When I'm awake and alive.
TITLE: Something Like Falling (lick my wounds)
FANDOM: Avengers 919
CHARACTERS: Nikolai 'Atrax' Romanoff, Colleen 'Hawkeye' Barton
RATING: Low Teen [References to violence and death.]
SUMMARY: Assassins have their own versions of hangovers and morning afters.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Because I cannot leave well enough alone, and beating up on Nikolai and Colleen is far too much fun.
MISSION REPORT
Security Level: Above Top Secret -- documentation to be edited, and destroyed immediately upon review.
Location: Priština, Kosovo
Reporting Agent: Colleen 'Hawkeye' Barton
Assignment: Infiltration of ---------, neutralization of ----------. Collateral damage authorized.
Status: Complete
Further Details: Higher than anticipated casualties. Adjustment to mission plan involved ------------------ and --------------- . Minimal injury to involved agents. -------------------------- meeting --------------------,-------------------------.
Perched on the windowsill of the tenth floor apartment building she and Nikolai were holed up in for this mission, Colleen waited to see the sun rise above the buildings around her. Sleep had come, but she hadn't been able to hold on to it. Her bow and quiver were laid out on the apartment floor right by the window, partially out of practicality (she would be able to roll back, arm herself, and fire off an arrow in three seconds if the need arose) and partially out of a need for reassurance. Some kids had security blankies or stuffed animals that protected them. Colleen had her bow. Thing was, while kids moved on from their blankets or toys, Colleen had never let go of her bow.
She played at the dressing on her arm. A bullet had grazed it, a little more closely than she'd ever experienced before, and the gauze bandage wrapped around her arm had already been soaked through with blood. She'd have to change it, but that was an absent knowledge.
Feeling eyes on her back, she swung her legs around so she was sitting with her body facing in to the room. More specifically, facing the king sized bed that Nikolai was occupying. He sat up, giving the slightest of hisses before looking at her. Seeing as he was shirtless, the oversized bandage on his side was easily spotted. His was holding up better than hers, but that's because she'd sewn the knife wound there shut herself before putting the bandage over it, and she was damn good with sutures if she did say so herself.
"Morning," she said.
"Morning," he answered, rolling his neck. "You didn't sleep at all last night, did you?"
She shrugged. "I got a couple hours." The lie came easily. She'd only gotten one, if that. The dishonesty was pointless with Niko, but she employed it just the same. He just quirked an eyebrow as he observed her. Mercifully, he said nothing, which was for the best. She really didn't feel like explaining how the car bombing their mission had ended up involving -- a detail which would never be recorded, even in the mission report, and would remain between herself, Niko, and Phillipa, and then disappear entirely -- had done an admirable job of reminding her of her parents and sister...or loss and therefore lack thereof.
It wasn't as if Nikolai had slept particularly well either. He'd tossed and turned, muttering in Russian. Collie could speak Iraqi Arabic fluently, but was lost when it came to anything else outside of English. She could guess he wasn't saying anything particularly pleasant. Nightmares were a safe bet, but in the same way he didn't push her, she wouldn't push him. It was a simple understanding on both their parts: if nothing was said, nothing was forced.
Nikolai's attention turned to his left ankle. Pulling it out from under the sheets, he unwrapped the tensor bandage he'd wrapped it in last night. Colleen noted that the swelling had gone down since then.
The mornings after this kind of heavy mission were always like this. They were the quiet aftershock that would pass eventually, but for now the withdrawal left them subdued, tending to physical injuries and doing an admirable job of ignoring the psychological ones.
She walked into the bathroom, opening the med kit sitting on the counter there. Ripping off her dirtied bandage, she poked briefly at the wound on her arm before cleaning and re-dressing it. The thin gash across her cheek and the bruise on her shoulder didn't really require attention. She raked a hand through her hair and went back into the bedroom area of the place to take a seat on the bed.
Closing her eyes, she rubbed at her forehead.
"Here," Niko said, pressing a shirt in to her hands. A longsleeved, plaid button up, he'd probably grabbed it out of the duffel bag that sat next to the bed. He gestured to her arm. "Hide the damage."
She pulled it on over her tank top, chortling to herself as she buttoned the shirt up. "Won't cover my face."
He reached out and touched gently at the cut there, head cocking to the side. "That will heal cleanly. Just give it a little time."
"Lemme see those stitches," she said. Lifting his arm to give her easy access to the bandage, she peeled it back carefully to see how her work was holding up. "Looks okay," was her assessment. "You probably want to use some of the Betadine on it though."
"Keep it clean and uninfected, huh?"
"Pretty much."
She smoothed the bandage back up and over the wound. It would keep for now.
In a few hours, they would meet an extraction team in the lobby of Hotel Pejton, and a sweeper team would come and clear the apartment out (they would have no idea what they were cleaning up or what for, and had been trained not to ask). Once that was done, and once the two of them had debriefed and had gone back to the SHIELD barracks, things would be easier. For now though, they did not exist and what they had done had not happened. They were not hurt. There was no trail of dead. There was nothing. Another day in Priština was beginning, that was all. Nothing new.
Nothing.
"I'm going to go grab a coffee," Colleen said, starting for the door. "The cafés here are supposed to be really good. Back in a few."
Niko just nodded, grabbing a knife from the bedside table and tossing it her way. She caught it easily before tucking it into her belt, and then grabbed a pistol off the kitchen table before leaving. It wasn't her bow, but it still felt better than an empty hand.
-Fin-
FANDOM: Avengers 919
CHARACTERS: Nikolai 'Atrax' Romanoff, Colleen 'Hawkeye' Barton
RATING: Low Teen [References to violence and death.]
SUMMARY: Assassins have their own versions of hangovers and morning afters.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Because I cannot leave well enough alone, and beating up on Nikolai and Colleen is far too much fun.
MISSION REPORT
Security Level: Above Top Secret -- documentation to be edited, and destroyed immediately upon review.
Location: Priština, Kosovo
Reporting Agent: Colleen 'Hawkeye' Barton
Assignment: Infiltration of ---------, neutralization of ----------. Collateral damage authorized.
Status: Complete
Further Details: Higher than anticipated casualties. Adjustment to mission plan involved ------------------ and --------------- . Minimal injury to involved agents. -------------------------- meeting --------------------,-------------------------.
Perched on the windowsill of the tenth floor apartment building she and Nikolai were holed up in for this mission, Colleen waited to see the sun rise above the buildings around her. Sleep had come, but she hadn't been able to hold on to it. Her bow and quiver were laid out on the apartment floor right by the window, partially out of practicality (she would be able to roll back, arm herself, and fire off an arrow in three seconds if the need arose) and partially out of a need for reassurance. Some kids had security blankies or stuffed animals that protected them. Colleen had her bow. Thing was, while kids moved on from their blankets or toys, Colleen had never let go of her bow.
She played at the dressing on her arm. A bullet had grazed it, a little more closely than she'd ever experienced before, and the gauze bandage wrapped around her arm had already been soaked through with blood. She'd have to change it, but that was an absent knowledge.
Feeling eyes on her back, she swung her legs around so she was sitting with her body facing in to the room. More specifically, facing the king sized bed that Nikolai was occupying. He sat up, giving the slightest of hisses before looking at her. Seeing as he was shirtless, the oversized bandage on his side was easily spotted. His was holding up better than hers, but that's because she'd sewn the knife wound there shut herself before putting the bandage over it, and she was damn good with sutures if she did say so herself.
"Morning," she said.
"Morning," he answered, rolling his neck. "You didn't sleep at all last night, did you?"
She shrugged. "I got a couple hours." The lie came easily. She'd only gotten one, if that. The dishonesty was pointless with Niko, but she employed it just the same. He just quirked an eyebrow as he observed her. Mercifully, he said nothing, which was for the best. She really didn't feel like explaining how the car bombing their mission had ended up involving -- a detail which would never be recorded, even in the mission report, and would remain between herself, Niko, and Phillipa, and then disappear entirely -- had done an admirable job of reminding her of her parents and sister...or loss and therefore lack thereof.
It wasn't as if Nikolai had slept particularly well either. He'd tossed and turned, muttering in Russian. Collie could speak Iraqi Arabic fluently, but was lost when it came to anything else outside of English. She could guess he wasn't saying anything particularly pleasant. Nightmares were a safe bet, but in the same way he didn't push her, she wouldn't push him. It was a simple understanding on both their parts: if nothing was said, nothing was forced.
Nikolai's attention turned to his left ankle. Pulling it out from under the sheets, he unwrapped the tensor bandage he'd wrapped it in last night. Colleen noted that the swelling had gone down since then.
The mornings after this kind of heavy mission were always like this. They were the quiet aftershock that would pass eventually, but for now the withdrawal left them subdued, tending to physical injuries and doing an admirable job of ignoring the psychological ones.
She walked into the bathroom, opening the med kit sitting on the counter there. Ripping off her dirtied bandage, she poked briefly at the wound on her arm before cleaning and re-dressing it. The thin gash across her cheek and the bruise on her shoulder didn't really require attention. She raked a hand through her hair and went back into the bedroom area of the place to take a seat on the bed.
Closing her eyes, she rubbed at her forehead.
"Here," Niko said, pressing a shirt in to her hands. A longsleeved, plaid button up, he'd probably grabbed it out of the duffel bag that sat next to the bed. He gestured to her arm. "Hide the damage."
She pulled it on over her tank top, chortling to herself as she buttoned the shirt up. "Won't cover my face."
He reached out and touched gently at the cut there, head cocking to the side. "That will heal cleanly. Just give it a little time."
"Lemme see those stitches," she said. Lifting his arm to give her easy access to the bandage, she peeled it back carefully to see how her work was holding up. "Looks okay," was her assessment. "You probably want to use some of the Betadine on it though."
"Keep it clean and uninfected, huh?"
"Pretty much."
She smoothed the bandage back up and over the wound. It would keep for now.
In a few hours, they would meet an extraction team in the lobby of Hotel Pejton, and a sweeper team would come and clear the apartment out (they would have no idea what they were cleaning up or what for, and had been trained not to ask). Once that was done, and once the two of them had debriefed and had gone back to the SHIELD barracks, things would be easier. For now though, they did not exist and what they had done had not happened. They were not hurt. There was no trail of dead. There was nothing. Another day in Priština was beginning, that was all. Nothing new.
Nothing.
"I'm going to go grab a coffee," Colleen said, starting for the door. "The cafés here are supposed to be really good. Back in a few."
Niko just nodded, grabbing a knife from the bedside table and tossing it her way. She caught it easily before tucking it into her belt, and then grabbed a pistol off the kitchen table before leaving. It wasn't her bow, but it still felt better than an empty hand.
-Fin-