Trick shot!

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“So do it, Barton. Kill me. But you don’t have it in you, do you?”

“Well good because I don’t doubt your punches hurt like a bitch. No offense.”

“At least you’re smart enough not to underestimate me.” She’s mostly teasing.

“Of course I won’t underestimate you. You’re way stronger than me, no matter how you slice it.”

“It ain’t about bein’ cool, kid, or else Steve wouldn’t have been allowed in.”

      “Heh, that’s true. Plus, you’re a good guy with super cool arrow shooting abilities. You do make a wonderful addition to the team.” 

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

Hydra Corp.’s biological warfare experiments take a horrifying turn when a deadly virus is accidentally released. The infection spreads like wildfire and each city quickly descends into chaos, overrun by hordes of the undead. A small group of survivors fight to stay alive and attempt to find a cure, while making a long trek to the country’s last remaining safe-zone. 

“Yeah sometimes. But you just have to be careful. I don’t drink it when it’s that fresh, to be honest, otherwise I’d die. Well, not die. But I’d burn myself up pretty good.”

      “You are absolutely ridiculous. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder how you were able to join the avengers team when you’re as dorky as you are.”

“It ain’t about bein’ cool, kid, or else Steve wouldn’t have been allowed in.”

“Uh… No? Why would you even think that? Who told you that?”

      “Nobody told me, I just assumed. But it seems as if I assumed right. How do you even drink from one of those? Doesn’t it spill.”

“Yeah sometimes. But you just have to be careful. I don’t drink it when it’s that fresh, to be honest, otherwise I’d die. Well, not die. But I’d burn myself up pretty good.”

“So do it, Barton. Kill me. But you don’t have it in you, do you?”

“Yeah, I know. Are we cool though? Do you need to punch me so you’re not mad?”

“No Clint, I don’t need to punch you. It’s fine.”

“Well good because I don’t doubt your punches hurt like a bitch. No offense.”

Pietro blinks, and tilts his head, looking at Clint with no emotion on his face. None at all. “I’m sorry,” there’s no emotion in his words either, spoken by route, like a programmed response. He doesn’t even seem like he cares about it how long since he disappeared. Doesn’t care about that it’s Clint whose standing in front of him.

“it’s better than yours pizza boy.”

“Touche. But seriously, did you like never cook for yourself in the last seventy-five years?”

“Not at all. Especially not when it comes to pizza.”

      “You are such a teenager. Let me guess, you drink coffee straight from the pot too, don’t you?”

“Uh... No? Why would you even think that? Who told you that?”