The night air was cool, the faint hum of the city below us a distant backdrop to the tension crackling between me and Hawkeye. He stood there, his bow still in hand but no longer aimed at me, his sharp eyes studying me with a mix of curiosity and wariness. I leaned casually against the bridge tower, my arms crossed, my tone light but laced with an edge that kept him on guard.
"Great that you understand, Agent Barton," I said, breaking the silence. "It would feel bad for me to kill you."
Hawkeye snorted, his lips curling into a sarcastic smirk. "Don't know that a man like you could feel bad, Wraith. And how do you know my name?"
I shrugged; my expression amused. "Well, wouldn't you want to know?"
His eyes narrowed, and I could see the gears turning in his head. He was an agent, after all—every word, every action was calculated to extract information. He was fishing, trying to piece together whatever he could about me. Little did he know, I was about to give him more than he bargained for.
"Oh, I definitely would," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Humor me, Wraith."
I tilted my head, a faint smile playing on my lips. "I know a lot of things, Agent Barton. Things like how you're currently 'dating' someone, planning to get 'married' soon. Or how your boss, Nick Fury, didn't lose his eye in some glorious battle—it was a cat, wasn't it? Oh~ looks like he told everyone something else,"
The moment the words left my mouth; I saw the shift in his demeanor. His casual, snarky attitude faltered, replaced by genuine shock. His grip on his bow tightened, and his body language shifted into high alert. I'd hit a nerve—one he hadn't expected me to know about.
"Don't worry, Agent Barton," I said, my tone softening just enough to ease the tension. "I'm not going to harm you or anyone close to you. I'm not that heartless."
Hawkeye's eyes narrowed; his voice sharp. "Said the man who gutted a woman in cold blood."
I didn't flinch. "That woman was evil. She racially and wrongly prosecuted 300 innocent people, freed murderers, criminals, and all sorts of scum inside the courtroom. Did you know about that?"
He hesitated, and I saw the answer in his eyes. He didn't. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't.
"You and your secret agency didn't know about any of it, did you?" I pressed, my voice calm but cutting. "Every single person I've killed was guilty. The worst kind of human filth. Yet you all don't even have a clue how dirty these people are."
Hawkeye was silent, his jaw clenched as he processed my words. I could see the conflict in his eyes—the doubt creeping in. I pressed my advantage.
"You think you're protecting the world in secret? Doing something for mankind? No. Your agency protects the interests of the American government and its allies. That's it. Plain and simple… stop attaching 'for the safety of mankind' to your motto, it was disgusting,"
His silence was telling. I continued, my tone growing colder. "I know for a fact that when I left those two folders, you found out what was in them. Instead of punishing the people on that list, you tried to weaponize the information, didn't you? You put shackles on them, turned them into your pawns. Am I wrong?"
Hawkeye didn't respond. Maybe he didn't know the full extent of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s machinations. After all, he was the good soldier in Fury's playbook—loyal, dependable, but not always privy to the darker secrets.
Finally, he broke the silence, his voice low and measured. "Why are you doing this, Wraith?"
I met his gaze, my expression unreadable. "Because it needs to be done. So, I do it." I paused, then added, "By the way, you all know about mutants, right?"
He hesitated, then nodded cautiously. "...Yes."
"Good," I said, my tone shifting to something darker, more menacing. "Tell that bald, one-eyed pirate you call boss that from now on, he's to stay away from mutants. All the secret projects, all the experiments—shut them down. Back away from them. Now."
The tension between us was palpable, the air thick with unspoken threats. Hawkeye's grip on his bow tightened, his knuckles white. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he stared at me, his mind racing to process the weight of my words.
Hawkeye stood his ground, his jaw clenched as he stared me down. Despite the tension, there was a flicker of defiance in his eyes. "What are you going to do about it if we ignore you?" he asked, his voice steady but laced with challenge.
I shrugged, my tone light and almost casual. "This isn't a favor or a request. You can ignore it altogether if you want to." I turned and began to walk away, my footsteps slow and deliberate. Behind me, I could feel Hawkeye's gaze following me, his tension easing slightly as I moved further away.
But then, in the blink of an eye, I was behind him. I moved so fast he didn't even have time to react. I plucked an arrow from his quiver and pressed the sharp tip against his eyeball, my voice low and menacing. "Ignore my warning, and I will wage a war against the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D. When that moment comes, I will tear you apart, limb from limb. I'll gut every single one of you, starting with you, Nicholas Joseph Fury."
I let the words sink in, the weight of the threat hanging heavy in the air. Then, with a calmness that contrasted sharply with the violence of my words, I slid the arrow back into his quiver and stepped away.
Hawkeye exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "You're quite fast, you know that," he said, his tone a mix of resignation and grudging respect.
"That I am," I replied, my voice lighter now. "Just a little bit. You're a good guy, Agent Barton. Train a bit more—focus on stamina and cardio. You'll be needing that a lot." I gave him a small nod, signaling that the intense part of our conversation was over.
He chuckled dryly, shaking his head. "Noted."
I tilted my head, curiosity getting the better of me. "By the way, honest question—why don't you use guns? Seems like they'd be more efficient."
Hawkeye hesitated for a moment, then answered honestly. "Personal preference. Guns remind me too much of war and violence. They're weapons for mass killing. Doesn't sit well with me."
I mused on his answer, a faint smile playing on my lips. "Hm. To each their own, I suppose." In my head, I couldn't help but think that bows and arrows were once instruments of war too. But I didn't press the issue. Everyone had their reasons, and his were his own.
Before I could say more, I sensed movement behind me. I turned slightly to see Black Widow—Natasha Romanoff—approaching. She looked exactly as she did in the movies, though, if possible, even more striking in person. Her tight black uniform accentuated her curves, and her presence was as commanding as it was alluring. She was breathtaking, a true femme fatale.
"Black Widow, I presume?" I said, my tone calm but appreciative.
She stopped a few feet away, her sharp eyes studying me with a mix of curiosity and caution. "That's me," she replied, her voice smooth but guarded.
"You're breathtaking," I said honestly, my gaze lingering on her for a moment. "Sadly, you only use that beauty of yours as a weapon."
Both Hawkeye and Black Widow froze, clearly caught off guard by my bluntness. Hawkeye looked flustered, while Natasha's expression shifted to one of mild incredulity.
"Are you hitting on me?" she asked, her tone a mix of amusement and disbelief.
I shrugged, my smile widening. "Yes. If we'd met under different circumstances, I'm sure we could've dated—maybe even gotten married. Probably could've had a child together too."
The mention of family and children visibly stung her, a flicker of pain crossing her features before she masked it. Hawkeye, meanwhile, looked like he wanted to interject but wasn't sure how.
"Hold on a minute," he finally said, raising a hand as if to stop the conversation.
I waved him off, my tone turning serious again. "Not that it matters now. Also, Hawkeye, make sure your boss listens to our conversation. Make sure he knows I'm not messing around."
With that, I turned and walked past Black Widow, heading toward the edge of the bridge. I could feel their eyes on me as I stepped over the ledge and let myself fall into the darkness below. Before I vanished from sight, I heard Hawkeye mutter something under his breath, but I was already gone, disappearing into the night like a shadow.