We have the data, that’s all that matters.”

“Nat-”

“Don’t give me any of your little speeches, Barton,” she interrupted. She can only put up an act for so long, beginning to give in to the feeling of having you in her arms only to lose you no more than five minutes later. What kind of luck was that? You were hers for a bit and now you’re just… “Let’s go.” She turned to leave.

“She found out.” Clint sighed as Natasha froze, her hand glued to the doorknob as she looked at the ground. “Why didn’t you just tell her in the beginning?”

“I thought she knew,” she answered, turning back to look at him, “and that she was just acting like she wasn’t aware of what was actually going on, but she wasn’t. She didn’t know anything.” Her eyes rested on your jacket, hanging off the top of a chair, and she huffed, knowing she’s never going to see you again. “This is the job.”

“This is much more than the job, ‘Tasha,” Clint countered. “She was the first person who has actually made you genuinely smile in such a long time. You’re just going to let her walk away?”

She tore her eyes away from your jacket to look at Clint once more, eyebrows furrowed. “Our job is to protect-”

“Her,” Clint interrupted. “Our job is to protect her.”

She heard a car pull up, pulling her gun out almost immediately as she turned her back to Clint. She kept the gun behind her back as she fully walked out of the house, watching the car approach her as Clint joined her. She was anxious, noticing that there was only one person in the car. Why they would only send one person was beyond her, but it didn’t mean to lower her guard. Her grip was tight on the gun behind her, her jaw clenched and muscles tense. She was prepared if this went south because it always goes south.

The driver pulled up, rolling down the window to stick her head out. She glanced between Clint and Natasha before she called out, “Either of you called for an Uber?”

“An Uber?” Clint looked at Natasha.

“Y/N called an Uber,” Natasha declared, tucking her gun back into her waistband, her arms falling to her sides freely. “She was going to meet them halfway.”

“I didn’t see anybody,” the driver stated, “but I’ll drive around again.”

“You already drove both ways?” Clint questioned.

The driver nodded. “She messaged me and said she’ll be on the side of the road.”

Clint turned to Natasha, who did everything she could to avoid the man’s eyes. “She could be in danger.”

Natasha shook her head, though just the thought of your life being at risk without her there to protect you physically pained her. “Y/N is fine.”

“Roxxon doesn’t know she no longer has the data,” he argued, “and, just like you, they’re most likely not going to believe her when she says she has no idea what they’re talking about.”

She clenched her jaw and crossed her arms over her chest.

Clint rolled his eyes. “Stop being stubborn, 'Tasha, you and I both know how much you care about her.” He didn’t know how much, he just had an idea. Despite this having been an assignment, she couldn’t deny how much fun she had with you. She wasn’t going to pursue anything romantic with you regardless of the feelings she held, but the moment you told her you had feelings for her, too, was the moment her professional façade came crashing down. And when her lips met yours, the way you melted underneath her, her feelings have never been more clear.

And now you’re in danger.

“Did you see anybody drive past you?” Natasha walked forward, making her way to the driver. The roads leading up to this house were always empty, being so far off the map had its perks.

“Yeah, some asshole nearly ran into me,” the driver declared, ducking back into the car when Natasha stood outside her door. “They were going way over the speed limit.”

“Do you remember what car they were driving?”

“Oh, I couldn’t forget,” she stated. She drove off after giving Natasha everything she needed, pulling out her cell phone to call in a quick favor to the techs over at SHIELD.

Clint chuckled softly behind her. “I knew it.”

She ignored him as she waited for someone to pick up the phone. “They got a head start. We have to get going.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⧗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Monday, 6:02p.m.; Roxxon Corporation

Fear kept you silent. You might have forgotten to mention to your boss that you weren’t going to be making it in, but you would’ve been lying because here you were, inside your place of employment. Only, you weren’t on the proper level. As the IT department usually rested on the seventh floor, the people who had picked you up on the side of the road decided it was best fit to take you down to the basement. Where nobody can see or hear you when you scream.

You tried not to show just how truly scared you were to be in a situation like this - tied to a chair in the middle of an old, watered down basement (you’d think a billion dollar company would invest in fixing up their basement) with a smell that made you sick to your stomach along with two people with guns, and you’re pretty sure you in the middle of multiple blood stains - but you couldn’t stop your knees from shaking.

You flinched when the door banged open, footsteps echoing throughout the empty basement. This place was definitely used for torture and you can’t believe you’ve been working at above it for three years.

“Is this her?” You looked up at the man as he came into light, flanked by two more goons, and your eyes squinted at the sight of him. He looked familiar, you just know you met him somewhere before, but where?

“Yes, sir,” one of his goons answered.

“Don’t I know you?” you questioned. You tried to replay all the memories stored in your head, but you just couldn’t get past this morning.

“Shut up,” a goon demanded.

The boss cleared his throat. “I heard you’re a remarkable employee, Y/N,” he stated, fixing the sleeves of his suit. “Been here for three years without so much as a write up. Hell, you even show up to work ten minutes early every day.”

He held his hand out, a baton falling into his open palm and he squeezed his fingers around the handle tightly. This was not a man to get his hands dirty.

“Peter Scarborough!” You breathed out. “You’re the, uh… the Chief Executive of Risk Management. Yeah, you made sure everybody knew that. We met briefly at some company party that I really was not interested in going to, but at least one person from each department had to show up and I was the lucky one who got voted for IT. It was so boring-” You groaned in pain when he whipped the tip of the baton clean across your cheek, tears stinging your eyes at the impact.

“You’re stalling,” he sneered.

You looked at him, your eyes giving up the fear you’ve been trying to hide. That really hurt! “I’m not stalling,” you said. “I ramble when I’m nervous.”

“Well, how about ramble about where you put the data you stole from me.”

“I didn’t steal anything!” The sound of the baton striking across your cheek once more echoed through the basement, not being able to stop a few tears from escaping your eyes. “Please, stop.”

“Where is it?”

“I don’t have it!”

He sent the baton into your stomach and you felt the air leave your lungs, gasping. He turned his back to you, huffing in frustration as he readjusted his sleeves once more. You knew there was no way out of this. He was going to kill you whether or not you gave up what he wanted, but you couldn’t tell him where it was. You were sure that Natasha was gone in the wind now that she had what she was assigned to protect. You had no idea where she had gone.

And even though Natasha had been lying to you, you still believed her when she said that Roxxon was the bad guy. You weren’t going to tell them anything. And if dying was the price you had to pay to save the world from a company like Roxxon, so be it.

It’s not like you had anything to live for anyway. All your friends and family think you’re a serial killer and, even if the news does release the full, honest story, there’s no way they’re going to look at you differently. And if the truth doesn’t get out, if you’re permanently known as a serial killer for the rest of your life, then you’ll just be on the run constantly from the government. And that’s not a life you want to live.

Peter sent the baton flying into your face so hard, the chair you were sitting on toppled over and you fell out of it. You wanted to cry, but you know you couldn’t. So you had to swallow the pain like a large pill and just get this over with.

You were forcefully put back into the chair by his goons.

Peter turned to one of his minions. “Where’s that woman she was running around with?”

“It was just her we found.”

He groaned. “Well, don’t you think you should find her? She probably has it!”

“Yes, sir.” Two of the guards bounded away, leaving Peter with two guards left. Ugh, this was the wrong time to get into a fight with Natasha. She definitely would’ve figured a way out of this.

“Please, I really don’t know where it is,” you begged. “If you let me go, I’ll never tell anybody what happened here. We can just go back to normal! I can keep working for you and you can do whatever you were going to do. Or, or you can fire me and we can just go our sep-”

“Shut up,” Peter ordered.

You complied immediately, your mouth clamping shut into silence. You didn’t want him to hit you again.

“Where’s the red head?”

“I don’t know,” you answered. “We separated.” You felt yourself panic when he lifted the baton in the air. “No, no! Please. I just… I don’t know! I swear! Mr. Scarborough, I’m just an IT tech!”

You lost your composure when he whipped the baton across your face once more, your body shaking as sobs erupted from your chest. He didn’t want any words coming out of your mouth unless they were the location of your phone. “You’re pathetic!” he sneered. “Give me the gun. She’s useless now.” He held his hand out as the baton fell to the floor, one of his goons placing a gun into his hand. He cocked the gun and pointed it at your face. Terror ripped through you, locking your sobs in your chest.

You squeezed your eyes shut, patiently waiting for him to pull the trigger, bracing yourself for the gunshot, and you’ve never jumped so high when it went off. You released a breath as you opened your eyes, staring right into Peter’s, as pain erupted through your shoulder. He chuckled lowly as you looked down at the gunshot wound, eyes wide with horror. He shot you.

This was the moment in movies where the hero saves the damsel in distress, is it not? But it didn’t happen. He actually shot you! And there’s no hero around to stop him! You had a small shred of hope left inside you that Natasha really didn’t leave you behind with your phone, that she was going to run in here at any moment and save you, but now it has become clear. Because as Peter aimed the gun at you once more, your eyes fluttering close gently in acceptance, that hope was completely diminished into nothing as you realized the twisted truth.

Natasha chose to save the world over you.

You waited for the second gunshot. Maybe this one will kill you. But when you felt your chair get pushed backward, you opened your eyes to see Natasha battling the henchmen while Peter quickly dragged you away from the fighting, trying to get some distance between him and the highly trained spy. He pushed the barrel of the gun against your temple and demanded her to stop.

The henchmen fell limp to the ground when she raised her hands in surrender.

“Is this what you want?” Natasha questioned, pulling out your cell phone. “This has everything Y/N took.”

“I didn’t take-” Your voice got caught in your throat when the barrel of the gun dug deeper into your skin.

“You can have it. You just have to let her go.”

“Slide it over here.” Natasha slowly bent down and slid the phone across the floor. You felt it bump against your foot when it reached you. And you were able to breathe when Peter quickly snagged it off of the ground, the gun leaving you. He didn’t even bother checking it, just shoving it inside his suit jacket.

“Just let her go now,” Natasha demanded, taking a risky step forward.

Peter hummed thoughtfully, shrugging nonchalantly as he said, “No, I don’t think so.”

You felt him push the gun against your temple again, your eyes widening as you made eye contact with Natasha, who looked just as afraid as you probably did. A gunshot rang through your ears and you felt yourself fall over, watching Natasha’s legs run to you.

Was this it? Was this death? Because nothing changed. It still looked like the same old, nasty, smelly basement you were just in.

Natasha helped you to sit up and you realized that you weren’t shot, but Peter was. You could tell by the way he was holding his stomach as he ran away, his form getting smaller and smaller until he disappeared behind the door. Clint soon joined Natasha’s side, a wide smile on his face as he tucked away his gun.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked as she reached over to cut your restraints.

“I’m fine.” You smiled at her. “You came.”

She mirrored your smile as she cupped your face gently, not wanting to hurt you, her thumb running soft circles across your skin. “Of course I came,” she declared. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.”

“No, I’m sorry for overreacting,” you stated, shaking your head in between her hands. “You were only trying to protect me. Which I clearly need.”

She chuckled softly. “We’re both sorry then.”

“Looks like it.” You licked your lips, sending her a soft smirk. You leaned forward, connecting her lips to yours in a kiss that accepted both apologies. You pulled apart when Clint cleared his throat. “What about Peter? You gave him the phone.”

She shrugged as she helped you to your feet, wrapping one of your arms around her neck as Clint took your other side. “He’s not going to get very far,” she assured you. “You should worry about yourself. You got shot.”

“I’m just trying to catch up to all your scars,” you told her.

A faint red colored her cheeks as she smiled brightly, walking you out of the basement. “You’re going to need to do a lot of gunfights then,” she said.

“Oh, you know what? I’ll just let you win that.”

“You two are cute,” Clint commented and you laughed when she sent him a glare.

You were loaded up onto a gurney when you were brought outside the building, letting a paramedic mend to your wounds as you held onto Natasha’s hand tightly. You watched as Peter was wheeled past you on another gurney, smiling when you saw his handcuffed wrist attached to the railing.

They guided you to the back of an ambulance, but you refused to release Natasha’s hand. “You’re going to stay with me, right?”

“I’ll be in the car behind-” She paused when she saw your expression and she sighed, a smile tugging her lips as she looked at the paramedic. “You think I can ride in the ambulance?”

He shrugged in response, either not knowing or not caring. It didn’t matter, she joined you in the back anyway.

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Monday, 11:54p.m.; Hospital

“Good morning.” Your eyes immediately found Natasha’s smiling face as she greeted you sitting close to your bed as you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. “You slept for a long time, Y/N. You really did need sleep, didn’t you?”

“It’s been a long day, Nat. And here I thought it was all a dream,” you stated, using your free hand to rub one of your eyes as your other one hurt to move, resting inside a sling. “I should’ve known better. It was definitely an absolute nightmare.”

“Well, I was in it, so it wasn’t that bad,” she retorted and you laughed. She sighed thoughtfully, watching you for a moment. “You did really good, Y/N. We managed to take down a lot of Roxxon locations because of the information you took, and we’re still working on the rest of them. A lot of Roxxon heads are getting arrested and they’re ratting out their partners. Our names our cleared. You saved a lot of people. Even if it was completely unintentional.”

“You did most of the work,” you breathed out, your head falling to the side as you rested your eyes. “I’m pretty sure I would’ve been dead the first hour if you hadn’t been watching me.”

When she started drawing random shapes on your good arm with her fingers, you opened your eyes, resting her chin in her other hand. “Yeah, you definitely would’ve fallen off that hotel if it wasn’t for me.”

“Alright.” She laughed as you rolled your eyes. “Let’s be real here, Nat. I wouldn’t have even gone onto that ledge.” The laughter settled down between the two of you as you caught her drawing hand into yours, bringing it down to squeeze her gently as you stared at the intertwined hands. “Now that I’m out of a job, I’m going to have to go searching for one.”

“Yeah, about that…” She trailed off, sending you a cheeky smile when you looked back up at her. “I spoke with my boss and he says we have an opening in the IT department at SHIELD.” Your eyes widened with excitement. “You don’t have to take it, obviously, but I… don’t really want to go our separate ways.”

“Wait, what time is it?”

Her eyes instinctively went to the clock hanging above the door. “11:58.”

“Alright, just wait two minutes.”

She looked back at you with confusion, tilting her head to the side. “Why?”

“Because this day is terrible and I want to start a new one with good news,” you answered. “Now, just shut up for two minutes.”

She chuckled lightly as silence engulfed the two of you comfortably, both of you staring at each other as the clock ticked on the wall. You have enough stories to tell for a lifetime that happened in just under twenty-four hours and the only good thing that came out of it was Natasha. Well, and saving the world, but you could do that any other day.

You both looked at the clock at the same time, watching as the second hand struck that last second, the minute hand landing on the twelve perfectly, and you turned back to look at each other. “I will definitely take that job,” you told her and she shook her head, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips, but you pulled away to send her a sheepish smile.

“What?”

“I’m hungry.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll go get you some food.” You laughed when she pushed your forehead gently as she stood up, making her way to the door. She lingered for a moment, staring at you for what felt like an eternity, before leaving the room.

You knew your life was going to be so much better with her in it.