The Archer & The Spy (Clintasha fan fiction)

Lock up

I dragged the men's bodies one at a time. I've dragged dead bodies before, too many times. I always did that when Russia was brought up. My mind and body would freeze. When they trained children as spies, they were rough. They only used kids because they were younger and more efficient. If I got something wrong or missed the target, I was beaten. They showed no mercy on kids. Over half of the spies in training died within their first couple months. I was among the very few and lucky ones to live. "Nat?" Clint called from behind me. My back hurt from dragging two hundred pounds of dead weight.

"Yeah?" I answered, letting the body fall. He let the body he was carrying, drop and he jogged over to me.

"Don't be mad." He put a hand on my shoulder. With anyone else, I would have had them on the ground by now but Clint was different.

"I'm not mad Clint." I shook my head with a faint smile.

"Yeah you are. I can tell." His blue eyes shimmered. "Just come with me." He grinned. I took off my gloves and put them in my bag that was over my shoulder. He grabbed my hand and we walked through the woods. He didn't look like he knew where we were going.

"Clint? Do you have any clue as to where we are?" I asked with a laugh. He shook his head.

"Not a bit." He laughed. I rolled my eyes. We broke into a clearing that had a bunch of huge rocks and a creek flowing through it. I sat on one of the rocks. Clint sat in front of me. "Why do you get like that? You lock up and just stare like a statue. Why?" He was kind with his words.

"We need to keep moving." I ignored his question and got up to start walking but he pulled me back. We were standing chest to chest. "Not here." I whispered and looked into his blue eyes. He nodded. I got up and we walked out through the woods, making our way back to the border between the forest and the open grasslands. The sun was still out even though it was still chilly. I was wearing shorts and a damn tank top. "I'm changing so my ass doesn't freeze." I told Clint. I sat my bag down and riffled through it. I found a pair of sweatpants and put them on over my shorts. I threw the bag back over my shoulder and winced. The bag had rubbed a raw spot on my shoulder. I dropped the bag and moved the strap to my tank top. There was a red belt the size of the strap on my bag. The skin was red from being rubbed raw. Clint walked over to me and looked at it.

"Ouch. Want me to carry it?" He asked.

"No. I got it." I picked it back up and slowly put it on my shoulder. He rolled his eyes and took the bag. His biceps flexed as he did so. "Clint really. I can carry it."

"I'm good." He shook his head. I sighed and let him have his way. We walked for about two hours when I heard gunshots.