A Different Call

The End

Natasha P.O.V.

I woke by getting blinded by a beam of light that had fought its way through the window grime. Once I got to my senses, I realized that that light meant the sun had to be rising, which meant I had been stationary for too long. I was not sure how close my pursuer was to me, but I knew that there was not enough distance to make staying in one spot for over eight hours safe. I started to hurry, throwing on my shoes and gathering the bag that I had what little supplies I possessed and fled to the street.

The street was quiet, which made it easier to search for him, but it also allowed me to be spotted as well. I looked around and saw him, he was perched on the roof next to my hotel. He always seemed to be at the highest possible point, which made it harder for me to blend in with what little crowd there was, although perhaps if I slip into one of the side alleys I could give him the slip. I threw the hood of my jacket up and tried to blend in with foot traffic until I got to an alley that should protect me from his sights. I began to run down random allies and back streets, hoping to shake him, though something inside me was telling me that something was off. It had been thirty minutes before I realized that, while in my haste this morning, I had forgotten my gun at the hotel. I couldn't believe that I made that big of a mistake, and to make matters worse, the alley that I had been running down for the last few minutes turned out to be a dead end.

There were large brick warehouses on every side of me, except where I had just come from. I immediately started to think of ways to get out. The bricks weren't chipped away enough for me to try and climb up the buildings and there was no way that I could stand my ground and fight, at least not in the condition I was. I realized the only way to go was the one I had just been down, and hope that I could find another alley to escape into. I turned around, hoping that I would have time to make a quick break for it when I saw a figure standing in my path.

I froze, my mind trying to run through every situation that could possibly result in my escaping alive. He began to walk towards me, a rather comfortable pace and stride as though he did not know what I was capable of. Keyword was, my brain supplied. I started to retreat, not taking my eyes off him, trying to buy myself just a little more time. It seemed like only a couple of steps before I felt my back and hands hit the cold stone wall. My brain had supplied no answers for me to escape this situation.

Escape is a rather funny word to me, it seems to define my whole life: I managed to escape the fire that claimed half my family, I managed to escape death delivered by my fellow Black Widow candidates, I managed to escape the Red Room, though I was sure that wouldn't last long, they will want me back  -- probably not alive. However, so far, I have not been able to escape him. Maybe I should just let him finish our journey, I was going to die anyway, and would rather this stranger have the bragging rights of bringing me down rather than the Red Room.

He raised his bow and notched an arrow. I couldn't tell which was odder the look of surprise or the choice of weapon, I mean what are we in the stone age. I kept my eyes open the whole time not wanting to show any weakness, even when facing my certain death. I wonder if it hurts and if there really is a hell like they say? I knew that's where I would go if there was such a place, or maybe I already been there. After what seemed like hours, he finally let loose the arrow, straight towards me. I hear a thunk yet feel only a slight graze against my cheek. I took a shaky breath and glanced to my right and saw the arrow stuck in the wall, centimeters from my head. I slid down the wall to the ground, a mix of post-adrenaline exhaustion and threat of what will come next causing me to no longer be able to hold myself up any longer.

"Get up," he said, practically barking it at me, taking a quick glance over his shoulder.

That surprised me, based on his body language I would not peg him as a sadist "Why, do you want the feeling of killing me while I am standing so your ego feels better?" I asked with a sting in my voice. For some reason Ivan's voice came to my mind, Even in the face of death, you show the fire that I know is inside you, too bad you have burned too hot and now need to be extinguished.

"No, I'm trying to save your life. If you have a brain in that head of yours, you'll come with me," he said, extending his hand to me.

You're going to die anyway, and this guy doesn't seem like Red Room material so why the hell not.

I use his hand and gesture for him to lead the way, I trusted him enough to not kill me in this particular moment. But I sure was not going to let him get behind me, at least not while I'm unarmed.

A.N. To those that have read the story already, you will know that I had had almost every chapter told by both Clint and Natasha, but I have decided during this editing process that I would focus on mainly Natasha's point of view, though I will include Clint's if it is needed for the story or Natasha I unable to give her point of view.