Chapter Text
Clint had been trying to find his latest assignment for over a month. He had never had this much trouble finding someone. It was almost as though she didn’t exist. Though as he fought her on a dark rooftop in Budapest, he knew she was very real. Under her black mask and hood, she was considerably smaller than him. But for what she lacked in height, she made up for in perhaps the best combat skills he’d ever seen.
He managed to get her in a chokehold, ready to slit her throat, but not before she slammed her heel into his foot and escaped as his grip loosened. He pushed her hard before she could regain her balance, ripping off her mask. She took out her knife and whipped around, ready to strike back, only to be met with the sharp end of an arrow.
Clint looked down at her, ready to shoot. Now that he’d finally got a good look at her without her mask and hood, he realized she was just a kid. Probably no older than 17. ‘She should be goofing off in school, not here’, he thought.
“Agent Barton, do you copy?” came Coulson’s voice over Clint’s ear comm. “Barton?”
“ ... I copy.” Clint responded.
“Is the target eliminated?” Coulson asked.
“Sir… I think… the target may be a minor.” Clint said, hesitantly. He heard Coulson let out an empathetic over comms.
“ … that’s unfortunate… Is it gonna be a problem?”
Something was telling him not to shoot, she doesn’t want to be doing this, she isn't the cold-blooded killer everyone said she is.
She’s trapped.
Natalia subconsciously shook her head. She didn't know why she did it. She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to get back to her daughter. She wanted to be with her family again. She wanted to get out, so she'd waited for years for the right time. This would be an embarrassing way to die. If she did, all those years of training, waiting, pushing herself beyond her limits, it would be for nothing. She refused to go out like this.
Clint lowered his bow, and the widow took the opportunity to kick his feet out from under him, throw her grappling hook, and leap off the roof into the night. He watched from the floor, with so many questions for himself and for her. Realization hit him as he knew he'd have to explain to everyone why he didn't take the shot, why he left the roof unscathed and could've killed her.