Clint Barton and Francis Barton were twin brothers. One worked for SHIELD and one worked for Hydra. Their relationship wasn't natural and they were more dedicated with each other than anyone else. They would betray SHIELD or Hydra in a heartbeat if it meant saving their brother.
Clint Barton worked best with a bow, but he did enjoy the occasional throwing knife and gun. Francis Barton worked best with guns and his bare hands, but he did attempt to use a bow. Surprisingly it turned out Francis was hopeless with a bow and arrow no matter how much Clint tried to train him. Luckily for the brothers they were identical in every way; the only difference was their skills in weapons.
Now Francis is in a new team, the Avengers. Clint was worried they would betray him when a better offer can along, so he did what he did best. He watched them. He made sure they treated him right and the minute they stopped he would step in. Unfortunately, just as the new team formed a new threat came, Loki. He brain washed Francis in the worst ways imaginable, made him forget who he was, who Clint was. Clint did the only thing he could. Hit Francis around the head with a newspaper until he remembered which turned out to be a pretty good idea. Natasha made the finishing blow that made him remember and everything went smoothly. Francis was in a new team and Clint remained with Hydra. Only times have changed and Francis was slowly losing touch with Clint, slowly forgetting about him.
It broke Clint to the point he wanted to leave Hydra, find his brother, and make him remember. Make him see the truth! However, things don't turn out the way you want them to sometimes. Hydra thought he was going to spill the beans on the company, they thought he was going to tell SHIELD everything about them but Clint wasn't. He tried to convince them that he was innocent, that he didn't do anything wrong but they tortured him. They beat and whipped him, took everything away from him until he was simply a naked bloodied mess laid on the cold, hard ground in the corner of some dank, small, empty room. He was merely the shell of a man he used to be.
He had lost track of time, seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like days. The lines on the walls indicating days covered them completely. He was no longer treated like a human, he was no longer human. His wounds and scars were horrific, the experiments had changed the way he looked so much that he no longer recognised himself in the mirror. His voice was sore and bare; he couldn't utter a word without feeling like someone was tearing his oesophagus out of his body.
The world had long gone silent. The sound of others screaming in pain, begging to be released was no longer there and Clint knew why. They had sharpened poles and placed them over the fire until they were piping hot and shoved them into his ears. The results were terrible, the results were mortifying. His voice had broken from his screaming and nails were imbedded into the wooden chair he was sitting on. He was deaf. He was completely deaf not being able to hear anything around him, which turns out to be for the best.
Clint could no longer hear the screams at night, the nails scrapping against the floors in an attempt to dig their way out but the only thing that resulted in was blood. Blood and pain. Clint would often curl around himself trying desperately to keep what little body heat he had within his own body, instead of seeping into the stone cold walls.
Clint had long since given up in begging to be released, long since given up in hopes his self-centred brother was going to save him, long since given up on life. He just hoped to the gods that life would one day give up on him.
An: This was meant to be a happy story, took a turn to the dark side, oops. Hope you enjoyed the story! Please review and tell me what you think If you find any mistakes please tell me so I can fix them.