The Shadow // Natasha Romanoff x OC

Chapter 15 - The Sh*tty Soldier or Whatever

Azara's pov

"Are you sure you're ok?" Clint asks worriedly for the tenth time in ten minutes.

"If I don't do it now, I don't think I ever will. I also don't want to put you in a position that would mean you'd have to lie to them. You have their trust and I've been an annoyance enough already," I explain to the older man who's sifting busily through his weapons and checking over his suit.

"That didn't answer my question, Azara. And - for the 50th time - you're not a burden here nor do you have to worry about me. The kids already love you as well," he finishes up and looks at me, assessing my body language. I stiffen slightly and try to appear fuller and less weighed down by everything that had happened over the last six months.

"You're not going to fight, remember that. You're not an Avenger just yet and this whole war is between Steve, Bucky and Tony. The rest of us have just been guilt tripped into helping," I'm not entirely convinced that it's just the three men he listed but I don't question it.

"Plus, you saying that you're not uh... 'you-know-who'... is going to be a difficult enough task without you going into battle against half of the Avengers," we've gone over the plan twenty times in the past few hour but, despite him telling me it's just to make sure we're both fully on the same page, I think, understandably, he's nervous to be fighting against his friends. And me: the wild card, the go or no go.

"So I just say, what? 'I'm a good guy now! Forget that I murdered dozens of innocent civilians, SHIELD agents, the king of Wakanda and definitely a lot more poeple than I can remember in cold blood! I'm good now everyone so peace out and namaste'," I do a sarcastic peace sign which just makes the archer roll his eyes.

"But seriously, I can't think of a single scenario where this goes well, Clint. Natasha probably hates me and I don't blame her, I've betrayed Tony so many times. Watching where my loyalties lie is like watching a tennis match and the Prince of Wakanda blames me for the murder of his father, which he is completely correct to do so," I try hard to conceal the ten tonnes of doubt I have but I'm breaking.

"Well, you never know until you try," Clint says with a sarcastically cheery smile and walks out towards the quinjet.

"I'm a mass murder, not a kid being told to try vegetables," I grumble under my breath.

~~~~~~

"And we have touch down," Clint announces in a terrible impression of a space flight operating room person (you know what I mean like: 'Houston, we have a problem').

Fastening my armour and leaving my sword in the sheath hanging on my hip, I head towards the drop deck.

"Azara Alarie, man you're looking good. If you ever see a woman this beautiful walking down the street she's going to get arrested, cos she's killing all the ladies and gentlemen. Pow pow! Pow pow pow!," Clint points finger guns at me teasingly as he approaches from the cockpit.

"Arrested? More like shot on sight," I reply quickly.

"Oh shut up, we need to go and, if you're going to ruin all the fun, I'm not sharing my packet of chips on the way home. And we are getting home, both of us," he reassures, the humour laced in his tone is full of seriousness.

"Yeah, yeah you've said, Legolas," I roll my eyes as I faze us through a shadow to where Steve wanted to meet Clint.

His slightly queasy look after the shift make me smile, "I'm mildly insulted by the fact you think I look worse than Orlando Bloom, which is a lie-"