Clintasha- The beginning

Assasins don't sleep

Okay sorry this is a really short one but the next one will be longer I promise! There is also going to be a change of perpective in the upcoming chapter so stay tuned asnd feel free to leave message!
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The top part is glass so I may be able to see him. I crouch behind the door not wanting him to see me.
When I think he is far enough away (because his footsteps are getting lighter) I peek trough the glass. Barton has his back turned to me.
I can see him throwing punches and kicks towards an old punching bag that I haven't seen this morning. I watch him for about half an hour before he unhooks the punching bag and carries it towards the end of the training room where he drops it on the ground next to a locker.
He unlocks it and takes his bow plus a quiver with two dozen arrows out.
I remember the weapon from when he had me at gunpoint but I've never actually seen him fire it.
Well not really. He did shoot an arrow at me but it was meant to miss so that doesn't count. He walks to the other side of the room to place some targets at different heights. Then he moves to the very back of the raining room and aims his first arrow. I can see him inhale and exhale his eyes never leaving the target.
Bulls eye. Not bad. The rest of the arrows also hit their marks black centre or splitting the ones he shot before. When he retrieves them Barton examines each one and throws some in the trash can. The others wander back into its locker together with the black recurve bow.

He handles every piece of his gear with a caution only those have who know that their lives depend on it. I almost scream when loud Rock music begins to play.
"How did I miss that?" I think and realise that the first hour was only warm up when I see him moving around the robot dummies hitting every single one of them in the first 10 seconds.
After he almost trashed them he shuts the dummies down and moves back to get his punching bag. It must be his own because it does not fit in the high tech atmosphere of the rest of the room.
Barton doesn't even bother to put on the gloves he wore earlier, instead he just wraps his hands and starts to throw punches. I watch him curiously, recognizing a pain in his eyes I know to well. I can see all his emotions at once. Pain. Agony. Regret. Guilt. Anger. And self-hate.

But there is no sigh of fear, not a trace of the haunted look I got so often from the ones I killed for Ivan. He may be broken like me but he is still dangerous. Suddenly I realise how much we have in common. I don't think he is here to train. He is here because he can't sleep either. Because he isn't able to rest for a long time. He needs the action like I do. Its a thing people like us can't live without.

I hear a loud "thund" and snap out of my thoughts back into reality. The punching bag lays on the ground several feet away from Barton. The chain broken beside it. I hear him sigh
"You can come in! I know you were watching the whole time." He shouts to be heard over the loud music. Damn he saw me!
"Fuck" I mutter under my breath before walking through the door. I feel like I am entering a personal space here, like I am a disturbance to his little world.
Castle of Glass (linkin park) starts playing just as he walked towards the ghettoblaster to turn it off and right now he looks like that "creak in a castle of glass" the song was about.

Standing there with a hint of embarrassment and guilt in his eyes looking like he hadn't slept in days, I realized he probably hadn't. With blood slowly dripping from his fists on the training mat leaving dark red spots on the grey surface.
It only last for a second then he slippes back in his cold and distant gaze I am used to see. His face showing no emotion
"Why did you follow me?"
"I wanted to see where you went in the middle of the night." He nodded. "So now you saw." Barton stated and put the punching bag away.
It had been taped at several places and looked like he used it very often. "You come here a lot, don't you?" I ask watching him as he unwrapped his injured hands.
Right now standing there just in his gym shorts and sweat bands around his wrists he looked like some boxing champion who just had the fight of his life.
"Alright" he stopped my thoughts. "I am going to shower then we hit a bar ok?" He smirked at me. The same devilish and yet challenging smirk he had used earlier.
"Fine" I respond after thinking about it for a moment "You're paying." He smiles at me and then turns to the men's locker room.
Yet again I wonder where he got so many scars. Some of them look quite lethal. From how they appear he must have been at least trough as much as I have in his life. Surprisingly this makes me feel somehow connected to him. Like we share a common fate. And common demons.
"Don't get attached Natasha." I scold myself. There are no friends in this world. Not for you at least.

I am glad I already changed into my normal clothes before following him so I just have to get my shoes. I hurry to our room, no his room, I correct myself. Knowing that he would be done any moment.
"There is no "our" or "we" in your life Natasha." I hear Ivan's voice in my head. "You are meant to be alone. That's your purpose. That and killing."
I shake my head trying to shove the memories away.