Chapter 12 ━━ Bad Influence, Bro

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Seventeen year old Hedeon is walking aimlessly through the crowd of people in the building until his eyes set on a brunette in her late adolescents at the bar. Classic music is playing in the background and the formal event is decorated with a posh interior matching the colours of black and gold.

As he reaches the bar, he slowly sit on the stool next to the brunette, Karina Smirnov, who is wearing a fancy dress with her expensive jewellery. He pulls out a seductive smirk and speaks, glancing ahead him. "Ну привет. Мне было интересно, примет ли такое великолепное создание, как ты, предложение выпить?" (Well, hello there. I was wondering if a gorgeous creature like you would accept an offer for a drink?)

She turns to him and eyeing the stranger for a second. But then again, a small smile spreads on her face. "Бьюсь об заклад, такое красивое лицо не очень часто слышит 'нет." (I bet a handsome face like that doesn't hear 'no' very often)

Hedeon's smirk widens with triumph as he finally glances at the woman. "Что я могу заставить тебя выпить, красавица?"
(What can I get you to drink, beautiful?)

"It's Karina, and I'd love a Vesper." She says, not thinking twice of what she's involved in.

"We'd love a Vesper." Hedeon says to the bartender, not leaving his eyes off the woman as if she's his prey for the night. He chuckles darkly inside his mind at the thought itself.

"Ты никогда не говорил мне свое имя." (You never told me your name) Karina asks, trailing her fingertips down his arm.

"It's Hedeon."

"Hedeon." She rolls his name through her tongue, testing the sound of it. "I like it."

He leans forward and purrs to her ear. "Тебе лучше запомнить мое имя. Может пригодиться, когда что-то случится."
(You better remember my name. Might be handy when things happen)

Karina giggles with amusement. "He isn't just charming, he's sexy too."

"Я больше чем это." (I'm more than that) The destroyer states, confidently.

"I'd be surprised if you're not." Karina says and leans into his ear this time. "Хочешь пойти куда-нибудь более уединенно? Ванную комнату?" (Wanna go somewhere more private? Washroom?)

He smirks is back and his whisky brown, takes in her appearance. "I'm absolutely delightful to."

And their drinks are long forgotten as the next thing he knows is him taking Karina up against the washroom wall, them enjoying fun, irreverent sex. When they both arrive at their climaxes, Hedeon sets her down. Karina immediately leans into the wall, trying to catch her breath.

"How was it?" Hedeon asks as he pulls on his trousers and adjusts his now wrinkled tuxedo.

"Great." She breathes out.

"Great." Hedeon smirks and tilts his head. "You did a good job. But brunettes are not my type." He says and her eyebrows knitting together with confusion.

"Don't give me those eyes that scream how much of a dick I am. It was fun spending time with you-" Hedeon lets out a sarcastic laugh as his dangerous eyes meet hers. He slams her back to the wall once again, making her let out a gasp at the sudden action. He reaches a hand forward towards her left cheek before making way to her neck and inching his lips towards her ear. "-but not really. Let's get straight into business, shall we?"

"Hedeon-"

"Теперь скажи мне, где я могу найти твоего дорогого папу, или я перережу тебе горло наполовину." (Now tell me where I can find your dearest daddy or I'll cut your throat half) Hedeon threats maliciously, his hand adding more and more pressuring to her neck every single passing second that he can feel her blood pumping through her veins. He can literally smell how frightened she is.

"Hedeon, please." The woman chokes on her breaths, desperately thrashing around to be free, her heart rate quickens, until it finally falls.

Сегодня никто не покидает здание. Убейте их всех, включая Михаила Смирнова.
(No one leaves the building tonight. Kill them all including Mikhail Smirnov)

The voice inside his head echoes with a demanding tone, which Hedeon has no choice, but to obey.

He tosses the lifeless body of the woman and cracks his head to the sides with a void expression. "Looks like it's time for a rampage."

"So you killed her?" Clint asks, the dark haired super soldier, who is adorably rubbing his eyes like a child. His short, charcoal black hair is sticking to all directions, screaming he's just out of bed. Both the brothers are walking towards the kitchen, deep in their conversation regarding the horrific nightmare Heather experienced last night.

"Yes and the other people in the event or whatever it is. Every single one. It was a mass bloodbath and I enjoyed it." Heather says, raking his hand through his hair with a stressful expression. "Then I woke up. And I was sweating like crazy, and I couldn't breathe."

"Really? Let me take a guess here..." Clint starts only to stop by Heather himself.

"No, I know, you think it has to be something with my surgery and I should have another long ass bed rest." Heather says, freezing on his tracks, which makes the older Barton stop and look at him with concern.

"No, of course not." The former Avenger shakes his head in denial. But the look on Heather's face makes him let out a deep sigh. "Yeah, that's totally it. Hey, come on, it's gonna be fine, all right? Personally, I think you're handling this freakin' amazingly."

"I don't know. It felt so real." Heather whispers, looking down at his feet, sheepishly.

"How real?"

"Like it actually happened. Did it happen? Did I murder those people like a lunatic, serial killer?" Heather asks with a low tone. The nightmare itself makes him drown in guilt and if it's real, he doesn't even want to think how it'll go. There's no other person who he trusts more than this brother. He desperately needs Clint's confirmation of his innocence or his brain might burst out of his skull. "Is that why I can't remember my past?"

"If we look only at the past, we lose sight of the future. And what a future it could be."

"I just want to know if I did that."

Clint hesitates for a bit before he smiles lightly. He pats on Heather's back lightly as an encouragement to throw the nightmares to the dustbin. "Just a killer nightmare. Don't stress on it. You're a good person, Barney."

Heather sighs in relief at his words and breaks out a grin. "Yeah. These strange dreams are getting into my head."

"Come on. Let's have breakfast." Clint says and they both once again begin to walk.

"My back hurts like hell." Heather says, stretching his back while he lets out a yawn. "Is it about the age, Clinton? Getting old must sucks."

"What is against you and my age?" The Avenger asks as they make it to the kitchen and take a seat on the table. The food is already served with delicious full English breakfast which includes of fried eggs, sausages, back bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried bread, accompanied by coffee.

Heather shrugs. "I just love to make fun of your age. I mean, you're too old. It is something obvious."

"Haha. Get your jokes out now." Clint says with an unamused tone but there's a smile tugging at the end of his lips.

"So cranky." Verity walks into the kitchen, tying her hair into a bun and takes a seat, not forgetting to place a kiss on Clint's cheek.

"Good morning, Ver." Heather salutes with a smug which the wife of Hawkeye returns with an equal smug.

"Good morning, Barney."

The next thing they know is three kids, Cooper, Lila and Nathaniel in order, flooding into the kitchen with their laughter and happiness. The teenagers take their seats with their smiles but the small boy has other plans.

Little Nathaniel throws his small hands around Heather, hugging the life out of him. "Uncle B!"

"Natey Boo." Heather smiles and hugs the little boy before he helps him to sit on the chair beside him. He then helps the little boy with his food and goes back to his own dish. Nathaniel always adores Heather and vice versa. The little kid always manages to bring warmth to his heart and it's safe to say that Nathaniel is his favourite Barton, other than himself of course.

They eat silently as the sound of cutlery clashing fills in the air. But then again, Lila decides to cut the silence into two.

"Dad, how many days are we spending in New York?"

"We'll be there by tomorrow afternoon and come back the day after tomorrow night." Clint answers.

Heather, who is drinking his coffee looks at Clint with an raised eyebrow. "Wait! How am I not know about this?"

"Because you're not a part of it? It's a kids and dad day." Clint replies with a slight shrug.

Heather dramatically places his empty coffee mug on the table. "How dare you throw me out like that? I am the most important person of this family."

"He has a point." Verity chuckles, leaning into her chair with an amused face.

"What are you? Fifteen?" Clint asks Heather with a grim face.

"Ver! Tell your sugar daddy to take me to New York with the kids!" Heather complains to Verity with a pout.

"Dad, what's a sugar daddy?" Nathaniel asks his father with his cute little voice. A series of chuckles echoes from the teenagers and Verity. There's always this argument going on between Clint and Heather everytime Heather pulls out his never ending dirty jokes in front of the kids. But will Heather ever listen and keep his sarcastic comments to himself?

No. Never.

"I can't believe what a bad influence you are." Clint glares at Heather deadly, who raises his hands in surrender.

"Who beef in your burst? I'm trying to do my part, okay?"

"And that part includes spoiling my kids with your foul words?"

"I know that I have no filter between my brain and mouth. I'm working on it." Heather says and turns to Verity. "But your husband is an asshat."

"He's not an asshat." Verity shoots back, trying to hide her smile.

"Watch your language, okay?"

"Watch my language? I said hat." Heather points out, highlighting the word 'hat' to prove his innocence.

"Still no." Clint says, crossing his arms.

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Heather asks and sighs. But then again, he looks at Clint with a pout. "Come on, big bro. Pretty please."

Clint shakes his head slightly considering whether he should keep arguing or let it go. He decides to go with the latter knowing it is impossible to win arguments with the annoying manchild. "Fine."

"Yes!" He does a victory fist and tries to hold down his excitement in the bay, which he fails at the end with the betrayal of his grin.