she pulled back the arrow, her body tensed, arrow in between her fingers.Â
it was like an extension of her arm, apart of her body, apart of who she was.
she pulled back the arrow.
itâs her sixth birthday and her penthouse is filled with people. her classmates drown her in presents and their parents give their birthday greetings to her, and she has to smile even if she doesnât feel like it.
he said she would be home for her birthday. he said her mother would be here, that was the only gift kate wanted.
sheâs not here. she never is, and kate learns how to fake that everything is fine from a very young age.
she blows out her candles and looks up with a broken heart at all the familiar faces and yet the one she wanted isnât here.Â
her father stands against the wall, his face covered in the shadow, towering over her small body, making him seem as if heâs mount olympus and she canât see the top. heâs a suit without a face, without a body, hanging there against the wall as they party goes on. she hopes he isnât on the phone, she hopes his mind isnât on work.
he steps out of the darkness with a smile on his face and a gift in his hand, and kate finally gives a real smile for the first time on her birthday.Â
she loved her dad more than anything, and she was glad she at least had him.
she gets back from her ballet lessons in excitement. she didnât mind the various classes she took, ballet, piano, archery, but she looked forward to getting home. tonight was their dinner night, the day she looked forward to the most. she knew her father was a busy man, but she hated being in their big home all alone, she hated him being gone.
she spends all week looking forward to the day, looking forward to sit next to him at the table and eat, to hear about his work and the business one day she will gladly take over and keep in the family name. she wants to be just like her father, there is no one better she knows.
she hops into the room, her tutu still on, smile glued to her face and runs into his arms when she seems him there. heâs just getting off the phone, allowing his arms to be open for her, picking her up and twirling her around. there isnât much she wants to do with ballet, it isnât her favorite of the classes she takes, but she loves it because he loves it.Â
he smiles down at her, his face reflecting her own, like looking in a mirror. they look so much alike, she got her mothers lips and eyes but her fathers nose and hair. her mother is gone again, on her own adventure that her father says she is too young to understand, but one day she will. it doesnât hurt anymore, sheâs used to her mother being gone. the woman is practically a stranger now, a person she sees in photos and is told she looks like. her voice occasionally rings through her ears on a rare phone call, and sometimes she gets a gift in the mail. her father tells her her mother is on important business, that she loves her very much, and kate knows all that is true, but she still loves her father more because heâs here.
âkatie, iâve got some bad news.â her father breaks the silence, her wide smile shattering quickly, knowing what he was about to say. âi have some work to do at the office and i have to go right away. you know i donât want to, but itâs very important. iâll have dinner with you soon.
she nods her head and tries not to show how much it hurts, she doesnât want to disappoint him. âi understand, daddy. your work is important.â itâs like a script sheâs had memorized, because this is another thing she has gotten used to.Â
âi knew you would, katie. iâll see you soon.â and with a pat on her back he sets her down and walks out the door, leaving her in her pink tutu she wore just for him, and their maid with a sad face leading her to the kitchen for her dinner alone.
she learns to be independent from a pretty young age, her house always empty except for her. the help was there, but she didnât like to take advantage of that. if there was one thing she learned from her mother, who now only stopped by once every few months, it was not to abuse your privilege. her mother was a good woman, she knew that, spending her time around the world helping those less fortunate. kate wanted to do something like that too, an homage to both her parents, taking over her fathers company and using the money to give to the charities her mother worked for.Â
sometimes when her mother visited sheâd take her to places here in new york to help out, showing her the things she can do just to help out her community. kate loved it, spending time with her mother and helping people while doing it.Â
that only made it hurt more when she left again.
dinners with her father became rare, his work taking priority and she could see him become more stressed with it. something had changed, but she knew he would never tell her. she worried something wrong had happened in the company, but he was always gone so she couldnât even try to ask.
she was a child and she was on her own, left to her own devices. she had everything she needed, a chef, a maid, a chauffeur, every toy in the world. none of that mattered, none of that compared, it couldnât warm her in the loneliness of a house with no love, occupied only by a girl with no love.
her father has grown distant, far away, a shell of the man she once new. she only saw him leaving the house for work, not even a goodbye uttered as he briskly left the room. she was always asleep by the time he got back, lying on the couch waiting for him so she could at least say goodbye.Â
sheâd wake up to the phone ringing and him picking it up, and kate always knew about boundaries but she also always broke them. she was too curious, too inquisitive, a modern nancy drew. sheâd sneak out of her room and press her ears against the door, listening to the muffled shouts of her father to whomever was on the other line.
she knew something was wrong, but sheâd never find out.
she woke up one morning to someone shaking her, quickly trying to bring her out of her serene sleep. she opened her drooping eyes to look into the eyes of her mother, shaking and begging her to get up. kate questioned what was going on, rubbing her eyes and slowly getting out of bed. she was confused, none of her snooping had pointed to this.Â
her father stood by the door, no longer the shadow man he was all those years ago at her birthday but now shrouded in complete darkness. the only light in the room was the moon through the window, hiding all of him but his suit. it was so late but he was still in his suit. he was always in his suit.
he moved quickly and grabbed her mothers arm, pulling her away from kate. âeleanor, thatâs enough.â kate couldnât understand what was going on, she was too tired, she was too young.Â
her mother left with her father out of the room, no explanation given, no explanation would ever be given. she didnât hear anything all night, but things were never the same after that when her mother would come visit.Â
it was eighth grade when she learned her father was not the man she thought he was.
despite all her independence, kate had always been a social girl. wherever she went she was the most popular girl in the room. there wasnât a shy bone in her. she made friends everywhere she went, and at thirteen she was maturing rapidly.
that friday after school she had a sleepover planned with her friends, their parents were going to be gone so they would all come over and raid the liquor cabinet. none of them had ever been drunk before, and it was the perfect age to experiment. they all looked to kate as it happened, sitting in a circle taking swigs of a clear bottle of vodka. their faces all showed their disgust at the burn running down their throats except for kate. her face stayed still like she had taken a swig of water, like she had done this before. they all admired her for it, wanted to be her for it and questioned how she wasnât grossed out.
kate bishop lived for the burn, for the warmth in anything she could find, because in her house it felt like ice and she was tired of shivering. she welcomed the burn, swallowed it whole and let the fire of it ripple and ignite inside of her. she wanted to be a girl born in the fire, but bishops were made strictly of ice, and she knew she wasnât the exception of that in her family.Â
they had all gotten wasted, and while it was fun for awhile when one of the girls threw up on the others antique rug they were all kicked out. kate could only hope the warmth of the alcohol in her system kept her warm in the night, cuz she hated being home.
she was so used to being alone at this point, her father a faceless entity that only slept there. he was like a skeleton in a closet, a mad scientist hidden in his lab, he was a businessman. she rarely saw him anymore, but she didnât mind. she tried to push the hurt away, tell herself she didnât feel it, that it wasnât worth the trouble.Â
she opened the door with no fear of her father being there, of him seeing her drunk. trying to close the front door as slow as possible she tip toed away to her room, but her curiosity always got the better of her. the door to her father office was left slightly ajar, a mere crack to look through, but what led her there were the grunts coming out of the room. her feet led her there almost on their own, and when she peeked in she had to bite her tongue to hold back a gasp at what she saw.
her father mercilessly beating a man to a pulp, his fists covered in his blood while the manâs face was unrecognizable due to the beating. she couldnât help but stare, watch it all take place, her father lifting the limp man up to continue his beating even after he was down.
the look on her fathers face was one she had never seen before, his face was feral, he was like a monster. yet his eyes maintained that icy bishop cool, they looked unfazed, as if that was the norm.
she went back to her room as if nothing happened, but she couldnât fall asleep.
after that any respect she had for her father was gone, and she no longer wanted to be anything like him.
his business, his legacy, all of what once sounded like a dream became a nightmare for her. she would never want to be like him, but she itched with the desire to know what she had walked in on that day, and what secrets her father kept.
she kept her distance from him, though that wasnât hard. he was still always gone at all hours of the day, not there enough to even notice how different she had acted around him.Â
she just started her freshmen year when her mother died under unknown circumstances, or at least unknown to her.
her mother had been in boulder helping others when it happened, but her father wouldnât tell her. she didnât know why, and with each time she asked her father grew more and more annoyed at the question.
he told her not to pry, to let dead things lie.
she learned to stop asking for things, because no one would tell the truth, and the only way to get something you wanted was that you had to do it yourself.Â
she didnât cry when her mother died, though she wouldnât let anyone know that. she tried to, she wanted to, but it wouldnât come out. she had never been a very emotional person, but even as she watched her mothers grave slowly drop into the ground no pain arose.Â
her mother was a stranger to her, a woman she barely knew, a woman whoâs blood ran through her veins and yet hadnât been there for any of her birthdays. she loved her mother, she knew she wasnât a bad person, she knew there was something that had happened between her and her father, but the woman was an enigma she never got to know.
she wanted to cry but no tears fell, but a burning desire to know the truth lit inside of her.
the bishopâs were amazing at keeping secrets though, yet another thing she wasnât the exception of.Â
she was fifteen when it happened, and sheâd never be the same girl again.Â
she was a freshmen in high school and her life was perfect, it was straight out of a movie. sheâs beautiful, rich, popular, and popular. her classes were a breeze, her free time filled with invites, she was even planning to try out for the cheerleading team which everyone knew she had a spot practically reserved for her.Â
she didnât allow these things to get to her head, she stayed humble, she stayed grounded. when she was done hanging out after school she would do volunteer work, helping those around her. her life seemed flawless, she seemed flawless.Â
that was when it happened.
she had been walking home late from the soup kitchen, taking the scenic route through central park through the moonlight. it was surprisingly empty, like a little haven meant only for her.
then she was pushed to the ground by something behind her, someone behind her, their hands wrapping around her neck to make sure she couldnât scream, to make sure she couldnât fight as they tackled her to the ground and forced themselves on her.Â
she had to walk home with bruises on her throat, blood on her thigh, and the weight of being raped forever on her back.
she laid in her bed and cried until she couldnât anymore, until her eyes were swollen and her throat couldnât handle the pain anymore. she scrubbed her body clean until her skin was red and raw, wanting to take the feeling of anothers skin off her own.
she wallowed in it for weeks, becoming a shell of herself, isolating herself from the distractions she once loved. she took her name off the cheerleading list at school, she ignored any invitations to go out, hid alone at lunch.
then she was mad, she was filled with rage that something like that had been taken from her and that she would allow it to keep taking from her. she wouldnât let it change her, she wouldnât let it make her feel and become lesser than the girl she had always been.
she dived fully back into the queen bee, even more so, and she never cried again.
she became the life of the party, skin tight dresses and taking back shots and everyone waited for when she would get there because then the fun would truly start.
grinding against strange boys and letting them touch her, fuck her, and the first few times made her feel sick but afterwards it got better, afterwards it was the only thing that made her feel alive. she needed it, she needed to erase the memories of what had happened and erase it with new ones, regain who she was and her sexuality.
she signed up for self defense classes, knowing she would never feel safe again but also knowing she would do everything in her power to make sure nothing like that ever happened again. taking out her pain and her rage on the punching bag, working out until she couldnât breathe and still feeling like it wasnât enough.
then she realized it wasnât, but something else was.
it was then she decided to be a hero. it wasnât enough to protect herself, but she needed to protect others as well. she donned a bow and arrow and a matching deep purple set of clothes. she hid her eyes with sunglasses, and she fought.Â
she fought until she bled and she fought until she was bruised, she fought until she was so exhausted at night that she could sleep without a nightmare or any fears.
she fought and that made her happy, being a hero made her more happy than anything she had ever known.
thatâs when she knew it would be okay.
sheâs sixteen and sheâs never been on a date before. many have tried and failed because dating was never kateâs scene. even as a child she never fantasized about a wedding and a prince charming, crushes were never a thing. sheâd fuck you but dating was out of the question, dating wasnât even a thought.
but he pushed. and he pushed. and it wasnât in an endearing way, it made her want to rip her hair out because no matter how many times she said no he insisted until she said yes.
she sat at the other side of the carriage as he held flowers, she tried to keep her distance and she tried to insist they were nothing more than friends. she told him the truth, she never lead anyone on, and she was always honest about her intentions.
boys still called her a tease, a whore, threatening her when she rejected them. it didnât bother her, their words didnât matter, but he just kept pushing.
he began to scream as she said this, yelling at her for breaking his heart, for not even giving him a chance.Â
and after all that, he kissed her, and she thought she should never go to central park again because this always happens.Â
she pushed him off and yelled in his face, and if this would do anything for her it further proved that dating was not what she wanted.
clint welcomed her with open arms and the brutal truth she had never been given before. he took the role of everything in her life she had been truly missing, he had given her the care that she never knew others got the privilege of feeling.
he taught her everything she knew, how to defend herself, how to be a hero even without powers. his shitty apartmentâs couch became her second bed, his dog became her own as well, but another reason they got along so well was because they mirrored each other so perfectly.
daddy issues? check. pretending to have it all together when they donât? check. a fear of love and commitment because theyâve never experienced positively? check.Â
they were so good for each other, together they were the best version of themselves, but they also fed each others flaws. they were stuck in their rut together, hiding behind a bow and arrow and witty remarks and behind each others back so neither had to truly admit what was wrong with them.
they both were meant to run, to run away from what they truly felt and what needed to happen. they were stunted youths, afraid to grow up despite the world forcing them to at such a young age.
he promises he will never lie to her, that there would be no point. heâs the first person she believes when he says this.
clint barton is the first person to truly show her love, and clint barton is the first person she knows she can safely love back.
tommy shepherd also mirrors her perfectly, the only difference with him and clint is that she fucks tommy.
they share their internalized fear of commitment, of opening up to people, their pasts of people lying and deceiving and hurting them shining through.
they both refuse to talk about it, their closest form of therapy is an overabundance of sex.
so sometimes itâs easier if they fuck each other, because with each other they donât need to say a word to understand. when the other calls looking for a distraction they know what is happening already. they know to get a drink, and take them dancing, and bring them back home and without saying one word about whatever is on the others mind they can look into each others eyes and just know.
theyâre both fucked up, and theyâre both afraid, and they both want to know what love feels like but is too scared to give it a chance.
kate isnât afraid of anything, her entire life has been dedicated to defending herself, to feel good on her own.
the only thing she is afraid of is love, of the feelings she has never felt and can never understand, and she doesnât even know the severity of it because how can she when it has never been thrust upon her.
she is afraid because that is the one thing she canât account for, prepare for, it is the one thing she doesnât know.
tommy is a good distraction, because he understands too.
she graduates high school with no plans for college, her passion is being a hero and there isnât any course she can study in that.Â
her time is spent on the streets with a bow and arrow and her sunglasses on, side by side with clint going on mysterious missions he wonât fully explain but she doesnât totally mind. as long as sheâs fighting, helping, sheâs fine with it.
when she isnât sheâs out with friends. partying with america and tommy and smoking too much weed. walking home late at night after going to a strangers for âtherapyâ.Â
she still lives with her father, but not much has changed. the house is still empty, the house is still cold, bringing out all the childhood insecurities she thought she had lost long ago but seemed to never be truly rid of. she tries to stay out of the house as much as possible, even sleeping over at clintâs most nights, but she canât always be gone.Â
her father remarried, and to a girl she went to high school with. her stomach growls with nausea at it, knowing they only could have met through kate at school, and it made her even more mad. all this time she thought he was so busy with work, no time to even sit down and have dinner with his own daughter, but he made time for another girl her same age, enough to marry her too.
there was no big wedding, it was in the courthouse and they only told kate days before the marriage was going to happen. she didnât join them, rather getting so drunk she was left asleep on americaâs bathroom floor after puking her guts out. she knew her limit, she never went too far, but she made an exception for this.
the only time she sees her father now is with his child-bride on his lap, fawning over each other and making her want to scream at the top of her lungs at how horrible it all is.
itâs somehow worse when his new wife isnât there though, when itâs just the two of them.
she knows something she shouldnât about her father, she can never forget, and with the years going on she slowly learns more and more. her father continues to prove himself to be a very different man than she thought.
she starts to suspect he knows something about her as well, because the way they sit at opposite ends of the dinner table he gives her the same knowing look she gives him.
she starts to fear her father, but the man is all she has.
peter comes into her life like a blessing and a curse.
heâs so different than anyone she knows. heâs sweet, and innocent, and smart, and almost heavenly. he feels like her own personal angel here to take her from the depths of her own personal hell and show her what itâs like to actually feel good.Â
he distracts her in a different way than anyone else, just being around him is enough. she doesnât need him to bury himself in her to feel good for a short amount of time, or to distract her mind from the beating rage inside of it. he holds her hand and shows her silly movies, and he teases her and makes her laugh, and he looks at her the way no one has looked at her before.
he looks at her like sheâs more than anyone has ever tried to tell her she was. he looks at her like sheâs the best person he knows. he looks at her more than someone to fuck, or someone to tame. he looks at her as a person and not a possession, a prize to be won.Â
when sheâs around him she feels like a girl. she doesnât feel like a hero, or a tragedy, she just feels like a regular girl who has never known the struggles she has faced. she feels like a girl who could fall in love if her mind and heart werenât so afraid.Â
and she has to fight against it because she knows it would do no good. she loves him too much, cares about him too much to ruin him. thatâs all she could do is ruin him. she wouldnât know how to love him properly, love him the way he deserves, and he wouldnât know how to love a girl like her. a girl with an icy heart and fiery veins and a fear of the best thing he could offer her.Â
heâs her best friend in a way clint isnât, and tommy isnât, and america isnât. heâs her best friend in the way that he makes her want to be the version of her that he sees. heâs her best friend in the way that she wishes the world was just them two on his bunk bed in his auntâs apartment.
she caresses his cheek and lays her head on his chest, and she wants to keep him good. she wants to save him from the turmoil she has known, and she wants him to be hers but she would be a disaster he could never endure.
she canât lose him, so she takes what she can get, and she knows that will be enough.
she pulls back the arrow.
