Original A/N 11/5/15 - I know, I know, I should be working on Zeus' Dice and Hollow Heroes, this just bit me really hard while those two are on temporary hiatus due to writer's block and medical issues keeping me from focusing as much as those stories require. Plus, my current Renner-kick is not being sufficiently satisfied by Hollow Heroes since Clint only becomes truly important towards the end/epilogue (at least, if it stays somewhat close to my outline, which is doubtful).

This is a huge crossover, with Avengers, SWAT, the Unusuals, Mission Impossible (4 and 5), and Bourne Legacy. Basically, all the Renner characters are brothers who got adopted to different families and scattered across the country. I'm trying to keep most of these shows/movies as close to canon as possible (personal opinion, all Renner's characters keep family and personal life close to the vest, Natasha's about the only one who even knows outside the brothers and their adoptive families). The first portion of this will cover the boys growing up, trying to keep in touch, and how their movies/shows might have been tweaked by these characters having extended family roaming around. Also, for simplicity's sake, the original last name for the boys is Kitsom, chosen because Kenneth/Aaron's the only one who actually stays in the foster system until coming of age, thus the only one who doesn't go through a last name change (y'know, until the events of his movie and all).

Warnings for mentions of child abuse and canon-typical violence and stuff. And for Brian's mouth, 'cause he curses like a sailor at times. And I'm completely making up everything about Skyland, NV, which is a real place, I just needed a small town name.

Oh, and just for clarification, Aaron/Kenneth is 9, Will's 8, Jason's 6, and Clint and Brian (twins) are 3 for the start of this. By the end they'll be 35 down to 29. I've got a rough timeline for them if anyone wants me to post that, though due to movie timelines, things get a little wibbly wobbly with the timeline, just go with it (yes, Clint's young, blame it on mashing MCU with Fraction-verse (which is beautiful, go read it!).

…So the "first part" showing them growing up and how their movies match up has run away from me and morphed into an epic, so… yeah. Started out thinking it'd be maybe ten pages max, but by the time I even got to SWAT's timeline (which is post-Bourne Legacy but pre-everything else), I was at 10K words and nearly thirty pages. These boys certainly know how to draw out a story. As of right now, there's gonna be two stories, the backstory (this one), and the main story (yet to come).

Edit 3/22/17 - I'm working on Zeus' Dice and Hollow Heroes, but medical issues, depression, and a recent car accident make me kinda cringe every time I even start to work on them. I go into cycles of "but I need to update, people are asking me to" to "it's gonna suck if it goes up and everyone will hate it" to "even if I post something, I'm just gonna get more demands for updates" to "I'm just letting everyone down, anyway, so why bother". Lather, rinse, repeat. I started writing as a method of self-therapy and relaxation, but each time I get a review that is nothing but "update!" or "is this story dead? it's been foreverrrr", a little piece of me kinda shrivels up and dies inside. I can't churn out chapters every other week like some writers, and more power to them, but it drains me now in a way that, frankly, was what I was trying to avoid or lessen by writing in the first place. New chapters are coming, I just honestly can't tell you when, especially because this story and its sequel have become the only thing I can seem to work on (seriously, this fic is actually finished, just needs to be edited and split into chapters).

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There were five of them. The Five Terrors of Skyland, as Ms. Torrez would say. The brothers spent every minute of every day figuring out their next prank for the small town and smaller orphanage. While most times, their pranks were harmless, even bringing a laugh or a smile to the worn-out women who ran the boys' home, they did have a tendency to go too far on occasion.

And unfortunately, that was why they had to be split up. No family in Skyland could take in all five of the boys, and the families that did take them in moved away soon after. Only the eldest, Kenny, was left behind, until he got sent up to an institute in Reno that was more equipped to help him get through school.

The boys all tried to keep in touch, as Jason left for New York, Will for Illinois, Brian to LA, and Clint to Iowa. That was the worst of it, when the twins found out they would be split up. It took three days to get them calmed down and agreeable, only the promise of keeping in contact through mail and phone calls reassuring them enough to let go of each other.

For two years, the boys all wrote and called one another, giving brief updates on their new families before rambling on about school and friends and, in Clint's case, new brother.

Then, Clint stopped answering the calls.

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Brian Gamble was, in simplest terms, an adrenaline-fueled daredevil. His brothers knew it, his adoptive family knew it, his best friend Jim Street definitely knew it and needled him about it every moment he could.

But Clint was the show-off in their family, and when they were eleven, Brian finally got to see him show off again.

Jim was the one to hear about Carson's Carnival of Traveling Wonders, telling Brian and spending four days convincing him to come see the show. When they arrived, half the crowd seemed to recognize Brian, confusing the hell out of him until Jim spotted the flyer for Hawkeye—World's Greatest Marksman.

"Bri, this guy looks just like you!"

"What?!" Brian spun, tearing the paper out of Jim's hands and gaping down at the purple-clad figure posing on it with a bow. "Oh my God, Clint! It's Clint!"

"Who?"

Brian blinked at his best friend, realizing that, while it was no secret that he'd been adopted by the Gambles, he'd never told anyone about his birth family. "Um, Clint's—Clint's my little brother. My twin brother."

Jim gaped at Brian. "You—? You've got a twin?"

"Uh, yeah? And three older brothers."

"Since when?!"

"Since I—well, since Clint—was born!"

Jim blinked, then rubbed at his neck, blushing slightly. "Oh, they're your—uh, your—"

"Biological brothers, yeah."

"Why aren't they—I mean, why—?"

"Why'd we get split?"

"Um, yeah."

Brian laughed. Jim took everything way too seriously sometimes, never wanting to offend anyone. He'd definitely need to teach him to look past that. "Dude, it's fine. We were from a really tiny town, and no one could really take all of us in. Just wound up working out best that way."

"But, why'd you and Clint get separated? I mean, as twins—"

"The Gambles only had room for one of us, and the Bartons already had one kid. We've kept in touch, y'know, over the years, but—I mean, we—" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Clint fell off the radar about five years ago. I guess we know why now."

It was at that moment that Jim pointed out the preteen a few yards ahead of them. "Is that him?"

Brian's eyes went wide. "Oh my God, Clint!" He took off, calling out for his brother, but the other boy just kept moving, completely ignoring Brian and ducking into a tent with a very intimidating strongman standing outside.

Jim and Brian stumbled to a halt, sheepishly grinning at the circus bouncer before backing away. Brian sighed. "I knew it. He hates me. I should've—!"

"Woah, woah," Jim cut in, waving his hands to stop the rambling. "What do you mean? He can't hate you, he's your brother!"

Brian rolled his eyes. "He told us about his foster family. They were dicks, all of 'em. Well, okay, Mrs. Barton was alright, but she couldn't stop her husband from beating them all to shit and drinking them outta their house!"

"Hey!" Jim grabbed Brian by the shoulders, forcing him to meet his eye. "He's not there any more. In fact, he seems in pretty good shape, right?"

"Y—Yeah…."

"So, you know where he is now, and I'm sure he just didn't hear you, okay? All you have to do is keep tabs on this carnival."

For a long moment, Brian was silent, glaring down at his feet. Then, he nodded. "Yeah, you're right." He glanced up at his friend. "Thanks, Jimbo."

Jim squeezed his shoulder. "No prob, Bri. Now, c'mon, let's go see if your brother lives up to his stage name!"

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That evening, still excited over finding his twin and shocked at the younger's show, Brian got ready for his weekly call with his other siblings.

The phone rang before he could even pick it up. He dove for it, answering gleefully, "You'll never guess what happened today!"

"Bri."

The preteen blinked, recognizing the tone in Will's voice. "What went wrong?"

A sigh crackled over the line. "They let Kenny enlist."

"Wh—What?!" Brian slumped against the wall. "But—But you said—"

"The recruitment officer added twelve points to his IQ score. Saw him practice shooting at the range and decided the army needed him."

Brian slid to the floor. "That's—That can't—But… I just found him," he mumbled to himself.

He could almost hear the frown Will had to be wearing. "Found who?" But of course, the teen was the most intelligent of them all and quickly connected the dots. "Clint?! You found—? Where?!"

"Carson's Carnival of Traveling Wonders. He's doing archery, of all things. And fucking good at it, too."

"Language," the admonishment was absent-minded at best. Will was thinking things through. "What happened to the Bartons?"

Brian shrugged. "No clue. But given what he'd told us?"

"Right. Mr. Barton probably got drunk and beat them or tried driving or something…. Did you get to talk to him?"

Now Brian was the one sighing. "No, couldn't get near. They keep close ranks there, wouldn't let anyone at the acts."

"Okay, so we keep an eye on the circus, and hopefully we'll get a chance to get to him."

"Yeah…." Brian bit his lip. "So… they're really sending Kenny to boot camp?"

"Yeah. But, I mean, he'd be fast-tracked into sniper school, so he should be out of the way, y'know? Up in a nest, not in the line of fire."

"Right. And he's tough. He's kept us all in touch even though we've moved so much, and if any of us could make it in the army, it'd be him… right?"

"Of course. We'll probably get calls from him over the next couple years about how boring and hot it is, just sitting around, staring through a scope."

Reassured, both said their goodbyes and hung up, knowing that their family, though spread out, would be together again one day.

Six months later, an IED took out Kenneth Kitsom's troop in Iraq, and the boys found themselves down two brothers instead of just one.

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Jason, Will, and Brian all made their way through school and began deciding what their career paths would be. They each still kept tabs on the circus, trying to see it if it was ever close enough to visit, and they all continuously checked names any time a soldier thought dead or missing was recovered. None were Kenny.

And, about three years after finding Clint, he disappeared again, Hawkeye's name and act having dropped from the circus' line-up.

Will and Brian were determined to find him again, both choosing law enforcement as a major (double major, in Will's case, with a couple minors—college had a lot of interesting options for someone with an eidetic memory), and Jason encouraged them to do so, even as he got scouted for a baseball team. Brian ribbed him constantly for "trying to prove he had Clint's aim".

While Jason was in the minors just a year later, Will was getting recruited by the CIA as an analyst, which he proudly declared gave him more resources to work on finding Clint.

Meanwhile, Brian joined the LAPD after he and Jim returned from their stint as SEALs, and both quickly decided to try for SWAT. A few months into their promotion, Brian was approached by a balding man in a suit. Either Will sent a CIA buddy to spy on him, or Brian had gotten sued by one of the perps he'd shot.

"Mr. Gamble?"

Brian rolled his eyes. Definitely getting sued. "Look, whatever they say I did, it was the best choice at the time and LAPD backs my field calls."

The man's lips quirked, not quite a smile, but definitely amused. "I'm not here with a subpoena, Mr. Gamble. I'd like to speak to you about the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Department."

Gamble grimaced. "God, they make you say that all the time? You've gotta fuckin' shorten that."

"We're working on it."

When Brian realized the man wasn't saying anything else, he huffed. "So, what does the Strategic Home-whatever want with someone in SWAT?"

"We'd like you to part-time with us as an undercover agent."

Brian blinked. "A… what?"

"We've seen your track record, both with SWAT and the SEALs, and we'd like to have someone with your skill set."

The officer folded his arms over his chest. "SEAL records aren't available to the public."

The man smirked. "We aren't the public." He handed over a card. "Think about the offer."

As quickly as he'd come, the man disappeared. Brian glanced down at the card, reading, "Assistant Director Phillip J. Coulson, Handler, Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Department." Brian shook his head with a chuckle. "Should just shorten it to SHIELD…."

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"Wait, back up to the part about getting scouted by a government agency?" Jason was, admittedly, understandably confused.

"Yeah, I don't get it, either," Brian grumbled, twirling the card between his fingers. "Guy was unintimidating as hell, but for some reason, my instincts were sparking like he could fuckin' kill me with a paperclip."

"That's because he could," Will stated. "Coulson's practically a legend around I—here."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Dude, seriously, just tell us what this new group is you're working for, it's not gonna matter that much."

"It's against the NDAs I signed."

"Bullshit," Jason shot back, "you just wanna be all mysterious and shit."

"Language," the eldest of the three admonished.

Brian chuckled, then sighed. "I don't wanna give up SWAT, guys. My whole life's here. My job, my friends, my—"

"Jim," both teased.

He huffed. "Jim's a friend, you jackasses, that's it."

"Yeah, 'cause everyone follows their friends into the SEALs and SWAT," Jason snarked.

"What's a little life-or-death among friends?"

"You guys suck."

"Technically, I think you probably do, little brother."

"I'm hanging up."

"Wait," Will cut in. "In all seriousness, give it a shot. He only offered part-time, right? Plus, it doesn't hurt to have a back-up in case something with SWAT falls through."

"…I'll think about it."

Two days later, he was signing a contract and shaking Coulson's hand.

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"Okay, ya lost me, who's this Black Widow person?"

Coulson rolled his eyes. "If you'd read your spec files for once, you'd know."

Brian waved a hand dismissively. "We've had a lotta calls this week. Y'know I get distracted when there's SWAT ops going on."

"And Captain Fuller just okayed your request for one month's leave, given you have so many extra vacation days saved up."

"What?!" Brian's feet dropped from their spot on Coulson's desk, and his chair tipped back onto all four legs. "That dick! He just wants me outta his way so he can fuck up our ops!"

"Gamble."

"He always hated me. He tried denying my transfer to SWAT, can you believe that?!"

"Gamble."

"And he keeps dragging Jim into it, threatening to fire us both for something he's mad at me about!"

"Gamble."

Brian flinched. "W—What?"

"The leave is for you to go after the Black Widow. You are to neutralize her by any means necessary."

"Yeah, okay, easy snipe job. Why's it falling to me, then?"

"Because she's an assassin trained by the Red Room."

Brian blinked at Phil. "…Uh, sorry, the what now?"

Coulson's eyes closed for a moment, the handler obviously trying to refrain from sighing or rolling his eyes. "Call Will. He'll explain. Wheels up in thirty."

Once the man left, Brian shrugged and dialed up his older brother.

Who was not happy. "Not the best time, Bri." There was muffled noise in the background, and Will was breathing odd.

"Well, hello to you, too, William."

"Get to the point, Brian."

"Whaddaya know about a place called the Red Room?"

There was a hitch in Will's breathing, then a yelp and loud crackling over the phone. Brian pulled it away from his ear, staring blankly at it before bringing it back, hearing faint cursing in the background. "How—How'd you hear that—? Dammit!"

Two loud cracks went off.

Brian blinked. "Did—Did I call you during a shootout?!"

"Focus, Brian! How'd you hear about—" Another round of gunfire went off, then Will was back. "—about the Red Room?"

"I'm s'posed to go after someone called the Black Widow."

"You're…? Shit!" There was a long moment where Will wasn't talking at all, and a machine gun went off. Brian was just about to freak out, but Will came back. "I'm gonna kill your handler."

"It's not that big a problem, dude, just a simple snipe."

"She's an international assassin for hire with an impeccable record. If she takes a job, she finishes it. The only person anywhere near her league is a sniper she sometimes works with."

"…Okay, not so simple…?"

"Brian, you see her, you take her out. Do not wait, do not let her see you. If you do, she'll kill you before you can get a shot off."

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As much as Will may not think so, Brian actually did follow his advice. He found the perfect nest, up high and well hidden, and he had Coulson's voice in his ear telling him when his target was on the move and coming into his range. Sure enough, moments after Coulson's warning, a gorgeous redhead was in the middle of his scope.

Then she turned and looked straight at him. Brian tensed, finger on the trigger, waiting for some sign as to whether she was actually looking at him or just checking her surroundings.

She lifted a hand to her face, thumb by her nose and her index and middle fingers straight up before she curled them down, and flicked her index finger beside her eye.

Brian blinked, readjusting his scope, and frowning a bit.

She repeated the sign, then turned and walked off.

"Gamble, what the hell's keeping you?!" Coulson hissed at him.

"Makin' a different call, sir," he replied, putting down his rifle and shutting off his comm before heading down, mind reeling.

He'd taken a course in ASL, mostly for laughs and to be able to insult people (Fuller) without them knowing. He recognized that sign.

Hawkeye

Brian had just hit street level when he was grabbed around the neck and pulled back into an alley. He kept quiet, given there was a knife at his neck and a taser hovering around his upper thigh.

"You are not him," a faintly-accented voice hissed in his ear.

"No, but I'm looking for him."

The knife drew a little blood as she flicked the taser to life. "Why? I will not turn on him, and he'd rather die than be put in jail."

Brian felt nauseous at the thought. "I don't wanna throw him in jail!" he hissed back. "I wanna—I just wanna make sure he's okay…."

There was a moment's pause, then she spun him around and pushed him against the wall, knife and taser staying in their places. Green, narrowed eyes glared at him. "Why are you so concerned?"

"He's my brother."

The knife dug a little deeper. "You are Barney?" she snarled.

"Hell no! Barney's a fuckin' bastard for lettin' Clint get beat all to shit growing up!" Brian closed his eyes, trying to calm down and refocus. "No, Clint's—Clint was adopted by the Bartons, we were split up from our brothers and each other when we were four. My name's Brian."

"Brian?" The weapons loosened. "He spoke of you."

"Can't say the same." Brian huffed a sigh. "I've been looking for him for sixteen years, since he stopped calling. Saw him at the circus, but I couldn't get back to speak with him. We all followed the circus as much as we could, 'til his name fell from the headlines."

"Barney stabbed him and left him for dead when he wouldn't aid their thieving."

"What?!" Brian nearly ran straight into the knife, instinctively jerking forward to go after Barney. "That jackass! I'll kill him!"

She shook her head. "Barney's gone. In the wind. Has been for years."

"Dammit." His brow furrowed. "Wait, how do you know Clint?"

"I helped him, after he escaped the hospital."

"After he—? Wait, helped him? With what?"

She gave him an unimpressed look.

"…Oh. Wait, he's the sniper you work with sometimes?!"

"Still goes by Hawkeye, and leaves an arrow in the eye of every kill."

Brian leaned back into the wall, eyes wide, head tipped back. "Holy shit, my baby brother's a merc."

"A very good one."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Shit. God, Will's gonna kill me for this, he'll find some way to blame this on me."

"You had nothing to do with his success."

"You don't know Will."

She tilted her head slightly, ceding the point. "What now?"

"Well, Coulson's gonna also kill me for tossing my comm. But if you come in with me, it might help soften the betrayal?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Come where?"

"SHIELD. Er, Strategic Homeland—"

"I understood the acronym. I've heard of them. Glad they finally have a shorter name."

"Oh, they don't, officially. I just use that. I'm wearing Coulson down about it, though."

She pursed her lips. "Coulson?"

"My CO. Director's one good eye." At her raised eyebrow, he shrugged. "You'll get it when you meet the Director. And trust me, he'll wanna meet you himself."

"You were serious? About bringing me in to your secret agency?"

"Of course." He locked eyes with her. "SHIELD's different, y'know? They'll appreciate your skillset, you won't only have to work wetworks, and you'll have every single piece of information about each op. You'll know who we're after, what info we need, why we're locking it down. You'll have backup, a handler, and an extraction plan, every time."

"And in return, you wish my help in finding your brother?"

Brian stared for a moment, then sighed. "Yeah. I wanna bring him in, too. SHIELD's good people, I mean, not all of 'em, 'cause some of 'em are dicks, but… Coulson'd be good for him. I—I hope I'd be good for him, that we—my brothers and I—could help him, but… I just want him safe and happy."

There was a long, silent moment, where they just stared at each other. Then she tucked away her knife and taser. "Natasha Romanov. If you are serious about your job offer, it's best you know my name, no?"

Brian grinned at her. "Brian Gamble. Let's go freak my handler out."

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A/N: Sorry about the ranting earlier. This story's been a labor of love for the past year and a half while I've dealt with recovery from a surgery, unexplained pain for a straight year, and now concussion and whiplash from my recent car accident. You'll likely see more of this than Zeus' Dice or Hollow Heroes because, frankly, it's less draining on me right now and this muse is biting more than either of those. I plan to work more on my older stories, just know that my current issues and mental health are kinda causing some writer's block for me.

Read and review, please.