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The mission, if Kate could even call it that, had unequivocally gone to shit.
It had been months since she had finished her mentorship with Clint. Despite been trained, having a former Avenger teaching her was invaluable. Bonus points for being her favorite. She learned how to fight more effectively with a bow without relying on arrows, hand-to-hand combat training opened up new possibilities, how to make trick arrows without access to fancier technology was something that would be very helpful, and the rest of the Bartons practically adopted her as an older sister. It seemed like a summer camp which she thoroughly enjoyed.
But sooner or later she would have to return to reality.
While she was away, things in New York changed for the worse. Wilson Fisk was the new mayor, and his office started enforcing a new policy banning any acts of vigilantism. Basically, banning superheroes from the entire city.
Could he sound any more like a villain?
But that policy was what gave him such a large margin of victory. No matter how they went about their rhetoric and the speech flaws, in the eyes of the public, the Avengers were just as guilty, if not more so than Thanos for not stopping him from wiping out half the world.
Crime in general rose dramatically as a result, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that Fisk was also taking advantage of the chaos.
The city needed heroes now more than ever, and Kate felt compelled to answer the call.
Clint asked her to reconsider. He couldn't leave his family again, and if she was going to come back to the city, she would do so on her own.
Maybe Kate would agree with him now.
The new Hawkeye not only had to defend herself from the criminals she sought to stop, but also from the police who had orders to stop anyone who didn't have the same uniform as them.
At first, Kate's rounds around the city went as well as they could despite all the extra handicaps she now had.
The news, obviously the ones from sources Fisk had in his pocket, said that things had never been better and that heroes no longer showed their faces for fear of being imprisoned.
Translation: they had not been able to capture any yet.
Maybe it was her confidence in that assumption, the training she received, or the luck with which she was able to carry out justice up to that point. Whatever the reason, Kate Bishop ended up getting herself into a predicament too big for her.
Everything would’ve made any other more experienced hero to hesitate: an anonymous call of a kidnapping, a trail of crumbs leading to a warehouse too far from the city, no resistance to enter.
The alarms in her head went off too late when she found no one in the center of the place and the lights of the whole place turned on. Someone told her to get out of there with her hands up, but it couldn't be a warning because when she got a little closer to the door of the room where she was a bullet passed dangerously close, and soon hundreds more followed.
The wall behind which she hid could barely withstand the subsequent burst. It was not the first time she had been shot, but the caliber of the weapons these people had were bigger than those of the fourth-rate criminals and third-rate mobsters she was used to dealing with.
Fortunately, not all of her equipment consisted of her bow and arrows, so when they stopped shooting, she took those precious seconds to take the safety off a flash grenade and throw it through the door. After that, Kate crossed, also firing a variety of crowd control arrows: gas, smoke, electrocution, enough to incapacitate some and count the remaining ones.
With a modest estimate, she could make out about thirty people.
‘A bit of an overkill’, she thought.
She ran to the bottom of the stairs on the second floor she was on, remembering that at the end of that room was a window she could use to escape.
She got there and was ready to jump, but another burst of gunfire blocked her exit and forced her to take cover again. There were more people outside waiting for her.
When everything calmed down a bit, she waited for another warning or a proposal, but it seemed that these were not the kind of criminals who were looking for that. Instead, footsteps were heard on the metal floor she had crossed earlier to get there.
They were trying to trap her there and she didn't want to even imagine what would happen next. Through a number of holes left by some bullets, she saw that they were five people from below coming in single file towards where she was.
It was the sonic arrow's turn. She fired it and although she received shots in her direction, none hit her, but her projectile did implode, incapacitating the three who were in front. She still had the remaining two left, and they didn't stop shooting while they entered, but that meant they’ll be running out of bullets before hitting their target.
The one in front was stripped of his weapon after Kate hit him hard in the hands using her bow and then in the stomach. He became disoriented and it was easy to push him out so that he would collide with his partner, who was trying to reload, but when he concentrated on moving away whoever was blocking him, the new Hawkeye also hit him, this time in the face, causing him to drop his weapon.
Although it didn't seem like it, Kate was considerably strong. It had to be so that he could handle the tension of his bow.
She used the man's arm and twisted it until it touched his lower back, and with the disorientation from the blow to the face it was easy to force him to walk and protect her. They took a few steps until they could see the group on the lower level who were already aiming at them.
Her plan was to use the guy as a human shield to get out of there. Before she could threaten them, she was interrupted by a shot that went through the face of her hostage.
Her second mistake of the night was thinking that he was not dispensable, surely like the others.
Kate and her surprised face had to hide behind the man who was shot after many more bullets followed the first. The unresponsive body she was now holding added to the instinctive action of retreating caused the railing to make her fall from what was equivalent to the first floor of a building.
The fall was nasty, but it wasn't obvious that anything had broken yet so she endured the pain and without allowing herself to blame herself for the death of a person she ran behind the factory equipment there.
She tried to remember where the exits were. After all, a factory must have more than one, but it was most likely they were all guarded.
More bullets bounced off the abandoned equipment there and this sent her running from cover to cover. Occasionally she would fire arrows that hit her targets, but even though she incapacitated them, she couldn't keep up the pace, finding herself overwhelmed and looking for another abandoned machine to hide behind every time she was found.
The last large piece of machinery at the end of the factory kept her safe from more shots and it would have to do so for longer as she once again found herself trapped. She muttered curses as she found it difficult to think of a way to escaped; the back of her head rested against the cold metal she used as a last defense.
She wasn't ready to die, at least not yet.
The people who cornered her walked on both sides in a pincer movement and made sure Hawkeye didn't escape. There were eleven of them in total and they were carefully moving closer and closer. She couldn't escape, much less use her shoot and hide strategy, because if she showed her face she would get a bullet for the effort.
Before any of the groups could shorten the distance, an arrow was shot. Instead of going in either of the two directions her attackers were coming from it went to the side. Some of them laughed because they thought Kate was panicking and that's why she was making erratic decisions. It seemed that karma dictated that the one who was laughing the most and furthest to the left side away from the wall was silenced by said arrow, which made a curved trajectory and finally knocked him out with a blow to the head.
And she criticized Clint for the very idea of a boomerang arrow.
Those on the left side were surprised and on the right side everyone turned to see what was happening, that was when two smoke grenades were thrown, and it didn't take long for them to envelop both groups.
Even though the lights were still on to give Kate's stealth a disadvantage, she managed to use the density of the smoke to fire a couple of arrows simultaneously.
There was just one detail: she had run out of trick arrows.
Her projectiles ended up in the stomach of one and in the right pectoral of another. Considering them out of combat. As she walked, she aimed and fired trying to hit less lethal places: in the shoulder, in the upper back, in the legs, but that precision cost her time and sooner or later someone would take advantage of it.
As she went for another arrow from her quiver she was tackled and knocked down. She struggled with the guy and managed to land a couple of punches and a kick that made him get off of her, before finally hitting him square in the face with her bow and knocking him out. The victory was short-lived as another one managed to take the bow from her and throw it away, which created a big problem.
The punch that followed was easy to avoid and she responded with a hook to the stomach, although Kate couldn't avoid a kick to her lower back. She tried to respond, but after turning around to retaliate she ended up on the ground and this time her hands were restricted while the one who knocked her down refused to give her a chance to get up, keeping her on the ground with his own weight.
Despite receiving a few hits while she was restrained, Kate kept trying to get up, failing each time. Amidst the struggles and screams of everyone involved, she could see someone approaching through the smoke that was dissipating. He had a gun in one hand and an arrow protruding from the opposite shoulder.
She tried even harder to get away and free herself from what was coming. She almost made it a couple of times, but it was clear she wouldn’t do it.
When the barrel of the gun rose to deliver the shot these guys had finally been looking for for what seemed like an eternity, Kate saw everything as if it were happening in slow motion: she was pointed at and with no way out.
A shot echoed.
It wasn’t for her.
It came from behind the one who was aiming at her. The bullet went through his head, causing him to fall forward and his limp body to land near them. The one holding her arms let her go and took the gun from the corpse, but before he could raise it, he was also shot in the head.
“Let her go!” the newcomer shouted.
It was a familiar voice. With a very thick accent.
She could shoot the last guy just as easily, but Kate assumed that because of the position his captor was in, her savior didn't want to risk it. The weight she felt began to lessen until the guy was on his knees with his hands up in surrender.
That wouldn't save him from having his brains spilled out on the floor as well. What did help him avoid it were the bullets of those who recovered from Kate's earlier shots and sought their personal revenge, but they were soon outmatched by the aim of a professional assassin.
While she was dealing with the interruptions, the person she allowed to live a few more seconds didn't take advantage of the opportunity to get away, instead drawing his own gun from his holster with very clear intentions.
Kate didn't think about the next part too much, she mustn’t have even fully processed it when she acted. It seemed more like a reaction to quickly remove the arrow from the shoulder of the body that fell next to them and to sink the tip into the throat of the man who was aiming at her friend. Ironically, hitting him where the Adam's apple was.
The man dropped the gun and tried in vain to contain the gushes of blood escaping from the wound. He agonized for a few seconds after falling on top of her, dying shortly after.
Kate pushed him off with difficulty. She allowed herself to take a few breaths, but her rest was soon ended by a pair of hands picking her by her shoulders. The adrenaline was still running through her, and she was still on edge and ready to fight, fortunately the person who approached her was not an enemy, although a lifetime ago she began as one.
“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, calm down.” Yelena Belova's voice was comforting, and she couldn't help but sound with a mix worry and relief.
“Yelena?” Kate asked confused, even though it was undoubtedly the former Black Widow. She released her grip on the hands holding her shoulders, but only a little.
“Yes, yes. It's me.” The assassin let go of the heroine's shoulders and instead cupped her face in her hands. She seemed to be checking her facial wounds and getting her to pay attention. “Listen, there's nothing more I want to do than chat, but we have to get out of here. Can you stand up?”
Kate quickly processed what she was told and nodded profusely. Yelena helped her stand up and thought she would need help to walk, but she seemed fine, at least physically, she even went to pick up her bow from the ground and counted the arrows she still had left. They were few, so she would have to make them work.
The exit was tense for Kate who was now more than willing to take the shots that Clint asked her to avoid as much as possible. Fortunately for her, it wasn't necessary. Everyone who had been waiting for her outside before now laid dead.
She didn't ask for an explanation and her new partner didn't seem to want to give one, she didn't even have a gun in her hand but the keys to the vehicle closest to them. Yelena got into the driver's seat and motioned for her co-pilot to accompany her, and Kate did.
The ride back had been silent. The only attempt at conversation was Kate trying to guide her to where she lived now. Yelena told her that she already knew where it was.
That brought a small smile to the archer.
They arrived at the building and left the car in an alley with the keys in the ignition. With a bit of luck, someone would steal it, and they wouldn't worry about it. It was that kind of neighborhood.
The climb up the fire escape was particularly painful for Hawkeye; now that the adrenaline had subsided, her body let her know which places would require extra care.
Yelena entered first through the window and after a quick check she told Kate that she could enter, which she did with a bit of difficulty. Her leg hurt and made her limp, the blow of the fall was cushioned by her shoulder blade and the right arm which she uses to pull the bowstring, her face had some cuts and was starting to swell from the blows.
The blood that covered her suit? That wasn't hers.
Thankfully the couch was a few steps away and she sat down on it to allow herself to feel the pain. She wanted to sleep, to lose consciousness and she received a scolding for it:
“Don't sleep, Kate Bishop. You might get a concussion and that can make things worse.”
The archer grunted in response, snapped out of it, and sat up straighter. To help her stay awake, Lucky finally decided to get up from his bed and greet her.
“Hey, buddy. Did you take good care of the hou- Ah! Shit!” That reaction came when she tried to reach out to pat the pet and made Kate return to her original position.
“Hey, Lucky! Did you miss me?” The Russian said cheerfully carrying a tray that served as a first aid kit. She pet the dog before tending to the heroine in the room who was finally complaining about the pain. “What a potty mouth, Kate Bishop. Let me have a look.”
It was implied that she could go over and help her patch the wounds, but it was nice to ask. What wasn’t as nice was moving too much in the areas that clearly hurt her. Nothing was broken, the cuts weren’t deep, and she didn’t show signs of head trauma. The treatment would be simple: ice packs for the swollen areas, cleaning and disinfecting the small wounds, and rest for a few days.
Kate wouldn’t listen to the last one.
“Fine. If that’s all…” Yelena said with a hint of anger and heading for the door. “Good night.”
“What?” Kate asked dumbfounded as she awkwardly stood up.
“Good night. Don’t you say that in this country?”
“You know we do, but that’s not the point. Why are you leaving?”
“I don’t think I’ll find a place to sleep if we spend too long catching up.” She replied matter-of-factly.
“After what happened, you’re just going to leave like that? Without explaining anything? They almost killed us!”
“They almost killed YOU!” Yelena replied releasing that feeling of anger she built up. “I had to go out and save you.”
“…I could handle it myself.”
“Мудак! You rushed in and you almost died, Kate!”
“How…? How did you find me?”
“I came here to surprise you with that girls’ night out on the town, like you promised. I saw your conspiracy board in the kitchen, heard a message on your answering machine, and figured you went into a trap. Damnit, I didn’t even change…”
Now that she mentioned it, Kate noticed that Yelena wasn’t wearing her typical white suit, but an outfit very similar to the one she wore when she first broke into her other apartment, with a couple holsters for her guns and the Widow’s Bite gauntlets over the sleeves of the black jacket.
“It looks cute.” Kate commended.
“I know it looks cute!”
Kate started laughing, and Yelena couldn’t hold back a couple of heartfelt giggles. Once the lightness took over the atmosphere, the assassin’s tone changed as well:
“Damn it, Kate Bishop. I’d rather yell at you now than say ‘I told you so’ to a coffin.”
“Wow, that sound grim.”
“I’m from Russia. What did you expect?”
Kate didn’t want to push her luck, but she felt compelled to push.
“So…?” Was all she dared to ask, hoping Yelena wouldn’t force her to continue and risk being vulnerable in front of her… again.
The assassin immediately knew the point her friend was trying to get at with such a short question. Her anger and frustration hadn’t completely disappeared, but it subsided enough to keep her from being condescending or sarcastic.
“I guess someone has to look after Lucky if you don’t pass the night.”
Well, not completely, but Hawkeye would have to take what was offered to her. Even if she felt like burning for not being able to answer her. So, she just nodded a few times. That would suffice as a thank you.
Now that her body was aching and she needed a rest that she wouldn’t object to, Kate once again found herself in an awkward position: the worry that Yelena would leave her made her ignore her injuries and now she noticed how difficult it was to move on her own.
“Yelena… you know, it’s hard for me to move and…”
“Ugh! Very well!”
That would be Kate’s revenge.
The assassin took the archer’s good arm for support and slowly they both made their way to the main room. The small size of the new apartment made the trip short.
Once there, and delicately, Yelena helped Kate to lie down. Everything she did so far, including wound care and how to tend to someone who was hurt, doesn't seem to be something the Widows were taught in the Red Room, but rather something the assassin learned on her own, surely on her many missions rescuing other Widows from their mind control.
“Do you need anything else, miss?” It was a sarcastic question, though with a hint of playfulness rather than annoyance on Yelena's part.
“Some warm milk and a bedtime story would be great.”
“That or a pinch on the neck to put you to sleep.”
“Someone watched Star Trek.”
“That's right and I really need to see if it works.”
“It's either that or…”
“A classic punch to the face.”
“I'm fine.”
“Get some rest, Kate Bishop.” The assassin ordered, not realizing (or maybe she did) that she had gently placed her hand on the back of her patient's hand.
Neither of them commented on it, but Kate, even through the dull pain she still felt, could notice the absence of the warmth from her hand. Yelena was about to cross the threshold of the door when the archer stopped her with a few words:
“I’ll make you macaroni in the morning!” It was a vague offer, and the only thing Kate could think to say to make her friend stay in the morning.
“That’s not all I eat, Kate Bishop.” A smirk graced the comment, and she made a counteroffer: “If you’re still here in the morning, I’ll make you some Blini or Draniki.”
“I have no idea what that is.”
“You’ll love them.” She gave her single wink and added in good faith, “Good night.”
“Good night.”
The door closed softly, leaving Kate alone with her pain and thoughts. Yelena told her that she couldn’t sleep with the ice packs and that a good night’s rest would help keep the inflammation in her muscles in order.
As for the rest… That night the assassin showed her mercy because she was clearly able to go point by point in order to show the person she saved why what she did was stupid.
The ambush, the close brushes with death, and of course…
The person whose life she just outright took.
There was blood on her hands. She couldn’t lift them, but she knew it was there. That was the figurative. Literally, her suit was soaked with the now dry, viscous liquid. She couldn't take her clothes off without feeling a sharp pain in her body, so she would have to sleep with her mistakes imprinted on her.
She still remembers the force with which she sank the arrowhead, how the muscles twisted through the stick reaching her hand, and how warm the blood was that soaked her.
She could tell she did it to save Yelena and herself. Hell, she'll tell her that over breakfast. But taking away a life isn't something Kate is used to and the idea of being forced to do it again would keep her up all night… if it weren't for the physical pain, the fatigue, the blows to the face, and the medications she took that would soon render her unconscious in no time.
Her eyes were beginning to weigh on her and those thoughts would have time to haunt her when she woke up.