𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄━︎━︎ C. Barton ✓︎

❝CHAPTER NINE❞

▌𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 ━︎━︎ 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐌𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐓𝐨 𝐀𝐬𝐤 ▌

━︎━︎━︎━︎𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍, chuckling in amusement when Clint had pushed her seat in for her. She watched him sit down, cocking an eyebrow slightly. "He's a gentleman. Never would have thought that about someone whose first choice of a job is to hunt down the bad guys." She looked up at the waiter, requesting a glass of red wine and water whilst Clint simply just got himself a water. She pulled at her gloves, securing them tightly around her wrists before interlacing her hands and looking at the menu. Neither spoke, and they didn't do so until their drinks had come and they ordered their food.

Theodora grabbed her drink, taking a sip of it before putting it back down again. Feeling his eyes on her, Theodora looked up to find Clint watching her. She cocked an eyebrow at the man, watching him look away when she had caught his eyes. It made butterflies scatter through out her stomach. She looked away when she felt blood rush to her cheeks, smiling in relief at the waiter as he came by and brought them their food. They both thanked him before they dug in. She felt him continuously glance at her, and she knew that he wanted to ask her something. They always did. Finally, she sighed, placing her fork down and wiping her mouth with her napkin before motioning him with a hand.

"Go ahead. Ask what you want to ask. Whether or not I'll answer it is a promise I can't make."

He was surprised, almost ashamed of himself that he had let it known he was desperate for a few answers―︎answers in which Fury refused to give to him simply because he promised Theodora he wouldn't. When had promises ever stopped him? If she wasn't going to spill her secrets, then she had something about her that Fury didn't want to get out. "It's personal."

"It always is."

Clint stared at her for a moment, pursing his lips before nodding his head slightly. "When we were on your porch. . . you took off your glove to touch my hand. May I ask why?"

She knew this was going to come up. But she wasn't sure if she was ready to simply retell her life story all over again. She'd done it once to a man she half trusted, could she do it again? But then again whenever she was with Clint a feeling of safety always seeped into her bones. He seemed trustworthy. Or maybe she was just trusting too easily. She cleared her throat, licking her lips as she messed with her gloved hand. "It's a defense mechanism I have." She paused. "I have the power to see things that have happened in the past. Whenever I touch either a person or an object, I can see everywhere that person or thing has been in the past. It helps me know who to trust. That's why I came with you that day."

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing around her at the other people that were dining, laughing with each other, a couple holding hands as their newly placed wedding rings glinted in the life. Oh to be married. To have a family of her own. It was something Theodora longed for but was too scared to have. If her child inherited the burden that she had, she wouldn't be able to live with herself. No child deserved to see the things that she's seen.

"I saw your entire life flash before my eyes." She pressed her lips together, eyebrows cinched as she allowed the images to fly through her head. "A life that you chose. I saw all of it. The day you were born. Your family. The deaths that you've committed―︎ though I know it was only through the orders of Nick Fury. The way you quickly ranked up in S.H.I.E.L.D. and became one of the best agents despite only being there for two years. I'm here right now because I trust you. I don't know why I trust you. But I do. That's why I'm about to tell you this. I know your entire life, it's only fair you know an important part of mine."

"Theodora, you don't have to―︎"

A sad chuckle escaped her lips as she shook her head. "I need to. I feel more comfortable when people know the truth. Let's me know how they really feel about me. The truth is not a pretty one. It's horrible. Monstrous. Inhumane." She pulled on her glove a little tighter, not allowing herself to look at Clint as she relived the memories. "I was thirteen at the time. My brother, Michael, had been ten. We were sitting at dinner one night, and he asked about why I wore the gloves. I tried to get him to drop. He kept pushing and pushing and I just. . . I got so angry, and upset because I didn't want to share the secret that I had but he wanted to know it so desperately. So, I showed him.

"I stood up, ripped the glove off and grabbed onto his arm and showed him the things that I had seen. The horrible, horrible things. He started screaming, terrified by what I'd show him. I traumatized my brother into insanity, and to this day he is placed inside a mental asylum―︎or whatever they call it now. I don't know if he's still alive―︎I'm guessing he is. I don't know where any of my family members are. They stopped talking to me after that, and I've been hiding ever since then."

Clint could see the tears in her eyes, and his heart broke for her. He knew she didn't want his pity, and he wouldn't give it to her. All he could say was, "You were just a kid. You had a power you didn't understand. They can't blame you for that."

Theodora looked up at him, a tight smile on her lips. "But they do." She quickly wiped away the tear that had fallen. She was trying so hard not to make a scene, but telling Clint that part of her, it felt like part of her had been released. It felt like part of her was broken. "I just want to be okay. I just want to be normal. Is that too much to ask?"

"In this world? Yes."

It was a simple response, and yet some how it made her feel better and worse at the same time. She took a deep intake of breath as she looked at him. "I was right to trust you. Now that you know that, can you trust me?"

Clint looked at her for a few moments before a confident smile pulled slightly at his lips and her firmly nodded his head before answering, "With my life."