The parlour rang with a cacophony of noise, mostly chatter of what had happened. No one showed them any respect. She wanted it all to stop- it was too much. She was stuck in a vortex of emotions; most happy, a hint of anger, and a sliver of sadness. No one cared about them. All they wanted was to know was the contents of the will. She seemed to be the only one who who cared, who truly loved them. Neither the money or the estates meant nothing to her. Majalia just wanted to spend another day with them.

As the evening progressed, her stomach began to turn. Majalia would never see their smiling faces again, hear their banter, or watch them work on new projects. The fact had finally hit her. Not even the mark offered her any comfort. Tears forced their way down her cheeks, her air restricted by the lump in her throat. She needed to get away and without much more thinking, Majalia raced out the door. No one would notice or care if she were gone. To them, she was the one thing that kept them from the wealth her parents had. No, she was better off away from them.

Once outside, Majalia took a deep breath and attempted to compose herself. The moment she had, the teenager took off. She absentmindedly wandered through the city she called home, deep in thought. She paid no attention to the slowly emptying streets. She was alone, but the solitude was better than being suffocated by her supposed family.

When Majalia finally began to pay attention, she found herself in the warehouse district and utterly lost. As she tried to find her way back, Majalia heard footsteps behind her. She refused to look back, but quickened her pace; the person did so as well. It wasn't until she realised she as entering an alley did she begin to panic. Majalia broke into a run, moving so fast that she didn't register the man in front of her. When she bumped into him, Majalia was glad there was a potential ally, even if her instincts were telling her to keep running.

"Can you help me? There's someone following me."

"I would, sweetheart, but here's the thing. He works for me."

Majalia's heart dropped as she backed away from him. Her breaths came out erratically, eyes wide as she stared at him. Her retreat was cut short when she hit another body. She scrambled to the side and tried to put some distance between herself and the men. The man she spoke to watched her, an easy smile on his lips that caused her mouth to go dry. "Aww, don't be like that, sweeth'art. We aren't gunna hurt'cha."

Even in fear, Majalia couldn't keep her mouth shut. "I'm sure you say that to everyone." Internally she berated herself. Why couldn't she just be quiet? Why did she always have a response.

"Just pretty lit'le things like you. Really," he held up his hands as if to placate her. The action did the exact opposite. "Just want you to hand over your money."

"I don't have any."

He studied her for a moment before he heaved an exasperated sigh. It was obvious he didn't believe her. She was dressed up, it was nothing special, but she looked like she had something. Especially in the dress her aunt had forced her into. "Gimme the necklace."

Her hands instantly flew to it. The chain was silver, attached to it was a locket her father had made, black and turquoise, and held a photo of her parents. They'd gifted it to her on her ninth birthday, and now, it was one of the few things she had of them. "I can't."

"Sure you can. Jus' take it off an' hand it over. Simple."

"I'm not giving it to you." His eye ticked as she took another step back.

"That so?" He pulled out a gun and nodded at his friend. A quick glance showed he'd retrieved his as well. Both were pointed at her. "I think ya'are."

Majalia stared at him for a moment. She'd lost the only people who'd ever care about her. What more was there for her to lose but her life? At least then she'd be with her parents. Steeling herself, Majalia hoped it would be quick. "I'm not afraid of you. So, if you're going to shoot me, then do it."

The man laughed, a full belly laugh that made her skin crawl. "You got guts, sweeth'art."

"I'd call it stupidity," said a voice from behind him. Majalia's head whipped to the newcomer, surprised that the man's friend had said nothing.

The main guy hastily whipped around, his gun now aimed at the newcomer. "An' who da hell are you?"

"I'll say this once so listen up. Take the gun off the girl and I won't do too much damage."

"Think you can get close e'nuff wit'out gettin' shot?"

"Pretty much," the newcomer lazily replied. "You going to move the gun?"

Majalia watched the two, her main captor's grip on their firearms tightening and the other man's relaxed stance. It was odd, almost as if he were used to staring down the barrel of a gun. "Piss off."

The man sighed. "Hard way it is." With that, he reached for the main assailant. Within minutes the larger man laid in a crumpled heap. His accomplice stared wide eyed before he took off out of the alley. Majalia's saviour glanced at her as he straightened out his shirt. "You were supposed to run."

She shrugged. "Guess I'm dumber than you thought."

"Maybe. What are you doing in these parts anyways?"

"Got lost." Majalia shook her head. She should have paid attention. She wouldn't have have ended up on this situation if she had Then again, maybe she would have. Fate seemed to like messing with her.

"Where are you staying?"

Majalia observed him for a moment. He didn't seem like a bad guy and there was nothing telling her she couldn't trust him to at least get her back to the hotel. Besides, he had just saved her life. "I'm at the Grand." He humphed and began to walk off. "What? Something wrong with that?"

"Nope. Let's get you to your folks," kid."

"They're dead," she muttered. The man didn't seem to hear her though. Before he left the alley, Majalia followed after him, feeling as much of a lost puppy she was. They walked in silence for a few minutes before she gathered her courage to speak again. "So, uh, what's your name?"

"Why do you want to know?"

She shrugged. "Don't know. Want to thank you. Isn't that how those books go?"

He snorted, actually snorted! Majalia glared at him but remained silent. "Don't know what books you're reading, but it's Clint." She nodded and the two continued the walk in silence.

When they reached the hotel, Majalia saw her uncle standing by the door, his signature glower plastered on his face. The moment his eyes landed on her, the older man began to rant and rave about her childishness and bringing strangers to a family affair. Majalia tensed but said nothing. Her only move was to grab onto Clint's jacket clad arm as she was dragged inside.

The rest of her family, if they could be called that, were just as displeased by the blonde man's presence. When questioned, Majalia stated that he was a friend of her father's. It was plausible enough as he made friends with all types of people. Luckily, she was saved from more questions when her parents' lawyer ushered them into a private room. As her parents' wills were read, her relatives grew more and more restless. In the end, her parents knew exactly what type of people they were and left them nothing. Her uncle was furious, the loudest and meanest of the group. Eventually though, the lawyer managed to get them all to leave.

"I don't envy you," the portly man stated as he walked back over to his desk. He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose before he returned them to his face. "Do you know what you'll do now?"

The teenager shrugged. What could she really do? Her family now had more reason to hate her. She was alone. There were things she still wanted to do, but she had no real motivation to do anything since that day. "I want to finish school. I know that much. It's what mom and dad would want."

"And living arrangements?" I know you're nearly an adult, but I'd feel better if you stayed with someone."

"There's no one," Majalia huffed out, pulling on one of her coils. "You saw them. None of them would take me in, and if one of those vultures did, I'd never be taken care of. Rasputin would probably have a convenient accident occur."

The man nodded before he brought his gaze to Clint. He'd been silent the entire time, seemingly in a world of his own. He felt bad for the kid, but he couldn't help but wonder why he was there… or still there… or why the old man was staring at him. "Majalia said you were a family friend, correct?"

Clint flickered his gaze to the girl, taking in her near pleading expression. He knew he was going to regret this. "Yeah."

"Would you have any qualms about housing her, until her graduation, of course."

"Can't say no, can I?" Majalia held her breath at his words. She didn't want to put him in this situation. She had just hoped he'd be a good buffer, someone who would keep her family from being too aggressive. It had worked, to an extent. But she realised she hadn't thought the situation through.

"Well of-"

"No, I can't. Like Maj said, vultures. She'd be out of a home the minute they get their hands on her inheritance. Kid would be better off on her own."

"She's a minor, Mr…"

"I'll look after her," Clint stated. Majalia noticed how he didn't give Porter his name and couldn't help but wonder why. She wasn't going to say a thing. Especially if Clint was willing to take her in, something she was grateful for. "Not the first time I've brought home a stray."

"If she's too much of a burden, I can have her placed somewhere else."

Clint shrugged his words off. "Nah, I got her." He then turned to Majalia. "Have anything we need to pick up?" She nodded, not sure she could trust her voice. She gently rubbed the mark inside her wrist as she tried to swallow the lump that had once again caught in her throat. "All right. Don't bring everything. My place is small." Clint paused, as if thinking of something to add. "Hope you like dogs." With that, Majalia found herself a home… a family with Clint Barton, a man who would soon be one of her closest confidants.