The Story of a Bird and Spider || Clintasha

7

"The Black Widow is like an onion. For one, she has layers and layers of secrets, aliases, and just experiences. Onions are layers of, well, onion. But each layer is different than the last, and closer to the middle.

"Another way she's like an onion is each layer you cut into, a new emotion is given. With an actual onion, you're fine until you start slicing it. Most will tear up. Of course, I can't remember the last time I've ever cut onions, so maybe I have this all wrong.

"My point is that each day I learn something else about Natasha, and each time I learn it, I feel different about her. If I put it like that, I guess it really has nothing to do with onions."

"Back at square one. Still stranded, and in the woods by the Danube River once more. History repeats itself for those who don't learn, I suppose. I guess I didn't really expect Natasha to board the plane and leave, but I certainly didn't expect the blood spill at the airport.

"Natasha doesn't seem to be doing so well."

"Knowing Natasha's past makes it easier to trust her. I think she's finally beginning to trust me, too. I can't quite wrap my mind around how twisted Nat really was forced to be, but that's all done and gone. She has a chance at a new beginning. I know she'll take it."

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14. Hungary: Budapest, Sunday, August 16, 14:49

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Natasha Romanoff cracks inside. She shatters, her perspective of life blown from the water. It feels like her heart is being cut open, and a handful of salt from every single person she's ever killed is being poured onto the wounds. And then a whole dead child's shoe of hot peppers. Everything feels like it's burning.

Her mind goes numb. All the noises blend together until it just sounds like a buzzing noise in her mind. Blind-- she feels blind. The human in her is as dead as the family members just killed. But, the Black Widow lives.

The Black Widow is heartless. She moves with instinct. She breathes through her skin, feeling the rush of adrenaline. The Black Widow doesn't need a heart, a brain, or lungs. The Black Widow doesn't feel pain.

Her eyes are open, but they feel closed. She feels like a shell, and whatever is inside is cowering. However, the shell moves. It looks like her. It moves like her. She just can't feel it.

With this mind set, she stands.

A hand grenade explodes, and Clint puts the bandana over his nose and mouth and climbs higher up the ladder. Balancing precariously, he sees Natasha kick a limp arm off a rifle, which she takes into her hands. Even from here, he can hear the sound of her cocking the weapon because she's the only thing he's focused on.

Two bullet shots hit the plaster wall next to Clint's face, making the dust fly onto him. He's caught off guard. Losing his balance, he begins to fall, but he catches his boot into a rung. Hanging upside down by one foot, he wheezes and strains to get back up.

For the two bullets that missed him, two arrows slip out of his quiver and tumble down. Another bullet sinks into the wall farther away, though Clint has curled up and grabbed another rung with his right hand.

Going behind the ladder to hold his position, he takes out two shooters with one regular arrow. The motion somehow reminds him of something from his past.

"Bobbi, get out!" Hawkeye yells, pushing Mockingbird into the cart. Crossfire shouts angrily, grabbing his own head in frustration about being knocked down by a woman. Especially since it's the same woman he just had cooped up in his cell.