His death would have been ironic if it didn't hurt them so much to think about.
It had been a mission like any other.
Your typical bad guy of the week. This time it happened to be some genetically enhanced monkeys set free by a scientist who took animal lover to a whole new level. It wouldn't have been a problem except for the part where the monkeys had a taste for human flesh.
Minor detail, really.
Thor had dropped Clint off on a rooftop and everything had been running smoothly. Looking back it makes them sick to realize how long it took them to recognize what had happened.
There had been no sudden shift, no abrupt realization, no gut feeling to indicate that their world had turned upside down.
"Stark, you got two on your tail," Clint warned.
An arrow took one down and Tony took care of the other one.
"Is that supposed to be funny? Monkeys? Tails? Really?"
"Not all of us constantly think in puns, Tony."
"Your loss. You had to take one out? Didn't think I could handle them?"
"Actually I wanted to see if I could get both and make this a challenge," Clint taunted.
Steve spoke up, "Looks like we're almost done. Tony, help Thor in rounding the rest of them up. Drive them towards my position. Natasha, Hulk and I will be here to meet them. Clint, stay up there and pick off strays."
"Copy," sounded from each Avenger.
Clint was a constant in their ears and his arrows flew as often as his warnings.
"Got a group two blocks over, Thor you're closer, it's just north of your position."
"How'd they get up there so fast? Tony there's some on a roof at your ten o'clock. Need me to get them or do you think you can handle it?"
"Steve watch your back! Nat, help him out!"
"Tony, grab Hulk, get him to bring Bruce back. He's causing more damage trying to get the last ones than they could possibly do on their own."
Their focus shifted to finishing off the last half dozen monkeys after Thor rejoined them on the ground. Bruce stood to the side and Tony stuck by him, shooting bursts of energy at any target he could find.
In the quiet after all of them had been taken down Tony made some wisecrack about flying monkeys and silence reigned over the comms.
They were still running on their adrenaline highs and smiles and grins were shared as they all regrouped.
When there was no voice in their ear whining for someone to come get him off the roof they realized that something was wrong.
"Hawkeye, come in," Tony hailed the archer.
They waited…
Nothing.
Natasha turned first, her hand already gripping Tony's suit. "Let's go."
Thor grabbed Steve and Bruce and they all got to the roof within minutes.
They could see a body on the far side where Clint had stood during the battle.
Natasha worked her way over first, a slight sense of urgency because of how still he was, but it wasn't the first time one of them had been knocked out and it wouldn't be the last.
They hadn't suspected it, not until they'd heard Natasha scream.
"Clint!"
They were at her side in a heartbeat and they all forget how to breathe.
Clint's eyes were open and unseeing, his body was still and unnaturally pale. Dark blood had pooled underneath and around him and they could see it gleaming against the darkness of his body suit.
There was slick blood dripping from his open mouth and flecks of red on the ground to the side where he'd coughed and choked on it and someone- maybe all of them- yelled their pain to the city.
They learned later that the shot was off its intended mark- Clint's heart- but had pierced his lung. It had been a slow death, and painful. His reinforced suit had offered no resistance against a high-powered sniper round.
When they finally traced the shot back to an old enemy of Hawkeye's they wonder if the shot had been off target on purpose. A punishment for his mission all those years ago that ruined their crime ring.
He'd had his comm. device still in his ear but he hadn't been able to summon enough air to call out for help.
A week later when the counselor tells them that at least Clint had gone out hearing their voices, Steve- Steve- had knocked him out with one punch.
Natasha was beating against Clint's chest, words falling out of her mouth in frantic Russian. Tears slipped down her face unnoticed.
Thor stood silently above her, his expression stormy and anguished at he looked down at his fallen friend.
Steve was supporting Bruce and both canted to the side and fell gracelessly to the ground, eyes fixed on Clint's body.
Tony was pacing, his red eyes flitting between Clint and the sky and he alternately pulled his hair and cursed the heavens.
At some point each of them pulled their eyes away from Clint- still, silent Clint - and looked to Natasha.
Her face was hard and set, even as her hands shook with some unidentified emotion as they clenched Clint's vest and red seeped onto her fingers.
They didn't know how long they stayed on that roof but eventually their comms crackled to life, startling them all, and Fury's voice resounded in their heads.
"If no one reports to me in the next thirty seconds I'm going to set training at 0400 for a week."
They looked helplessly at each other and then Steve nodded once and answered.
If his voice trembled a little none of them commented.
"This is Rogers."
"Fantastic. Are we clear to begin cleanup?" Fury's blasé attitude snapped something and Tony shouted, "No, you can't fucking start cleanup because we-"
He couldn't finish and from the looks of it, no one else could say it either.
"Avengers? Talk to me!" There was a tone of caution in the Director's voice.
"Barton's down."
Their heads all swerved to Natasha. They'd never heard her sound so broken but her face betrayed none of that.
"What?" Fury sounded as surprised as they'd ever heard him.
"I need intel, Director. Someone shot Clint and I mean to make them all pay," she vowed.
No one moved, it was as though by staying still they could reverse everything. Go back to when Clint was alive and vibrant and not dead.
Natasha reached over and pulled an arrow from Clint's quiver. There was blood- his blood- on the fletching and she ran her fingers through it reverently.
She cut open her palm with the sharp tip of the arrow and whispered something that only the wind could hear. She pressed a soft kiss to Clint's forehead and stood.
She didn't look back when she left.
Her travel bag was gone when they got back to the Tower hours later. They'd stayed with Clint, sorrow making their bodies heavy, trying to come to terms with the loss of their archer before they dared to think of Natasha.
There was a note on the counter when they returned.
He wanted to be cremated.
It was as practical as it was emotional and they all found a hidden meaning within it to ease their pain.
It was a goodbye to Thor. He knew that once she had enacted her vengeance there would be nothing left of her old self to return to. Not without Hawkeye to guide her back. She would go the same way as Clint.
It was a promise to Steve. She was focusing on her mission and trusted them- trusted him- to take care of Clint. Some small part of him secretly hoped that if they took good enough care of him that she'd come back to them.
It was an apology to Bruce. She hadn't been able to protect Clint. Hadn't been able to hold the team together. And now she wouldn't able to stay in the Tower without him.
It was an admission of love to Tony. The closest Natasha would ever get to telling them that the team meant something to her. But at the same time it was an acknowledgment that whatever it was she felt for all of them, what she'd had with Clint had been worth so much more than that.
They never saw her again.
By the time they collected themselves and got to Fury's office she was already piloting a jet to Europe.
She never took their calls or answered their messages and despite having access to the same information that she did, they never caught up to her.
Each body they found had a hole through the heart with no weapon left nearby.
Two months later they arrived at the scene and found an arrow next to the ringleader's body.
They found seventeen different blood samples on the arrow. Including Clint's and Natasha's.
They continued to search for a year and they never truly give up on her.
The urn next to Clint's was empty but that didn't do anything to diminish their grief.
Always
Sinkme