81-Wolves

At two in the morning, Clint is waken up by someone pounding at his front door. It scares him slightly, especially since his entire family is currently visiting Laura's parents out of state. Clint reaches into his beside table, pulling out a handgun. He quickly and quietly runs down the stairs, moving in the dark towards the front door. The pounding on the door just continued. Clint looked through the peephole and saw someone he wasn't expecting to see again in his entire life. He set the gun aside and quickly unlocked the door, opening it.

"Pey? Why are you here?" Clint asks, quickly blinking the sleep out of his eyes. The blonde was standing in front of him, tears rolling down her cheeks. She was wearing a hoodie with a name of some stupid fashion brand's name plastered over the front of it, a pair of black leggings underneath that.

"I-I didn't know where to go." Peyton sobs out, not bothering to wipe her tears. Clint opens the door a little wider, letting her walk inside. The archer peeped his head outside, looking around before shutting the door and locking it.

"Do you want something to drink? Something to eat?" He asks her, watching as she moves to sit down on his little brown leather couch. Her eyes linger on the framed picture of Clint's family. She shuts her eyes, trying to calm down. Thank God his family wasn't here.

"Pey? Hey, what's wrong?" He asks, sitting down next to her on the couch. Peyton's eyes open and for once, they aren't filled with hate and malice. She just looks so fucking sad.

"It just been a really, really bad week and I-It's been just a bad fucking five years." Peyton tells him honestly, wiping at her tears. Clint's heart pangs in his chest and he immediately wants to comfort her. It's like all of those feelings are coming back to him, rushing back. Clint scoots a little bit closer and wraps his arm around her as she starts to sob a little harder.

"Hey, hey it's okay. It's okay, Pey." He responds, trying to soothe her. Clint smiles as she wraps her arms around him, letting her old teammate hold her tightly. The father of three is completely caught off guard when Pey presses a knife against his neck. Clint's eyes widen and he wants to jump back.

"Oh, you've been waiting for this haven't you?" A voice that isn't Peyton's purrs back to him. Suddenly, the room around him shifts and while Clint is in his living room, it's just off. Peyton is no longer sitting in front of him. Instead, there's a blonde woman who sort of looks like Peyton sitting in front of him with a smirk of her face. Her hair is pulled away from her face in a high ponytail and she's wearing a tight black leather jacket, tight jeans, and high heels. She puts her hand on his heart and suddenly Clint's frozen.

"Who the fuck are you?" Clint breathes as she gets up, moving towards a bag that had appeared when everything had faded away. The woman chuckles, leaning over to reach into her bag. She grabs a vial and walks back over to Clint. The blonde straddles him, using the knife to cut across his wrist. The Avenger cries out slightly, wincing through the pain. The woman rolls her eyes, continuing to fill the vial with his blood. She's squeezing his wrist, trying to make the blood flow faster.

"Oh, you don't see the resemblance? Wow, my dear sister really likes them stupid. Come on, Barton, you know who I look like. You were thinking about it." She teases as she puts a stopper on the vial. Clint almost stops breathing when he realizes that she knew what he was thinking. The woman tucks the vial away before using the bloody knife to cut off a bit of his hair. Clint's eyes widen slightly, looking at the woman as she gets off of his lap to put his hair into a plastic bag.

"Your Peyton's sister?" He asks, not really believing it. The woman, Peyton's sister, grabs his face, forcing him to look at her. Her long red nails dig into his skin, but not hard enough to draw blood. There was barely anything left of the iris in her eyes, her pupil fully taking over.

"The name's Lilith, but you won't remember that. No, not at all. You're going to go back to sleep and act like nothing happened, alright? You're good at that." Lilith tells him with a grin as she cuts her wrist as well. She forces her wrist against his mouth, her other hand holding his head. Clint cannot do a think as her blood fills his mouth. Lilith laughs and the sound sends shivers down Clint's spine.

"This is going to be fun, Barton." She purrs to him as her influence fills his mind. His eyes cloud and they roll back into his head, the world going dark for him. There's nothing in his head.

Lilith knew that if she wanted something done well, she needed to do it herself. And besides, her targets were much too important to let her underlings even attempt the tasks. She couldn't let them fuck up her plan, not when she was this close. If that meant she had to get her hands dirty then she would. Besides, she loved it, craved seeing that look of fear on her victims's faces.

So the next day, Lilith sits in the law offices of Nelson, Murdock, and Page-which is really just located in Nelson's brother's butcher shop. Tears are running down her face, mixing with her mascara as she pretends to fiddle with the hem of her black pencil skirt. She had covered her blonde hair with a black wig, trying to not look like her sister...at first. Play it smart. Lilith was playing with her food and she knew it.

"Mrs. Bennett, we are extremely sorry that you had to go through this difficult situation." Nelson says after Lilith tells her fake sob story about being abused by her (again, fake) husband, using her more famous sister's sad life. Lilith carefully wipes away her tears with a Kleenex that the long-haired lawyer had handed her. You should've became an actress.

"And you know was the worst part, I went to go visit my husband, wanting him to surprise him. I wanted to work things out with him. I really needed him that day and-oh it was raining hard. It was absolutely pouring and he walks out of the bar with his secretary. And they kiss, right there. Right in front of me." Lilith sniffles as she uses Matthew Murdock's infidelity against him. Karen's face pales and her eyes glance at Matt. Hit too close to home, eh? Bingo. Matt clenches his jaw slightly for a second, but Lilith catches it.

"That's horrible, Mrs. Bennett." Foggy tells her sympathetically, eyebrows furrowed. Matthew's eyebrows are also furrowed, head tilted slightly. Lilith tosses the Kleenex to the ground, chuckling. She uncrossed her legs, putting the black Giuseppe heels on the ground.

"Ms. Page, my story seemed to hit you a little close to home right? It should, since you were there. I wasn't though." The woman says as she takes off the wig, letting it fall the ground. She shook her hair out. Karen's eyes are wide as she looks at Lilith. Matt stands, as does Foggy. 

"I think we are done here, Mrs. Bennett-" Matt starts, his stance defensive. Lilith rolls her eyes, waving a hand. The two men are forced back into their seats, all three of them now incapable of moving.

"We will be done when I say so. And please, call me Lilith." She purrs, standing up and grabbing the Chanel purse that was resting beside her chair. Foggy looks at Matt and Karen, obviously not knowing what is going on. Lilith chuckles, "Foggy looks confused, I'm guessin' Matt didn't tell really tell you why he and Little Miss Superhero broke up? Tsk tsk, can't build a friendship like that."

"Who are you?" Matt asks, trying to change the subject. Lilith pulls out her long knife, the same she used on Clint. She twirls it in her hand, loving the fear it bring out of Karen and Foggy. She could practically taste it in the air. The corner of her mouth was tipped upward.

"Well, you can't see the resemblance, but you know my sister. Dated her, fucked her over. I just said her name. Use your brain, Daredevil." Lilith taunts, walking around the desk and sitting on it, using her knife to lift Matt's chin. He grimaces, trying not to cut himself as he thinks of ways to get out of his situation.

"Your Peyton Stark's sister?" Karen questions and Lilith doesn't even bother to look at her. She isn't important, she's just a whiny, sad, regular human. And a fucking idiot at that.

"You know, it's that stupidity that got your brother killed, Karen." Lilith purrs with a smirk, tears brimming in the strawberry blonde's eyes. The eldest Bennett turns her attention onto Foggy, head tilting backward as she asks, "What do you think Foggy? I've heard the resemblance is almost uncanny."

"Y-Yeah. She looks like Pey, Matt." Foggy stammers out, eyes wide as he looks at the scene unfolding in front of him. Lilith grabs Matt's wrist, holding it tightly. She takes the knife and slices across his wrist. Karen gasps loudly, trying to move. Lilith rolls her eyes, grabbing a vial from her purse and collecting the blind man's blood.

"Karen, my sister had qualms about killing you, but I don't. In fact, I'd love to kill you right here and now." Lilith responds coldly as she puts the stopper on the vial of blood once she has enough. She carefully tucks it into her purse, beside Clint's. Her green eyes narrow at Karen, pinning the younger woman to her seat as she continues her work.

"You won't lay a hand on her." Matt threatens as Lilith cuts of a piece of his hair, putting it in another plastic bag. She tosses that in her purse as well.

"Now, Matthew, are you really in a place to be threatening me? No, of course not. Especially when you have so many people connected to you. " Lilith retorts as she slices into her wrist, grinning at the sting. She let some of the blood roll down her forearm, not caring about the mess. She cuts the opposite arm, the other already marked from when she performed this ritual with Clint the day prior.

"Wha-What are you going to do?" Foggy speaks up, obviously very terrified to be in this situation. Lilith holds the back of Matt's head and forces her wrist against his mouth. Karen's eyes are wide, not wanting to scream or say anything. She can't, she's too fucking scared.

"It doesn't matter what I'm going to do, Foggy. You won't remember a damn thing." Lilith responds with a smirk as Matt Murdock is forced to drink her blood, her influence taking over. She licks her lips as Karen Page cries.

-

I needed to be violent, needed to fulfill wrath. So it probably was a good thing that I told Bucky I was going to be gone for a few days. And luckily for me, I knew the location of a HYDRA base that needed to be taken care of. So I snuck into the house when everyone was away, most likely taking Benny to school. I filled a bag with extra clothes, my suit, the sword, and a few other things I needed. I took the only Quinn Jet we had left and flew myself there. Thank God I decided to put one in a hangar that wasn't at the headquarters upstate.  I landed the jet a hour or two away from the base, putting it in cloaking mode. I didn't want to be tracked, not with what I was going to do. And I definitely knew how to keep myself hidden.

When I pulled my burgundy suit out of the bag, a wave of emotions hit me. I hadn't worn any of my suits since I lost Tony and while this may not be the exact suit I wore that day (that one was practically torn to shreds), it still made me pause. I let out a shaky breath before taking my clothes off and slipped on my suit, zipping it all the way up to my neck. I tug on my boots, tightening them I run a brush through my hair before pulling my hair back into a bun, not wanting it to get in the way. I swipe a coat of chapstick over my lips before tucking my phone into a pocket. I grab my sword, letting the energy roll through me as I walk out of the Quinn Jet.

An hour later, I land outside the base with my sword in my hand. There was some part of me that wanted people to hurt and God, these people have done so much hurting to the world. I knew exactly where they were going so might as well make them get to their destination faster. I pulled out my phone, quickly tapping into their sound system. I needed to make an entrance. So, Wu-Tang Clan's "Protect Ya Neck" blasted over the speakers that filled the HYDRA base.

I waved my hand and threw the gates open.  Immediately, hundreds of guns were aimed at me as Inspectah Deck's verse started and blared over the speakers. I smiled as I let my flames climb down to sword in my hand. The man nearest to me starts to shout at me in German. He presses the barrel of his gun against my temple. That darkness quickly fills me, snuffing out whatever light was left.

Some part of me wishes he would pull the trigger. To take me out before what I was about to do .

"Lucifer, all of this killing, I do this for you." I say softly before I turn on heel and shove the sword through the underside of his jaw and through his head. His eyes go wide and he coughs, spitting his blood all over my face. I yank my sword out and immediately go to work.

I move elegantly and smoothly, sword slashing at flesh as I dodge bullets. A bullet grazes my arm, but I don't feel the pain. I smirk, turning my attention to the man that shot me, and hold the sword tightly in both hands. I rush toward and swing the sword. The metal slices through his neck, letting his head roll to the ground. Jesus, what have you become?

I can feel the crown of flames resting on my forehead and I felt that extra power that I had received during the Burning.

Oh, it felt so fucking good.

My blood covered sword slices at the abdomen of another man, making such a mess. This slaughter makes me feel something else. I stop for a moment when a knife lands itself in my shoulder. I look down at the blade and I look at the man who threw it. I pull the knife out and I throw it at the man, landing in his chest. More men poured out of the building and I just mowing through them, one after another. If they were too far away for my sword, they were turned to ash or thrown into the air and fell back to the ground hard.

And it all made me smile.

Every time my sword cut through someone's flesh, something was lifted off of my shoulders. I felt weightless as I move, dancing around as blood spilled all other the ground. I just moved and moved, doing what felt right. I felt like a kid in a candy store.

-

I come home three days later, well three days after I had flew away from Bucky. After landing the Quinn Jet at its hangar, I gathered my things and flew to the house in Brooklyn. I land in the backyard and slid the glass door open. Within seconds, I had two guns drawn and aimed at me. I dropped my bag and raised my hands over my head. I looked up at Sam and Bucky, tears brimming in my eyes.

"Jesus Christ." Sam breathes out, both of them lowering their guns. The pride that had filled me earlier was gone. Instead, I was empty again. The whispers from the sword and the darkness wouldn't stop. There was so many things I wanted to say, things I needed to say.

Speak, damn it.

"I need to shower." I force out, my voice thick with emotion. Its the only thing I was able to say and it was one hundred percent true. I reek, the stench of death, blood, and burnt flesh was rolling off my body. Sam and Bucky look at each other before looking at me. I don't say another word as I gather my things and I float upstairs, not wanting to ruin my floors with my disgusting boots.

I keep on floating until I reach my bathroom, shutting the doors I need to with a wave of my hand. I kicked my boots off as soon as I was in the bathroom, carefully putting them in my bathtub. I toss my phone onto the counter before I get unto the shower, turning the water on. While inside the shower, I took off the suit and tried to wash as much blood out of it as I could, tears running down my face. I squeezed the water out before tossing it over the glass door of the shower. After that, I grab a wash cloth and pour probably too much soap on to it. I rub my skin raw and scrub my scalp until it's sore. Once I knew my body and hair was clean, my legs gave out and I sank to floor of the shower, sobbing almost hysterically.

It takes an hour or two for me to get out of the shower. My fingers are prune-y and my head is pounding. I look at myself in the bathroom mirror, prepared to see all of the wounds I had acquired today. Instead, my skin is untouched. In fact, I watch as a large stab wound on my shoulder heals itself, skin fusing back together. I blink, not truly believing my eyes. My hand shakily reaches up and I touch where the wound be, feeling nothing but smooth skin.

"Holy shit." I murmur, looking all over my body for some evidence of my fighting today. The only thing that's on my skin is the scars I've acquired throughout the years. You're not curious about that? Not even in the slightest? I'm too exhausted, too weak. I'll focus on it when I don't feel like a piece of shit. Oh, so never? Fuck off.

I tug on some of Steve's clothes, letting his scent fill my nose. I suppose I hope that it will combat the smell of death and burning flesh that had seemingly made its home inside of my nose. I tug on a pair of fuzzy socks that Natasha had bought me before pulling my hair in a bun, deciding to deal with that shit later as well.

I step out of my room only to push Neddy in his bassinet from Sam's room back into mine. My darling dear son is still sleeping when I roll him so he is beside my bed. I wish I could carry Benny in here as well, so I can have both of my babies as close to me as possible. However, I realize that the action would be incredibly selfish of me, especially since he has school tomorrow and I shouldn't disrupt his schedule even more. At least you can try to be a good mom. I am about to lay down on the bed when someone knocks on my door lightly.

"Hey dumb ass, I have food for you." Bucky announces before opening the door. The idiot was holding a tray of food that didn't smell disgusting. I walk over, looking at the things he's offering, studying the food. The white macaroni and cheese, palette of salad, and bread look awfully familiar. Bucky nudges my bedroom door with his foot in order to close it.

"I don't think I can eat at the moment, Buck." I respond as I walk back towards the large bed in the middle of the room. I sit on the edge of it, turning my focus onto my sleeping child. Bucky has followed my steps a few seconds after I sit down. He puts the tray next to me and sits on the other side of it, bed sipping under his weight. My head is still pounding and it's making the room fuzzy.

"It's Panera. Sam said you would enjoy it." The soldier explains, to which I nod. On any other day, I'd love to eat the extremely unhealthy white people food, but I can bring myself to. The delightful smell of the cheesy goodness doesn't even reach my nose. The putrid stench of burning flesh won't leave my nose. You're a damn monster. Do you realize that?

I shut my eyes, trying to force down the emotions that are threatening to rise up. There's a lump in my throat that is just getting bigger and bigger. You should feel bad. You fucking monster. The images of today flash in my mind-All that bloodshed-Bodies torn apart-by you. My eyes shoot open and I can feel Bucky's eyes on me.

"You don't need to tell me what happened, okay? That isn't any of my business." He starts, carefully testing what he can say with every word, "But, I am going to sit here. I just want to make sure you're okay. If you're okay with that."

I don't turn my head to look at him. Tears are brimming my eyes because I can never cry enough. My heart aches in my chest, making my entire body hurt. I don't move and I barely think I'm breathing. It just all hurts too much and I really don't think I can force any words out of my mouth. Bucky sighs and bed shifts as he stands. He is still looking at me, most likely with concern. He turns and begins to walk towards the door, the wood floor creaking under his feet.

"Stay, please." I say quietly and I don't think he can hear me. Bucky has to hear me, because he stops in front of the door. His right hand is raised to grab the handle, but it stays in the air, not moving an inch. I shouldn't be alone tonight, not like this. He turns his head and his eyes catch mine. Bucky just nods and carefully kicks off his shoes and socks, walking back over to where I'm sitting.