Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. Samone is the only part of this that is mine
Hawkeye stood on the roof of the abandoned building. His Avengers ID was in his hand, broken for the fifth or so time. Tony was going to be so mad at him. Last time, he had threatened Hawkeye with the consequences of what would happen if he needed another one. Not that Hawkeye had paid any attention of course; he could take old metal-muscle any day, with or without the armor. What worried him most at the moment was the fact that he had fallen off a one story building when he had been asleep, and hadn't woken up until he hit the ground (with no more than a couple bruises). He was supposed to be on the "neighborhood watch", as he was so fond of calling it, but he had fallen asleep on the job. Now, should trouble turn up, he would be facing it on his own, without a means of calling in back-up.
"That's just great! Damn technology!" He exclaimed angrily. "I'm starting to agree with Thor." He slapped the useless piece of junk a couple of times for good measure.
The Avenger continued to examine the device for a means of fixing it, but he knew that his hopes were slim. He was no Tony Stark when it came to technology.
Unknown to Hawkeye, a woman observed him from an adjacent rooftop. The woman was young, with a long, slim body. Her dark hair was bound into a tight ponytail, and her black eyes took in the super-hero with a cool and calculating gaze. She wore relatively-tight, black-leather pants. Her long-sleeved t-shirt was loose and baggy, but was hidden by her combat vest. The soft-leather boots she wore allowed her to move swiftly, but silently as she went about her business. Hidden beneath her clothing were several knives of different lengths, weights, and purposes. And she knew how to use every one of them.
The archer was a curious one; the woman, called Samone, recognized him as a member of the team called the "Avengers". She had seen many things in her life, but she was particularly intrigued by this group of "heroes". With their skills, they could be whatever, do whatever they pleased; they could be the best assassins in the world. Hell, they could probably even take over a country's government and set up a dictatorship which they controled, but they chose this life of putting away super-villains who wish to harm society. It amazed her. Perhaps, if she had been raised as they had, she might not have ended up in her current predicament. She would have given anything if she only could give up her past, but there was one thing you cannot erase: your blood. She had been born into this, and now even this man, this self-proclaimed super-hero, below her would shoot her on sight.
The Avenger was preoccupied at the moment; he appeared to be toying with some sort of device, and, judging by the amount of cusswords that reached her ears, it wasn't going very well.
It was impossible to see what the man looked like; he wore a mask. Still, he looked familiar. She knew he was part of the Avengers, but she felt like she had at some point in time come into contact with this mysterious archer. Frowning, Samone tried to place him. It was highly probable that she had fought him before, or, more likely, had been sent to kill him.
Glancing back at the man, her thoughts froze. Approaching the Avenger from behind was the Grim Reaper. Samone glanced back at the super-hero, who was toying with the gadget in his hand, completely unawares. She watched the scene unfold in helpless dismay. She had no reason to care what happened to a super-hero, who had no doubt given her and her friends countless grief, but, at the same time, she was leaving that life behind her. The old Samone would have helped the Reaper, but the new one was attempting to leave all that behind. Doesn't reforming her ways demand that she at least call a warning? There was another reason for her holding back: the Grim Reaper would recognize her. He had often worked closely with her colleagues, and she had met with him to deal business on several occasions. If he saw her, then word would get out to the whole criminal community that there was a traitor.
Samone had to decide fast what course her life would take. This was a turning point for her. The Grim Reaper approached the oblivious Avenger with a smile over his twisted face. She had mere seconds before the criminal attacked his unsuspecting victim. An unexpected blow from the Reaper had the potential to dangerously harm, or even kill. Samone had seen countless victims fall to his stealth attacks- one of whom had, ironically, betrayed him. It was do or let die time.