"So are you signing the application or not?" the green-haired person asked impatiently.
Natasha smiled. "Of course I am!"
The Triskelion.
Barton sat listlessly on the couch, his gaze wandering from time to time, his mind filled with memories of when he first met Natasha.
"Barton... I..." Steve walked over, unsure what else to say, and could only pat Barton gently on the back.
Barton glanced at Steve, then lowered his head again, preserving his own quiet moment as he slowly reminisced about his comrade.
And it was hard to say whether Barton blamed Steve a little, too.
If Steve hadn't inexplicably fallen into such a slump...
With Captain America's protection and help, Natasha might not have died.
Normally, Barton would have been much warmer toward the captain.
But not today. He had no desire to chat at all. He just wanted to be alone.
Steve naturally understood how Barton felt.
Bucky's death had been a devastating emotional blow to him.
Coulson hurried over. When he saw Barton, he lowered his head in silent mourning. "I'm sorry, Barton."
Barton's eyes dimmed, and he asked in a muffled voice, "Coulson, why was Natasha sent on a mission like this, one that left her dead in such a horrific state?"
Something was very wrong. Natasha wasn't a frontline combatant to begin with.
Generally, only intelligence-gathering missions were assigned to Natasha.
Why had a direct combat mission fallen to her?
And Barton couldn't even view the full mission briefing concerning Natasha.
A look of resolve appeared on Barton's face.
He had to find out exactly how Natasha had died.
But then he thought of his family.
Barton had left the Avengers for his family's sake. After all, the Superhuman Registration Act stipulated that he had to register his information to remain with