Heal Me, Or Break Me

Chapter Two

      I looked all around the inside of the building, following close behind Clint. "Y-you didn't tell me that you're staying here in Stark Towers?" I asked, mesmerized by the fancy building. I'd never been this close to the building, let alone ever walked inside of it. "Yep." He patted my shoulder and urged me to walk faster.

      He closed the doors to the elevators, and I couldn't help but glance back at him. He was so formal and so nice, but what had he been doing here at Stark Towers? Had he been a friend of the Ironman, or had he worked for him? "You see, I'm friends with mister Stark, and he is allowing me and a few others to stay here at the towers. We're all just one big family. However," he cleared his throat, "there were a few of us who couldn't stay here. They moved elsewhere, though they sometimes visit." He frowned slightly, as if it had hurt him to admit to it. This person or so had probably been close to him. The doors opened again and I almost jumped as he urged me out and down the hall. Why had he been so quick to hide me away? Had he not been allowed any visitors?

      "Things can be kind of wierd around here, so I don't blame you if you ever want to leave. I just figured you might want a place to stay." He spoke as he opened the door to what looked like his living quarters. It was nice and spacious, and had a small living room and  an even smaller kitchen off to the side. "This is nice." I spoke over my shoulder, finding myself closely examining the place. Then out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something red. Immediately I looked over, walking closer to get a better look at the picture. There had been one of him and some other woman. She had curly red hair and pale skin, and not to mention her piercing blue eyes.

       The red headed lady wore a black tank top and black pants, as well as Clint. The both of them held hands and smiled. They looked happy together. Then there was another picture next to it, of just the lady. In this picture, she was wearing a black suit that had been low cut. The symbol on her belt looked familiar, too. In the picture, she'd been sitting next to some man that had been wearing a white shirt and kahki  pants. He had blonde hair, and the both of them seemed to be talking, and laughing a little. Too bad I could only see half of the blonde haired man. "Oh! Uh, that's a friend of mine," He was quick to hang up his jacket and rush over beside me, "She uh," he took a few steps back. "She and I used to work together, but she decided to go back to Russia. That's where she said her heart was, and wanted to go back to have some sort of alone time. I-I'm not sure why, but." He shrugged his shoulders and looked at the picture on the counter.

       "So she went back to Russia? But isn't Russia like, America's enemy country or something? I've heard many stories about spies and killing each other." I questioned. Not very many people were from Russia here, and as far as I know, it was because we were enemy countries. "Well, yeah, but, she... she's not like all of the others, she is well... we were, uh..." I looked back over at him, watching as he stumbled over his own words, searching for the right ones to use. He frowned again, and I could tell in his eyes that he was unhappy. They must've been previous lovers. But why would he say they worked together? Normally, couples loved one another enough to stay away from each other's work place. Otherwise it would throw them off, and they wouldn't be the best at their job any longer. "Who are you?" I blurted the words I'd been meaning to ask since the first moment we'd begun speaking. Since the moment he saved my life from that man.

      "Didn't I tell you earlier today? My name's Clint Barton." He sighed, and I felt my stomach twist. "Of course you're Clint Barton, I know that already. But is that who you truly are? Are you someone else? What is your occupation? Are you working for the Russian government?" I questioned. If I was going to stay here, I needed to know who he was. Dear God, please don't let him be some sort of mass murder, conspirist type of person.

      "Hey, Barton!" I jumped at the sound of another man's voice, calming as he walked through the door and I realized it had only been Mister Stark. "I kind of need your help eslewhere" He patted his shoulder and then looked at his watch and I felt as if I was going to fall over out of terror. He'd scared the life out of me just a minute ago. "I've got a total of four teenagers trying to kill each other, and Emi's on the phone panicking because she just found out Annabelle was at Steve's."

       Mister Stark paused a moment, realizing that I was here. There was a moment of awkward silence throughout the room and now it felt like I was going to fall over out of pure embarassment. I could feel my face turn bright red too. "E-excuse me a moment, young lady, but I need to borrow Clint a moment." He smiled and dragged Clint out behind him, shutting the door as the both of them left. Could this day of mine get any worse?