➶ ｡˚ ° ➶ ｡˚➶ ｡˚ ➶ ｡˚ ➶ ｡˚
(𝐑𝐔𝐍)
CHAPTER NINETEEN----▹ 

"Eleanor Bishop stabbed you?"

Iskra Romanoff-Hill was losing a lot of blood, too much blood. She was in a lot of pain, more than she probably had been before, she was slipping in and out of consciousness, it was almost peaceful the way the night sky looked as snowflakes fell, landing on her eyelashes.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she could see Clint above her, and she saw his mouth moving, but she couldn't really tell what he was saying. "I...I want my Mom." Iskra managed to whisper her throat raw, Clint tried to offer her a comforting smile but he couldn't quite form one, "Hey...hey stay awake." his voice sounded far away as if Iskra's head was underwater. 

In a way, she felt like she was drowning, without even being anywhere near the water, choking on your own blood will do that to you, she slipped out of consciousness again.

The next time she woke up, she wasn't outside anymore, there was no snow floating down to her face, and she didn't feel like she was underwater, she was all too aware of her pain. It was sharp yet searing, she couldn't do anything to stop it, and based on Clint's facial expressions she wasn't getting out of this anytime soon.

Clint didn't know what to do, she was losing too much blood, he couldn't get it to stop bleeding and he sure as hell couldn't take her to a hospital. So, he attempted to stitch the wound, the stitches probably wouldn't hold for very long, but they would hold long enough for him to make a call. 

He found Iskra's phone and slid to open it, finding the password screen staring back at him, he tried the first thing he thought of. 120384

Clint could almost laugh if it wasn't such a bad time, raised by a Russian Assasin, and still used someone's birthday as a password. Natasha's birthday. He clicked on the contacts and his hand hovered over the call button for a moment, before pressing it.

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The elevator opened with a chime, Kate limped forward, her boots clunking against the marble floor,  "Kate?" Eleanor asked, approaching the sound of footsteps. Kate looked up slowly, "Oh My God..." Eleanor gasped seeing her daughter's face. "Are you ok?" she asked concern dripping from her voice, "And why are you wearing your archery suit." 

"I'm ok."  Kate sighed, emotion filling her tone, "Does this have anything to do with Clint Barton?" Eleanor asked stepping closer to her daughter. Kate was completely unaware of the sword missing from one of the racks, or the fact that Iskra Romanoff-Hill was dying because of it.

"Mom, no." Kate immediately shut her down, "Clint protected me. And you'll be glad to know, he then told me to come home and stay away from him." Kate's voice sounded so broken, she was so hurt. 

Eleanor tilted her daughter's head up at her, "Look at me," she said softly, "You're the only thing that matters to me. Are you sure you're ok?" she asked, "Yes," Kate replied crying, and Eleanor pulled her in for a hug, "Oh come here. My baby girl." Eleanor whispered hugging her daughter, and Kate just cried into her mother's embrace not knowing that this really was the last time she would ever think of her mother in such a light.

Eleanor helped Kate, clean up the cuts on her face, not that she was doing that completely correctly, the wound wasn't being cinched, like Iskra had shown her, but she let her mom do it anyways.

"Does Clint think you're a superhero? And that girl?" Eleanor asked, "Her name is Iskra...ouch" Kate corrected, wincing as her mother applied Neosporin to the cut. "And no." Kate whispered, "I don't either." she added. 

"I know it's scary now, Kate." she said, "But this doesn't have to change who you are. It just means that what you do might look a little different than what you dreamed as a child." Kate glanced down at the bed, this is not how she wanted her night to go. "And preferably a little less reckless." she added, "I never wanted to be reckless. I just wanted to help." Kate whispered. "I know hon. Recklessness is the  unfortunate side effect." 

meanwhile...

The phone rang for a few beats before a groggy sounding Maria answered from the other end of the phone, "Iskra? It's like one am, is everything ok?" her speech was kind of rushed even though she was tired. "Hi, Maria." Clint greeted, "Clint? What the hell happened?" Maria asked suddenly sounding very awake. "I'm gonna need your help," he glanced over to Iskra, "Iskra needs your help," he stated.

"I need you to tell me what happened please," Maria pleaded, "she got stabbed, I'm not sure what happened to her, but she said something about her past catching up to her, which I know for a fact isn't a good sign."

Maria knew she wouldn't get there in time, but she still started the trip to New York, and Clint noticed that one of the stitches seemed to have torn, if this continued he would have to cauterize the wound.

Iskra soon slipped back into consciousness, "Iz? Iskra? Can you hear me?" Clint questioned leaning down by Isrka's side. "Ouch..." she murmured, "You're not quite out of the woods yet, but it stopped bleeding for now," Clint said, giving Iskra a sip of water.  "Everything hurts." she complained, speaking in Russian, "I know Iskra," he spoke trying to comfort his niece. "Can you believe Kate's mom tried to kill me, I just knew she was a shady bitch." Iskra said, Clint chuckled a little, this is exactly the kind of personality Iskra had always had, making jokes even on your almost death bed, kind of girl. 

Iskra suddenly gasped, "You sent Kate home, and seeing that we are in the safehouse, that means Kate has to be with the crazy bitch!" The Russian speech came out of Iskra's mouth rapidly. "Kate will be fine Iz, you need to rest before you tear your stitches, "Now that you say that, I am really tired," she murmured falling back asleep fairly quickly.

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Kate had left her mother's penthouse, deciding she wanted to go see how much of her apartment was salvageable. She opened the door, entering the apartment, already noticing all of the crispy different items as Clint had called it. "Oh, My God," she muttered, glancing around the room. 

She looked around the room, something definitely didn't feel right, her eyes traveled between the light, eventually landing on an empty window. "Shit," she muttered. "Kate Bishop." the blonde with the thick Russian accent spoke, and Kate launched a bottle of hot sauce at her head, turning around quickly, the Russian Assasin caught it.

"Hi!"