I'll fight for you (Clintasha)✔️

☆☾19☽☆ A stab in one, pain in two

"Oh sweet Natasha, so good with words, I might just listen to you." He crooned.

A small spark of hope materialized, but just so to be trampled upon.

Hayden leaned close to Natasha so that his mouth was next to her ear and whispered sinisterly, "Well, maybe not."

Natasha's breathing hitched and she swallowed in nervousness.

Hayden got up from beside her and sauntered over to a chest of drawers. Tugging on the top one, he reached inside and retrieved a shiny object.

Sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains glinted off the brand new blade as Hayden brandished it, relishing the feeling and weight of it in his hands once again. He admired it like it was a gem, like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Natasha and Clint watched with tense silence, before Hayden broke it.

"How beautifully sharp..." Natasha's heart hammered against her chest.

"What a shame if it doesn't taste some crimson..." Clint cringed at Hayden's poetic moment.

"And evoke some PAIN!" Hayden shouted and snapped his head towards Clint, his eyes wild and maniacal.

In the split of a second, Hayden plunged the knife into Clint's stomach.

An ear-piercing scream left Natasha's throat, accompanied by wild currents of tears while Clint cried out in agony.

"NO!!! YOU MONSTER!!!" Natasha shrieked, her tears streaming down her cheeks and dripping off her chin. Her heart was overwhelmed and drowning in pain when she looked at Clint being tormented.

Hayden roughly pulled out the knife upon Natasha's reaction, earning another anguished cry from Clint.

He dropped the blood-stained knife onto the floor with a high-pitched clatter and headed for Natasha, who shot him daggers and radiated immense rage.

She had to think fast, or else Clint would bleed out. He was already losing consciousness at the moment.

"I'M NOT A MONSTER, DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT!" Hayden snapped and gave Natasha a tight slap.

"No...no...no." Clint mumbled weakly, head swaying back and forth.

"DON'T BLAME ME FOR NOT SHOWING YOU MERCY!" He screeched and roughly pushed Natasha down onto the couch.

Hayden had turned into a deranged man.

His hands went for her neck and immediately secured it in a tight grip, causing Natasha to choke. She tried her best to squirm free from him but he was too strong, his strength powered by his insanity and rage.

Natasha's mind was getting fuzzy, her senses dulled. It took all of her will to try and think clearly.

That was when a memory surfaced.

"The pit of the stomach is known as the solar plexus. A punch to the solar plexus can easily knock the wind out of your attacker, it doesn't matter if he's 250 pounds."

"Woah, for someone so small, you sure can pack a punch!"

A punch to the pit of the stomach, yes, that's what Clint had taught her. But her hands were tied (literally), so how could she deliver a punch to him.

Quick, she was fading out slowly as Hayden added pressure.

Natasha briefly noticed how Hayden was hovering over her, and his position gave her an idea.

So using whatever strength she could draw from her diminishing pool, Natasha drew her tied-up legs as far back into her body as she could and pushed them forward with all her might.

Her feet hit Hayden directly in his solar plexus and he stumbled back gasping.

Natasha took the opportunity to suck in as much air as she could to nurse her painfully constricted airways and calm her hectic breathing.

Hayden recovered and glared at her, and if looks could kill, she'd be dead and buried six feet under now.

But Natasha's focus wasn't on Hayden then, she was looking worriedly over at Clint, who had his chin dropped to his chest, looking rather like a lifeless, deflated balloon. The fabric of his shirt around the wound in his torso had a spreading crimson stain and judging by the size of it and of the puddle forming on the floor, he had lost a substantial amount of blood.

To put it plainly, Clint was dying.

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