Authors Note -
Thanks for reading The Budapest Project! Please read and reply about what you thaught of Chapter one and what you think should happen!
Actors in this scene:
Clint (Hawkeye) - Jeremy Renner
Barney Barton - Michael Rooker (tell me what you think of this in your replies!)
Chapter 1
Clint 'Hawkeye' Barton boarded the midnight bus, double checking to be sure he was not being followed. He pulled his hood around his head and shoved his bruised hands into his pockets. Wincing in pain, he attempted to breathe steadily. He ran his fingers over his ribs, almost all, incredibly tender. Tears stung Clint's eyes as he looked out the window at the rain firmly falling to the ground below.
The rain created puddles in the sidewalk, and just as Clint strove to avoid one, a small boy ran directly into him, soaking the pair as Clint grabbed the youth, rescuing his face from the cruel ground, in turn, falling onto his own bottom.
"Awwww shhh-" he started, before he realized the young by was intently staring at the hooded rescuer with his emerald-green eyes.
"Awww Stinky Pretzels!" he yelled instead. The little boy burst into a fit of giggles. Barton couldn't help but smile despite his pain and strangely growing weariness. Finally, the green-eyed boy straighted and stated as-a-matter-of-factly,
"I'm Carlton," Clint smiled and took in a sharp breath.
"Well, Im Clint," he said. As soon as the words escaped lips, Carlton took off into the fog ahead. Clint attempted to lift himself from the puddle soaking his rear. As he lifted himself, agonizing pain coarsed through him causing him to cry out in agony. He once again fell down, trying to breathe and fight off the odd oncoming need for sleep. Clint realized he was loosing consciousness. Was I drugged? He thought as he drifted off into a deep slumber.
The last thing Clint saw was the commotion of feet ahead and voices - ones he knew. In his state of mind, Barton was unable to place the voices. With one last breathe, Clint fell asleep...
Clint awoke to the sound of indistinct talking in the distance. Cautiously, he opened his heavy eyes. Directly in front of him, two doctors muttered in the corner, gesturing and glancing wearily in his direction. Noticing his wakening, the fair-haired physician raised his hands in diction to stop talking.
"Hello and how are you feeling now?" The dark haired, blue eyed doctor inquired. Clint peered down, his wounds were still undressed, indicating that he was not in a hospital, but in captivity.
"Where am I," He replied stiffly.
The doctors looked coldly at eachother.
"What?" The fair haired one asked, a sly smile on his face.
"Im not in a hospital - where the hell am I?" Clint responded now trying to sit up and grasp his bow.
The doctors nodded gingerly and flipped a switch of restraints to violently force Clint to the bed. Once down, the 'doctors' left quickly. Suddenly, the door opened and footsteps approached the foot of the bed. The very uncomfortable strap that forced his head down, made it impossible for Clint to see who was there.
"Hey 'lil brother,"
Barney.
"Looks like you got yourself into a situation. Sticky one by the looks of ya."
"Not like you didn't know," replied Clint through clenched teeth.
"Well um, Clint, you know we've been looking for ya ever since we knew you wern't dead 'r nothin'." He drew in a breath. "To give you another chance at the circus." He finished. There was another pause, followed by a creepy silence. "So whaddya say Mr. Star-Of-The-Show Clint Hawkeye Barton?"
"I'll never come back Barney," Growled Clint.
"Whoa-ho-ho," chuckled Barney, "hold on 'lil brother, 'fore you go yellin' at me like that, I think ya best take a double-take." Clint looked at his once loving and protecting brother.
"Listen together you, we could go anywhere, do anything, without those sly circus rider watching and manipulating our every move. We don't even need Ringmasters money to do it!" Clint pleaded with his brother, begging him to change. Barney looked intensely into Clints blue-grey eyes.
"No, YOU, listen to ME, NOW," he ordered, shedding his big-brother jokester face to replace with an intimidating glare, "remember that day you found the Master 'n I takin' the dough?" he asked, his voice shaking.
"How could I forget," Clint snarled.
"Hmm" Barney forced a small laugh, "well, we wasn't takin it - not yet. But you got in the way, interrupted our rehearsal. T'sall 'twas, a put-on so we could pull it off when the time was right." Barney sighed. He was lying and Clint knew it.
"Together, we was gunna be rich 'n get the hell outta there, but no, ho,ho, you had to be Mr. Good Guy. Told Mr. Ringdude we was taking the big 'G's. He was gunna make us all rich. Now that 'Hawk-Pies' gone though he aint gettin' no business, 'n I aint gettin no richer all cuz of ya. That, is why we sliced ya." Clint struggled to loosen the straps that held him to the unforgiving cot.
"Don't even try it 'lil brother," he said slapping Clint on the arm. Barney turned to the 'doctors' standing in the back of the room. "Dose him, times four."
"But sir, that intensity could wound or kill a full grown man. Your talking about an adolescent boy here." The 'doctors' protested.
"Thats exactly what I want," Barney smiled, glancing at Clint.
The last image Clint saw was the terrifying grimace of a man standing above him injecting dose one.
