Shot to the heart (Hawkeye)

by Cakeydaftone

What would happen if Clint had a grievance against SHEILD?

Shot To The Heart (Hawkeye fan fiction)

By

Cakeydaftone

A short story here about the much overlooked hero Hawkeye,

and poses the question what would happen if Clint had a grievance

against SHEILD?

!Caution strong bad language!

Clint marches into the room pointing his bow towards

Fury who was standing near the window. He looks to the

left; there was Steve in a smart suit. To his right was

Tony just as smart in a matching three piece. They were off

duty, of sorts, and had been having a meeting about the

mess that had forced Clint to this course of drastic

action. He had slipped into the Avengers headquarters which

was no easy task when everyone was on the lookout for him,

and his heart burnt with angry and rage that wasn't making

him think straight. Still, he knew this was the right thing

to do so here he was in his battle amour, this time

fighting for his own cause.

"Coward, killer!" Clint snarls his words and

freezes in front of Fury. Steve and Tony start to move

forward to ambush him. Clint pushes the arrow head against

Fury's chest forcing him against the glass.

"Don't even think about it! Or I will explode his

skull all over the fucking glass!" Fury looks sideways to

the massive skyscraper window behind him and the small dots

of people and traffic on the sidewalk below.

"I advise you do as he says." Fury nervously states.

Steve and Tony withdraw and stand as helpless bystanders

feeling suddenly very helpless and all too human.

"You killed them!" Clint says, his face contorting

into a bitter expression.

"No, I couldn't help what happened to

Laura"

"You called the attack on the building!"

Fury looks towards the ground again and remembers the night

he had to make the call to Clint that his family were dead.

"Thousands of people could of been killed I made a

decision, the only one I could of made."

"She was everything to me! You destroyed my life." He

pulls back on the bow. Fury feels the sharp arrow head

press into his flesh.

"Don't do it, you're better than this." Steve urges.

"He's right; this won't bring her back, or your

children." Tony adds.

"Shut up!...I'm not taking advice about family from

you! What point is there in any of this when we can't

protect the ones we love?" Clint's finger pulls back

tighter on the trigger, a tear rolls down his cheek. "Might

as well end it all."

Tony moves forward. "I can't let you do this." He says

before Clint turns his bow towards him.

"Step back." Orders Clint with an intense look on his

face. The men stop yards away from him.

"What about the Avengers ? All we have built together?

Are you going to throw that all away" Asks Fury.

"Do you really think I care now? My world has ended,

why should anyone else have a chance!" He pulls back on the

trigger again. The arrow flies through the air and pierces

Fury in the arm. He lets out a scream of pain.

Steve moves in and punches Clint towards the ground. "Stay down." He

says leaning over him.

Boom! The room shakes and the air is suddenly filled

with dust and the sound of the structure of the building

groaning. The men watch on as the massive window in front

of them shatters into sharp fragments that scatter a

hundred feet below them.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Steve shouts as one side of the

building starts to crumble and lower. Tony, Steve and

Fury slip down toward the gaping hole in the side of

the building where the glass use to be.

"Arrg!" Cries Fury as he catches hold of a piece

of twisted metal work sticking out from the side of

the building. The blood starts to pour from his

injured arm, splashing onto the sandstone

brickwork and sending it a pink tone. Tony and Steve

slip towards him.

"No, please no!" Protests Tony as the masonry holding him

gives away. He slips along the shiny floor towards Fury.

Tony catches hold of a cable that is hanging out of the

window.

"A bad time to hang your suit up for maintenance." Jokes

Fury.

"Bad line, no friends." Tony smartly replies.

Steve looks above him to Clint who is holding on to the

edge of a wall. "BARTON!..." Shouts Steve. "...Please, you

have to help us!"

"You can't leave us like this!" Tony adds trying to get

better footing on the loose masonry.

"No... I don't..." He finds his footing "...but

I chose to." And without a second glance climbs up to

another section of the building, a corridor.

(#)

Clint pauses wondering which way is up and which

is down, everything in the building was a tangled mess

of brick and concrete. He lowers himself down to the

floor near a stairwell. He rests against the wall and

hears the sound of people shouting and screaming that

seem to emanate from all directions. He thinks about his

friends Steve and Tony back in the room pleading for him

to save them from certain death. He thinks about Laura,

what she may have thought in her last few seconds and how

scared she must have been.

"DAM IT" He shouts the noise echoing around the walls-

or what is left of them. He gets to his feet and is

about to re-enter the room the others are haphazardly

negotiating, but before he can a figure appears in the

corridor-a man. Clint knows by experience this is no

good thing. The man dressed in black combats and a gas

mask walks closer to him.

"Clint Barton?"

"Yeah what of it?" He replies.

"I'm here for you." The man says producing a gun

from his bullet proof vest.

Clint begins to laugh. "No your really not." He

punches the stranger on the chin. The man hits the ground.

Two other figures, men also in combat gear appear to either

side of Clint. Another in black combats that enters the

fight has a female form and a fighting style he had seen

many times before.

"Look, just leave me alone!" Clint growls as he

poises to confront another attacker.

"Stop!" A female voice says.

Clint instantly freezes. "I know that voice." He

says to himself bemused.

The woman pulls of her mask to reveal pretty

features and dark red hair. "Good to see you again

Barton."

Clint looks with astonishment towards Natasha. A

man on the ground gets to his feet and reaches into a

pocket on his vest and brings out a small handgun and

fires it towards Clint.

"Bastard!" Clint mangers to utter before collapsing to the ground.

(#)

Clint looks around the room with half closed

eyes. He looks to his arms and sees chains attached to

them connected to the wall. His right arm bears a red

mark where the dart was fired.

"It can't be..." Clint thinks to himself. "...not enough fucking dank

dungeon." How he hated this shit. It wouldn't be too

bad if the team where here. He thinks for a few

seconds " Oh right, I remember I left them for

dead...that kind of puts a dampener on things"

The grated door opens and Natasha stands in front

of him smiling with her head slightly tilted to one

side and her arms folded.

"Natasha?" Clint asks in a perplexed voice.

"You were knocked out for longer than I thought."

"Where have you been? We thought you were dead,

it's been months, we thought you had disappeared."

Clint exclaims.

"That's what I wanted you and SHIELD to believe.

I went into hiding..." She points to a darkened corner

of the room. "...Valentina helped me." Natasha steps

back and the figure capped in a long black gown behind

her steps forward.

"I've heard a lot about you Mr Barton." The woman

says in a deep Russian accent. She pulls down her hood

to reveal long jet black hair and a beautiful face

with deep red lips and blushed cheeks.

"I can't say the same, who the hell are you?"

The woman looks back to Natasha. "Will you leave

us a while Nat?"

"Yes, of course." Natasha gives a sheepish glance

towards Clint then leaves by the door.

"I'm Valentina.

"Any chance of getting me out of these things

Miss?" He pulls at the restraints, his muscles flexing

to be free.

"Not at the moment, I'm not sure if you would do

anything rash."

"Like what? Kill you?" He laughs to himself.

"Indeed." The woman's dark brown eyes light up

with excitement.

"Why I'm I here?" He asks.

"I've been watching you for a while."

"That's strange because I've never laid eyes on

you before, or heard of you."

"From afar, admiring..." She walks closer to him.

"...you have skill that goes beyond anything I have

seen before."

"You have seen my team mate's right?" Is his quick reply.

"Yes, but unlike them you don't rely on high-tect suits and

we can't all be gods or frozen has-beens."

Clint sighs, shrugs and looks to the side feeling

flattered, and far too confident about himself. "Guess

not."

"I heard about your family."

"What is it to you, you dare bring them into

this?" He harshly retorts.

"Everything. See SHIELD will never measure the

personal cost, look how they treated you."

"So you bring me here to insight some kind of

feud between us."

She stands to the side of him. She stares at his

arms that pull against the chains once more. Beads of

sweat run along the length his arms and hands then

drip off his fingertips.

"No." She simply replies. She walks away from him

towards the metal grated door."GUARDS!" She shouts. A

squared jawed man appears, unlocks the door and steps

inside.

"Release him from his bonds." She orders. The

guard walks over to Clint produces a key and starts to

unlock his cuffs. Clink! The sound of the right cuff

as it drops to the floor. The guard unlocks the other

cuff. Clint grabs hold of the guard's collar. The

guard punches Clint's side, he flinches back from the

blow. The guard moves in again. Clint kicks the

guard's legs from underneath him. The guard drops to

the floor and lies motionless.

Valentina suddenly starts clapping and says.

"Bravo!"

Clint stares at her in disbelief. The guard

regains consciousness and gets to his feet.

"I traveled around the world to watch you fight

in the flesh."

"What do you want with me?"

"Leave us." She says looking towards the guard.

Ashamed by his efforts the guard hurries out and

closes the door behind him.

"You're crazy?" Clint responds.

"No, just a devoted fan, and now I want you to

accompany me to a room you may find interesting." She

whips her cape away from her shoulder.

"What room? I'm not going anywhere expect the

exit."

"Such a small request don't you think?"

"I won't." Clint replies, his brow furrowing.

"Then you will never make it out alive...remember

I have your bow."

"I will try." He walks up to her in threat.

"And harm a woman?" He stops. "You could never

bring yourself to really hurt her..." He stares at her

in anger and knows who she means. "...I've seen you

pulling your punches."

"Ok, so you know some background information on

me that means nothing. Show me this room then, but don't kid

yourself into thinking I won't kill you when I get the chance."

She smiles although her eyes stay unmoved, worried at

the possible threat, had she got Barton all wrong?

(#)

Clint had kept his eyes open as she led him along

the corridors to the room. He studied for means of

escape, but couldn't see any possible ways he could

make his way out of the castle alive.

She walks into the plush looking room pulling at

Clint's cuffed hands, leading him like a dog. The

walls were adorned with plush looking flocked

wallpaper, tapestries and old renaissance oil

paintings. The furnishings were heavy oak and gilded.

Cabinets surround the walls, filled with ceramics,

bronze figures and priceless jewels. The room was

domineered by a huge four poster bed in the centre of

the room. Clint raises an eyebrow as to the thought

why Valentina had brought him here.

"Do you like my room?" She asks smiling and un-

cuffing his hands.

Clint tries to smiles as he rubs his chafed wrists, he

doesn't know why he should but felt it was the right

response. "I guess..." He looks around the room again.

"...I do wonder why I'm here though."

"Because a man like you shouldn't be in a dirty

cell, you deserve better."

"What have you done to Natasha?" Asks Clint

suddenly fearful that his friend was in danger.

"Why, what do you think I have done?"

"You have warped her mind, this isn't like her."

"Natasha is a trained assassin or had you forgot?"

"She has turned her back on the team; you have

played mind games with her."

She walks over to where Clint is standing and

looks deep into his blue eyes. "You were ready to kill Fury

only yesterday, who are you to judge?"

Clint loses himself in her eyes a brief moment

then looks away and steps aside. "Wouldn't you?..." He

moves over to a table and notices a snow globe upon it.

"...He was responsible for my wife and children's deaths."

He grabs hold of the snow globe and tilts it, peering inside

and thinking of Christmas holidays with his lost family.

"You're a collector then?"

"Only of beautiful objects." She casts a flirtatious smile

towards him. Clint looks away in embarrassment.

"I'm a nobody..." He walks across to another

shelve containing unusual trinkets "...why aren't you

talking to Steve?" He feels anger bubble up within him

again. "He's a real specimen..." He turns to look at her

"Or a freak depending on which way you look at it."

"I guess I look at it from your perspective..."

She moves over to where he is standing. "I don't want a

muscle bound experiment without any real skill in my

collection."

Clint smirks. "Is that it? You want me to be in your

collection?"

She nods slowly then smiles.

"I don't think I will fit in that little glass case of

yours." He points to a cabinet against the wall."

"Very funny Mr Barton or can I call you Clint?"

Clint casts a weary look towards her.

"I have a very special place for you."

"Here? In this room?! Because I can't stand the décor."

"Follow me." She points her finger towards the wall and

Clint looks at it puzzled. She pushes the wall and a whole

section of the wall slides to the side. "Come." She beckons.

When Clint steps inside he finds himself in a living room

of sorts with a simple bed structure in one corner of the

room. The other side of the room is dominated by a large glass

window from which he could see a corridor on the other side of the

glass.

"How do you find it?" She asks.

"I've got to stay in here?"

"As my latest exhibit..." she out stretchers her arms in a

theatrical gesture. "...The Archer"

"Go to hell!" Clint marches over towards the door. Two

guards appear inside the opening brandishing batons. Clint

punches first and catches one of the guards on the chin. He

reacts by giving a hard blow with the baton to Clint's chest. He

drops to his knees clutching his chest in pain, he coughs and

spits out blood onto the white titled floor.

Valentina rushes to be beside Clint, pushing by the men. "I

hope you haven't hurt him." She asks in annoyance.

"He will be fine..." The guard nudges Clint with his boot.

"...Just let him rest."

She Gives Clint a worried and concerned expression then

gestures to the men to leave. The door closes leaving Clint

locked inside. He splutters and pulls himself to his feet. He

bangs on the wall and mutters to himself for being a fool for

a few minutes then collapses.

#

Visitors of Val's would stop by the window and stare and

in the first few days being cooped up in his prison Clint

would rush to the window swearing and hitting his fists

on the glass, but it didn't archive anything other than bruised and bloodied

knuckles. So now he was wiser and in a part broken so he just

watched them with contempt, occasionally letting out an F bomb

when the mood took him. She made him comfortable in a manner of

speaking; she made sure he got plenty of exercise sparing with

the guards. Mostly Clint would fight them, but there were times

when he hadn't got the will to fight back. The guards would

then goad him into action by taunting him and kicking his legs

until he rose to his feet. On most days the guards left the

room dragging one of their buddies with them. While he was

caught up in the fight Clint would try to glance towards the

glass and on occasions could see his jailer standing in the

shadows silently watching him. It creep him out, what was

the meaning of this, surly no one could be that screw up in the

head that they wanted a live exhibit?

The few weeks that he had been held captive gave Clint

chance to think and the same questions entered his head. Why did

he start working for SHIELD in the first place? Why didn't he

just retire when his first child was born? It was on one of his

sessions of self thought when he noticed a presence on the other

side of the glass screen. Natasha, she looks sorrowfully towards

him, like he was a dying patient and her the visitor.

"I'm sorry."

"I bet you are." Clint replies moving over towards the

glass.

"I had no idea she was going to do that to you..." She

shakes her head. "...She said she just wanted to talk to you."

"But you knew she was mad, right?"

"Yes, kind of...it's hard to figure out a mad genius from

just a crazy person these days..." She gives a slight smile.

"...just ask Tony."

"Help me, help me to get away from this place."

"I can't, it's not as simple as that."

"So you will leave me here to rot?"

"Of course not, I just can't grab some keys and run off

Clint." She turns around, pull her hair to the side and points

to the back of her neck. "I have a device..." She turns around

to face him again. "...If I leave she will activate it and it

will release a lethal dose of poison into my body." She places

her hands on the glass. "You see Clint we are both prisoners."

"There must be a way?" He asks his brow furrowed in sorrow.

"Yes, kill her and I will be released..." She cast a weak

smile again. "...Sounds simple doesn't it?"

"We will find a way, we have to."

"This isn't a mission Clint. We have no back-up, no SHIELD."

"We don't need SHIELD!"

"Yes we do." Her voice is weak with fear. Natasha's eyes well-up

with tears. "I can't, I can't go back to killing."

"What? Killing who?" Clint asks.

"I'm a weapon; this is what is meant for me..." She bursts

into tears. "...And I can't do it." She runs out of view.

"NAT! Nat!" He shouts the sound echoing around his concrete

prison.

Clint must have fallen asleep because when he awoke he found

a tray of food that had been placed in his cell; chicken, boiled

potatoes and a simple salad where underneath a metal cover he

pickd up. He stared at the food a while then decided he wasn't

hungry for it. He heard footsteps and he hoped it may have been

Natasha again, instead it was Valentina standing to view him

with her arms folded.

"How is my warrior? Hungry I imagine." She says greatly

satisfied with herself.

"Go fuck yourself." He answers from where he is sitting on

the floor. It had been a few days since he had sworn and it

felt good to release some tension.

She smiles then reaches down on the floor for something.

After a few seconds she rises with an object in her hands.

Clint's eye's flash towards her, for she was grasping his

beloved bow in her right hand.

"Here..." She holds the bow out in front of her "...I

thought you may be missing this." She moves a little closer

so he can study it through the glass.

"You want me to fight?" He asks imagining touching the

handle.

"Yes, but not with this, this is merely for staging. Where

would Hawkeye be without his bow? The public want to see

spectacle and you will give that to them."

He looks to the bow then to her. What was going on here?

Was his only thought, could he still be asleep? She pouts her

red lips towards him. "Yeah, must be a dream." He says

underneath his breath.

Suddenly the door on his cell opens and two guards tapping

batons into their palms walk into the room.

"It's you lucky day, Archer man." One of the guards says in

a coarse sarcastic tone.

Clint didn't ask any questions, he just followed the guard's

instructions. They lead him into the trinket room again. The

woman was waiting for them still with that wicked smile Clint

wished he could punch off. The guards cuffed his hands together

and left the room swiftly.

She moves over to the circular table that had the snow globe on it before.

The globe now gone replaced with his bow. She picks the bow up and walks over to

where Clint is standing and holds it out in front of him.

"Take it." She instructs.

He looks to door behind him then holds the bow in his hand

like he had hundreds of times before.

"Feels good doesn't it?" She asks smiling.

Clint gives a forced smile back and poses with the bow. "Not

as nearer as good as taken down every last one of you."

The woman withdrawals her smile. "You wouldn't get very

far."

"I would try my luck..." He mock aims towards her, a perfect

shot if he had his arrows. "...I'm pretty lucky with this

thing."

" And what of your friend?"

Clint's smiles fade as he realises she is right, he couldn't

leave, not without Natasha.

"I own you..." She moves close to his ear and whispers.

"...I've always wanted to own you and now I do." She moves back

and studies his features. She lifts her index finger and traces

the outline of his lips. "And you will fight for me and you will

give it your heart and soul or I will kill little Natasha

without a second thought. Do I make myself clear?" She moves

back to hear his reply.

"What if I kill you?"

She laughs at his suggestion. "Then you kill her..." She

raises her left palm. "...the switch is underneath my skin, just

one touch and bye, bye."

He knew swearing and cheap threats were useless now, she had

him and she knew it.

#

Clint heard the baying of the crowd behind the thick red

curtain and he experience something he hadn't suffered from in a

long time, not since he worked as a carny doing cheap trick

shots. His palms began to perspire because of fear and nerves.

Valentina was watching on from a high vantage point, a viewing

gallery where the rich and effluent sat in high back leather

chairs and placed bets on the contenders in the arena while

sipping champagne.

Clint was worried. He never doubted his skills as an archer,

but going head to head unarmed with an unknown aslant was a

different matter.

One of the guards hands Clint his bow and arrow pack and pushes him

towards the opening in the curtain. Clint staggers forward and looks out to

a massive steel cage in front of him. The crowd are sent into frenzy when they

spot him and start to grab hold of the walls of the cage and

shake the mesh screening.

"Well, get to it!" Shouts one of the guards as he

pushes an electric baton into his back. Clint lurches forward in

pain clutching his bow in his hand.

The crowd start to shout "Hawkeye!" Chanting, clapping. He

suddenly feels very alone and fearful without his team around

him. Clint looks around at the sea of faces, he feels faint and

dizzy.

A male voice comes over the PA system and announces. "Please

give a round of applause for swiftest avenger of them

all...Hawkeye!" They give a whoop of applause, the women cast

sultry glances and shout perverse things they would do to him

while the men clap like maniacs and shout a mixture of abuse and

cheers.

One of the guards opens the door on the cage and

gestures for Clint to walk inside. Reluctantly Clint carries out

his request.

"Give me that." The guard says pointing to Clint's bow.

Clint's thinks about trying to throw out a few shots in hope of

getting free. He looks around the stadium. The place is pack

with people plus guards and security watching every angle.

"You going to give me that thing?" Asks the guard

impatiently. Clint gives one last look up to the ceiling above

him that looks miles away. He hands the bow over to the guard.

Boom! Clint looks as does everyone else to the where the

sound came from. The doors at the end of the stadium swing open

and in runs his old team. Captain American, Ironman, Hulk and

heading them Nick Fury. They run through the crowd towards the

cage.

"Oh shit!" The guard exclaims before running off.

The team race around to where Clint has walked out of the steel

cage.

"You OK?" Asks Steve.

"Yeah, of course..." Clint responses somewhat puzzled, but

not too surprised by his lenient attitude.

"I don't understand the last I saw of you of you guys, you

were hanging on for dear life."

"Yeah, no thanks to you." Tony says rather bitterly.

"I'm sorry, ok, I was coming back when..."

"Valentina got her claws into you." Nick buts in.

"Yeah...how did you know where I was?"

"We have been tracking her for some time. Nat, where is

she?"

"No idea, but she can't be far away." Replies Clint Grabbing

hold of his arrow pack and bow that the guard had dropped

before running off.

Crash! A bottle smashes onto the face of Tony that has been

thrown from the angry crowd.

"Gentlemen, I think the back-story will have to wait, we

have a paying crowd to entertain." Tony flies off and hovers

above the angry mob trying to be diplomatic, but failing. "Look

if you don't back down force will be used."

"We want a fight! We want a fight!" The crowd responds

shouting, throwing missiles towards him, and the other

Avengers.

Clint begins to run off, he has a score to settle. Fury sees

him leaving and thinks he is fleeing. "YOU DITCHING US AGAIN!"

His voice can just be heard above the crowd.

"No, just got to say my goodbyes." He smiles and runs off

leaving the rest of the team fighting through the mass of

bodies.

Clint takes out a few guards in the hallway with ease and

keeps on moving towards the exhibit room. He was sure she would

head there even just to pick up a trinket before she left. He

slows down and poises with his bow, looking up and down the

hallway. This can't be that easy surly? He thinks to himself.

He bends down to check his boot for his hidden knife. His hand

grasps thin air. "dam!"

He hears movement from inside the room and kicks the door

open.

"Surprise!" He says with a smile, he sure was enjoying this.

Revenge is sweet.

She steps back in genuine fear, dropping a small

jewellery box, the contents of gold chains and large ruby rings

tumble onto the floor.

"Hands in the air, where I can see them." She complies and

raises them.

"Small tip honey, never piss an Avenger off." He moves

closer to her, and aims the arrow towards her heart. "I have

a clear shot..." He tilts his head in a sarcastic manner.

"...You wanted to see me in action, is this close enough?"

"You wouldn't?" She pleads. He couldn't be sure, but he

thought he saw tears in her dark eyes.

"Wouldn't I?"

"You're not a killer."

He lowers his bow. "Your right..." She breathes a sigh of

relief. "...SHIELD taught me to be merciful, show

forgiveness and try to show our enemies the error of their

ways."

A tear rolls down her cheek. "So you will let me go?"

"Well that's the thing Valentina, unlucky for you I'm off

duty and I just..." He raises his bow. "...don't give a

shit!" He releases the arrow.