A little bit of everything Multi Fandom Imagines Book Three

Rasputin - Part 9 - Clint Barton x Reader

"What is it? Is everything alright?" (Y/n) asked with a concerned tone, as Clint led her into his bedroom and closed the door. The archer sitting her on the corner of the bed before he began to pace the room. (Y/n) watching on as he walked back and forth. Not quite sure what had gotten into the older man.

Clint knew that he should answer. That he should assure her that everything was fine. But other things were going on in his head. A question that had already waited far too long to be answered, fighting to be asked, despite the fact that he was sure that this wasn't really the right time. That (Y/n) hadn't been back with them long enough to properly settle back into things, never mind give him the answer that he hoped she would. Yet if he waited any longer, he was sure that Wilson would get there before him. That the Falcon would ask her the same question that he wanted to. Both men well aware of the feelings that the other secretly harboured for (Y/n). Feelings that had been there long before she was taken.

"What's this?" (Y/n) enquired cheerily. The female Avenger hoping to cut through the awkward silence that had fallen over the scene. Her hand reaching for the book that sat on the bedside table.

"Rasputin, huh? Trying to get a hand on this new assassin?" (Y/n) asked, as she began to flick through the book. Clint nodding slowly before he joined her on the bed. The archer hoping that his hesitation hadn't taken the opportunity away from him.

"You know, there are all manner of myths surrounding this guy. Fewer characters in Russian history have been as reviled and revered as this so called "renegade monk"." (Y/n) chuckled, as she looked through some of the pictures of the monk and the Romanov family.

"Everything from the stories that he had mystical powers, to him being the Tsarina's lover. Most of his life was exaggerated though. Propagandised by his enemies..........."

"You seem to know a lot about this guy?" Clint remarked, as (Y/n) handed him the book.

"No more than any other. I do, do things other than play hero you know. I have always had a thing for history. An interest in the more unusual characters that have lived in this world. I suppose that Rasputin was just one of them. I mean, when you read things about him being stabbed by a beggar woman in the stomach and surviving despite the fact that he lost a lot of blood. About the plot that eventually did take his life. Being invited for dinner and given food that was laced with poison, yet seeming to show no ill effects after its ingestion. About the hail of bullets that he is said to have survived. The feared priest only dying once he had been thrown by the plotters into an icy river and drowned, you tend to remember." (Y/n) explained with a smile. Clint nodding in agreement, as he realised that she did have a point.

"Now..........are you going to tell me what's wrong, Clint?" (Y/n) continued, as she slipped her hand into his. The archer gripping it tight, as he tried to find the right words.

"Bruce told me that you and Sam still blame yourselves for what happened that night. That you two have been fighting since you found me. There is no need to. I don't blame either of you. Hydra knew that we were going to be there. It didn't matter how much planning had gone into that mission, they were going to take one of us; and I was just glad it was me. I couldn't have lived with knowing that someone might be hurting you. Either of you. It nearly destroyed me when they tried to convince me that you had both been killed. That neither of you had got away." (Y/n) told a still silent archer, as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Its not that, (Y/n). Well, in part it is. But I.........its..........." Clint tried to explain. The archer finally deciding that as his words were failing him, he would have to take action instead. Clint moving so that he could look at her. Placing a hand on each side of her face, before his lips met hers. The archer smiling into the kiss as he felt (Y/n)'s hands move up into his hair.

"RASPUTIN!" A voice in her mind suddenly roared. Images appearing behind her closed eyelids of white coated figures that stared down at her. Of machines that she had been strapped to. Of hypodermic needles being pushed into her flesh and the pain that she had felt. Her eyes flying back open as she fell from Clint's arms to the floor. The returned Avenger glaring up at the man that was now standing over her. The archer seeming to be speaking, yet she could hear nothing but a strangely familiar, cold voice.

"What is your objective.............?"

"My objective is to kill the target." (Y/n)'s eyes widening, as she heard the disembodied response that was most definitely in her voice.

"Who is your target...............?"

"Any given to me by you. Or by Hydra."

"And how do you kill the target..............?"

"By any means possible............."

"Now.........tell me what you fear..............?"

"I fear nothing..............."

"Good. And whom do you care for.............?"

"I care for no one............." This final silent response seeming to click something inside (Y/n)'s mind. Clint watching as she sprang to her feet. The look in her eyes like none he had ever seen before. The archer sure that if looks really could kill, at this very moment he would most certainly be dead.

"I care for no one............." (Y/n) said out loud. Her voice now dark and menacing, as she reached out and grabbed the old glass container that Clint had always kept on the mantle over the fireplace. The returned Avenger smashing it until she was left with nothing but a dagger like shard in her hand, that was cutting deep into her flesh as she gripped it tightly. Drops of crimson dripping onto the hard wood floor.

"By any means possible..........." (Y/n) hissed, as she raced for the archer. Clint finding himself incapable of moving from the spot where he stood, as she barreled towards him.