Chapter 20

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*Unfortunately, this story is drawing to a close... The next few chapters will be the last ones. :O Thank you all so much for reading and supporting this book. It means the world to me! I never dreamed that I would ever get this far, seeing as though I never finish anything. I hope you enjoy these final chapters. Thank you. You are all amazing. (Please don't be afraid to point out spelling stuff. I just wanted to get this chapter out* 

 

Calypso’s P.O.V. 

I’d only known this team for a little more than a week, but I feel like it’s been years. I haven’t trusted anyone in so long, yet somehow these people have been able to weasel their way into my heart. 

Maybe it’s because I was so deprived of human contact, or the fact that I was desperate for a family since I’d lost mine. Maybe it was simply the best error in judgement I’ve ever made. 

I drug in a breath, eyes straying to the clock once more. Eleven fifty-eight.

My heart thrummed, blood rushing in my ears as the seconds flew by, shoving me closer and closer to my ultimate fate. I took another look around the room, memorizing the steel walls and worn wardrobe in the corner. I absently tugged on the black shirt I wore and the raggedy cargo pants. I tugged the beanie down over my ears and over the back of my ponytail, the rest of my hair spilling in waves down my back.  

I had to do this. It would hurt them, I knew that much. But it needed to be done.

For them, for me, for him

Clint Barton’s a.k.a Hawkeye’s P.O.V

“We’ve got your back,” I assured her, taking up a defensive stance in front of Calypso. She only nodded, wringing her hands in her lap as she stared ahead with a slight scowl. We currently resided in a windowless room that was a bit larger than a standard sleeping quarters.

“We need you out here, Clint,” Natasha said through the earpiece, and I knew it was time. The clock had struck twelve not ten minutes ago and we were waiting for the ball to drop, for something to happen. 

“Don’t leave the room. I’m going to trade off with Thor,” I said, and she looked up at me, eyes brimming with tears. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. She looked so fragile as she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the tears back. I couldn’t think of an appropriate response, so I decided to take my leave instead. 

“Tell Nat that I’m sorry,” she called after me, before I was on my own. I didn’t dare risk staying and asking for what, for fear of the impending attack. 

“Thor’s on his way,” Natasha stated, her voice dissolving into a brief fit of static. I heard a set of footsteps up ahead, just around another corner. I lowered my bow when I caught a glimpse of blonde hair but raised it just as fast when my mind comprehended that it wasn’t Thor standing at the end of the hallway. 

A woman stared me down, a pistol clutched tightly in one hand, a vial of some sort in the other. She had a bitter set to her mouth, her eyes glinting with disgust as she eyed me. She was thin, with gaunt cheekbones and lanky arms. 

Her thin lips, painted a ruby red, twisted up into a sneer as she raised the gun, no doubt aiming for my head. On instinct, I released an arrow, her eyes going wide as it sailed towards her. She swiftly dodged it, rolling to the side, her black ensemble like a stain against the white tile. I couldn’t help but notice how...unbalanced she seemed. 

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