Budapest

Chapter 11:

Clint: I got off the phone with Fury, instantly in a worse mood. "So what were you saying about being top spy?" I asked.

"Saying how bad I don't want to tell you that story," Natasha said.

"Would you rather tell me or my superior, who is coming to get the truth out of you right now?" I asked. She looked down. She knew there was only one option or the other, no in between.

"Please, don't make me tell you?" she begged, her voice barely a whisper. She shook her head, "I can't."

"Try," I said, "Because I get the feeling that you would rather talk to me then Fury."

"His name is Fury?" she asked, her voice a little more perky now, "And you say I have a bad boss."

"I know he's not as bad a yours," I said, "Listen, we can head back to the room, you can tell me, and I can tell Fury. But you have to tell one of us. You can choose who."

Finally, Natasha nodded, "Let's go."

We sat where we had for three days now. I seriously hoped my everlasting Do Not Disturb marker outside the door wasn't getting suspicious yet.

"Will you laugh at me if I, you know, cry?" Natasha asked.

"Ha!"I said, "No, I promise."

Natasha: This was the story that haunted my every waking hour.

"My brother and I, we both past our exams. He was a hacker, and his test was to hack the CIA in under an hour, then extract the most guarded piece of information. Mine, as I said before, was a little more brutal. We both passed, and Drakeov wanted me, bad."

"So you went with him, leaving your brother behind, to keep him alive?" Clint asked.

"I wish," I whispered, "No, I convinced Drakeov. I told him that my brother would proove himself worthy. Drakeov took him and me, probably assuming it would make me easier.

"We were a stellar team. I kept an eye on my brother, and often went with him in the field. But Drakeov had other ideas. He offered me the position as his top spy. I told him if I got promoted, my brother would have to remain my team member. So he didn't promote me.

"Once, when we were in the Field, my brother was hacking an encryption, and I was watching the door. Then a man came in shooting. I took him down fast, but not fast enough. Alexi had been shot in the thigh, right in the artery that runs through. I sealed it off, and took him back to Drakeov. It was the only time I actually was scared in the field. I begged Drakeov to fix Alexi, and he said he'd do it, but not for free. I had to become his top spy. So they took me into the room, and Drakeov told me he'd fix me, he'd make me even better than I already was. He said when I came out, Alexi would be fixed. So I sat in that room. They injected me with the most painful injections. To date I can't think of a worse pain. Physically at least. They injected me, put me into surgery doing who knows what to me. They never gave me anything for the pain, saying that could copromise the results. I had to continually tell myself this was for Alexi. Otherwise, I would have died through that pain.

"After three days, they stopped. I couldn't move that whole day, do to how back my body hurt. I would scream at times, just because my body hurt so bad. I blacked out in pain four times, and couldn't sleep for the whole night. Once I did through, I woke up, and felt better, almost perfect. So I went to find Alexi. I found him in the infirmary. He was running a tempature of 106, and his leg was barely stitched up. Drakeov came in behind me. I told him he was supposed to fix him. Drakeov smiled and told me his body had rejected the blood transfusion they had given him. He said the wound was infected. Then he looked at me and admired his work. He said he couldn't have a one legged agent, expecially one that couldn't handle himself. He put a gun to Alexi's head, then pulled the trigger. 'You didn't honestly think we'd fix him did you?' Drakeov had said. But no longer had anything to fight for. My brother was dead. So I did everything Drakeov said, knowing there was no other alternative."

I wiped a tear from my check. Clint looked down into his lap. "So Drakeov got everything he wanted, and he got to kill your brother."

I nodded, "Drakeov thrives on taking away anything that matters to me. Anything that my love for could become a liability. And everytime, I know its my fault."

"It's not your fault," Clint muttered, "His being a sadistic low life isn't your fault. And when its finally time, we'll fix this. We'll make sure he won't do this to anyone else."

"You make it sound easy," I noted.

"It won't be," Clint said, "But I'll be there for you. No matter what."

He moved across the room to sit next to me, wrapping his fingers through mine. I laid my head against his shoulder, letting myself cry for the first time in years. He just sat there with me, telling me everything I needed to hear.