Beta red by: Beta read by: markofthemoros and DragonRiderSayomi (aka KageroAssassin - Tumblr)
Ok, since people seemed to like my one-shot, I decided to go ahead and try my hand at a longer, chaptered fic. Again, please be patient, I'm still learning about the series as a whole, so there may be inaccuracies. But rest assured, I'm trying my best. XD I did say I would try and do more Hawkeye fics, so here we are~ Please feel free to let me know what you think!
"Aww, coffee…" Clint whined quietly to himself as a stream rolled down the side of the mug and across the counter. He leaned down far enough to sip a little off the top, enough to pick the cup up without extra spillage.
Still drinking the beverage, the blond glanced over the edge as Natasha rolled her eyes. "Really? That's your, what, third cup in the last two hours?" She raised an eyebrow as he took another, deep drink with a sigh. "Might wanna cool it with your intake."
"No can do," he breathed out. He held up a hand in pause as he gave a lengthy yawn. "'Bout to head back out, need to stay awake. Speaking of…" he muttered, more softly. Natasha's mouth tightened at the exhaustion in his voice. But, she said nothing as he quickly filled a to-go cup. "Gonna need one on the road."
Now it was her turn to sigh. "We got back five hours ago, are they really sending you back out?" Shouldn't have been much of a surprise; back to back missions was nothing new for the duo.
Clint gave a one-shouldered shrug as he turned back around, now with a coffee in each hand. Based on the circles under his eyes, maybe he really did need the extra caffeine rush for this. The man may as well have been running on fumes. "Just a quick run, should be back by tonight. Not really a mission, per se," he offered, as if that made things any better. "Just go in, check the place out, head back. Easy peasy. Lemon squ-"
"Barton!" The duo of spies cut their eyes over to Tony, leaning over the railing a level above them. "We don't have all day to wait on your ass."
The blond gave a fleeting wave, downed the rest of his coffee and offered Natasha a quick 'later'. He took a step before her voice called out after him. "Hey, don't overdo it out there, alright?" He glanced over his shoulder, and damn did he always hate that worried look of hers: the knit brows and set jaw. It was such an unnatural expression for her. And a rare one.
"Don't worry, I always come back," he assured, giving a quick smirk before making his way upstairs. He didn't turn to her again, but a pair of holes were certainly burning into his back. As he reached the top, his free hand pressed against one of his eyes in a small attempt at suppressing the growing ache. Shit, he was tired.
"Nice of you to finally join us," Stark smiled from his place across from Fury. The latter said nothing as Clint stepped in and took the seat next to the genius. The moment he was situated, Nick leaned in closer and gave the both of them a quick glance-over.
After taking a deep breath, the man leaned back, folding his hands over one another. "I just want it to be clear what you two are to be doing on this mission." He made sure to gaze particularly at Tony. "Neither of you are to engage anyone, this is nothing more than a scouting mission. Understand?" A couple of nods, and a somewhat uninterested hum from Tony. "You are to check the area and gather only information. Do I make myself clear? This is why it's only the two of you. The less people we send, the better. Clint for your experience in stealth expeditions, and Tony for your technological prowess."
Neither of them missed the smirk from the genius.
"Don't inflate his ego too much," Clint muttered. "The thing is already on the verge of becoming sentient."
As if nothing had been said, Nick continued: "You're to take a look at the base and make sure it's what we think it is before we send in a whole team. This is a covert operation. Again, is that understood?"
"Loud 'n' clear," Tony gave a playful salute.
Giving a sharp nod, Fury added, "And please, take this seriously."
"Serious is my middle name," Tony nodded. "Well, actually it's-"
"Stark," Nick warned, getting to his feet. "Just promise me, no fooling around. We can't have the higher ups up our ass again. So, I'll ask you again, don't fuck this up."
This time, Tony only nodded, lips pressed tight. He stayed right where he was as Nick made his way to the door. "The coordinates will be sent to you shortly. Go ahead and get ready, I want the both of you out of here within the hour." The pair sat in heavy silence for a few moments, only for the quiet to be broken by another sip of coffee.
Slowly, Tony turned to face Clint. "Can you be any louder?" He pushed himself up and clapped his hands together. "Let's get this over with, Tweetie." He took a couple steps before stopping mid step. He cut his attention over. "You look like shit, by the way."
"Thanks…" Geez, first Nat, and now him. Wasn't his fault he couldn't look glamorous right after a lengthy mission.
Stark's gaze roamed over his features, but he left it at that. It wasn't exactly a rare sight, both him and Natasha often returned a little worse for ware, but bounced back within a day or two. "As long as you're able to shoot your little arrows," he muttered.
"I'll tell you where you can stick one of those 'little arrows,'" Clint mumbled under his breath. With a deep breath, he followed suit, no more than a few feet behind the other man. As they approached the Quinjet, Clint ran a hand down his face and practically collapsed into the co-pilot's seat the very second they reached the cockpit. He leaned back, coffee now grasped between his hands, and allowed his eyes to slip shut. All the clicking and clanking going on around him as Tony got everything prepared was starting to grate on his already agitated nerves. A few minutes went by, and finally, Stark dropped in the seat next to him.
Clint didn't even open his eyes as the jet started up and vibrations were sent up his legs. Instead, he relaxed back and willed his shoulders to roll back. It'd probably be a couple hours or so before they arrived, plenty of time for a quick nap.
Nothing but hopeful wishing.
"You spill that, you're paying for the cleaners."
The blond jolted slightly just in time before his cup could slip from his hands. He cleared his throat and corrected his posture a little. Now straighter in his seat, he cleared again, wincing a bit at the scratchiness resonating in the back. Cocking his head in irritation, he took a long drink of the now lukewarm liquid. He swore silently to himself for letting it cool off so much. Oh well, it didn't matter much, it was still some sort of caffeine.
"You, uh, you sure you're up for this?" Tony asked, casting the other man a swift glance. "Because I don't want to have to explain to anyone how this all went to Hell because someone couldn't stay awake."
Clint waved a dismissive hand. "I told you, I'm fine. Once we get there, I'm sure the cold will wake me up." He was determined to leave it at that, because that's all there was to it. He slowly finished up his coffee, and for the reminder of the time they had left, he intended to sleep it away.
Key word: Intended.
"Ok, just wanted to make sure," Tony muttered, as though it were to himself, but Clint knew better than that.
The blond pried one eye open to glare over until the genius was quiet again. With sigh, he sank deeper into his seat, this time closer to slumber.
"Hey, Birdie-boy."
This time, Clint hummed, loud and clear, making his annoyance painfully clear. "What do you want, Tony?" he asked, tone firm.
"We're here."
'Great,' the archer thought bitterly, opening his eyes and sitting back up. And not a second of sleep - unless you count those on and off near-naps towards the start of their trip. He sure as hell didn't. He groaned lightly and raised a hand to his head. He pushed the throbs that pulsed through it to the back. His eyes scanned the scenery before them, and a chill already set in his spine at the white sheets coating the hills and mountains. On the bright side, at least the chill would help wake him up.
Before the aircraft was a few yards off the ground, Clint was gathering his things, strapping everything on with heavy sighs.
"Someone's eager," Tony muttered under his breath with a sly smirk playing the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah," Barton snorted, "eager to finish, get home, and get my ass to bed." He offered a small, impish half-smile of his own in an attempt to lighten the already spoiled mood. "So, how long you think this will take? A few hours?" He knew better than that, but it wouldn't hurt to have a bit of hope, right?
The snort he got as a reply was just what he was expecting. He was already aware, based on the size of this base, which was of a decent size, and the cover they had with this weather, it would be at least eight hours. And that's only if things carried out optimally. Clint cast another glance at Tony as he finally got them landed and started suiting up. His lips pressed together at the light-hearted expression the other wore. Yeah, this was definitely going to take more than that.
The genius whistled a low tune as he finished up and opened the doors. The archer flinched as the crisp air flowed in, hitting like sharpened ice shards against his face. "You ready to go for a bit of a fly?" he asked, looking back and flashing a quick grin before it swiftly finished behind the 'swish' of his mask.
"Just, remember not to take us in too close…" Clint warned as the other man linked his arms through the blond's.
"I'll also try to remember not to drop you," Tony muttered back. He felt the other's arms stiffen, clearly on the verge of giving a retort of his own. Whatever he was about to say was lost in the roaring of his thrusters. In a matter of seconds, they were about a hundred feet above the ground and moving forward at a considerable speed.
All the while, Clint kept his eyes closed. Obviously, the height bothered him little if at all, but the quick ascension didn't do his growing headache any favors. And he was thankful for the near-deafening sound of Tony's suit to be able to cover up the groan he felt escape his throat. He counted the seconds - minutes - they were flying for until they finally slowed to a stop. A small prayer ghosted over parted lips when his feet finally sank into soft, freshly-fallen snow.
Unexpectedly, he stumbled a bit with his first step, a bit shocked to realize the strong grasp on his upper arm kept him from getting a face full of frozen fluff.
"Yeah, took me a while to get used to landing, too," Tony said with a click of his tongue. Though his face couldn't be seen, Clint could still see the over-confident wink accompanying the sound.
"Shuddup," Clint ground back, swallowing down a touch of nausea. He straightened himself up and rolled his shoulders back, effectively shaking off any visual signs of uncertainty he may have had. If the other man had noticed any shortcomings, he kept them to himself, much to Clint's appreciation. "Let's just...yeah," he muttered, readjusting his quiver and taking it upon himself to take the lead on this one.
There were no complaints from Tony as he followed after. The occasional swear filtered its way out as he trekked through the piled up snow. And he couldn't deny the slight hint of jealousy as he gazed ahead to the easy trekking of the archer. It was as if the knee high white blanket went almost unnoticed. He glanced down at his thrusters and grumbled softly. If it weren't for the risk of being heard, he'd not hesitate to just fly himself over.
Or, it did for a while until Tony picked up on the subtle stumble followed by a frustrated sigh. They continued on for a few more minutes - a few minutes of pushing their way through and focusing on getting one foot in front of the other without tripping on anything hiding underneath. So focused on his own travels, the genius nearly ran straight into the blond when he made an abrupt stop.
"H-Hey, give a bit of a warning next time will y-"
"Shh…"
Clint's hand shot up, causing the other man to flinch slightly. Tony tightened his lips, eyes wide as he tried to follow Barton's gaze. His eyes flicked from one side to the other, but for the life of him, he couldn't see other than white and trees.
Voice low, Tony mumbled, "Whatcha see with your elf eyes, Lego-"
He bit right back down when Clint grabbed an arrow and notched it in a fraction of a second. And in the next, the arrow was flying through the air - at a speed he could barely keep up with. However, there was not a chance in Hell he missed the sparking from a few yards ahead.
"Camera," Barton clarified with a glance back.
"Ah," Tony breathed out with a small nod. "A camera? Don't you think shooting it will be, I don't know, a dead giveaway?" Despite his words, his voice carried a light tone.
Another half-shrug. "It wasn't facing us, so we weren't spotted. As cold as it is and," he glanced up, "with all the frozen branches and icicles, anything could have broken it." He replaced his bow and rubbed his hands together. Even with the gloves, his fingers were growing a tad numb. That and he was sure the frigid temperature were making his headache that much worse. 'Just bare with it, Clint,' he told himself. 'Soon enough, this will be over, and you'll be on your way back to a hot cup of coffee and bed.' He sighed, keeping that thought in mind.
A few more minutes of walking, and finally, to the relief of them both, a structure came into view. They took this opportunity to get low and survey the area. Clint only glanced around for a few seconds before raising an eyebrow at Tony and scanning him up and down.
"You really should have considered a different paint job," he scoffed. "Don't think red and gold are exactly the most subtle."
Barton knew there was an eye roll before the genius spoke. "Well, excuse me for not being prepared, Twinkle Toes. But, in case you've forgotten, I'm not normally equipped for stealth missions...that's kinda not my thing."
"Trust me...I know," Clint replied, clearing his throat rather roughly in between words. He winced slightly as the last one grated uncomfortably. He tugged at his collar, just now realizing how tight it was. Despite the cold, there was a minor warmth that had started to originate from his chest about half an hour prior. Clearing his throat again in an attempt to rid himself of an itch, he only aggravated it further, eliciting a couple light coughs.
"You good?"
Without hesitation, Barton waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, fine, this damn cold air is annoying as hell." His right hand raised to massage his throat in a futile attempt to alleviate some of the scratchiness.
"If you say so," the pepper-haired man muttered brow furrowed. Now that his attention was piqued, he noticed more easily the awkward way the other man carried himself as they continued. He watched the way his shoulders rose and fell with more effort than a few minutes ago and the way his feet dragged more heavily behind him. Worry pooled in the back of his mind, but before he could focus on it too much, his eyes were brought elsewhere: to the now full view of the building. It was still a distance away, but they could make out almost the whole structure.
The moment they came to their second stop, Barton wasted no time crouching down, motioning for Tony to do the same. The latter's lips pressed together tighter at the sound of the archer's near breathlessness. He opened his mouth, ready to voice his concern again, but alas, the chance was snatched away.
"Do your thing," Clint whispered, nodding forward.
"Right."
He didn't need to be asked twice. "Jarvis, you know what to do."
In a matter of seconds, panel after panel of information popped up before him. He hummed to himself as he scanned it all over, mumbling softly. There was a few clicks of his tongue. Whether they were good or bad clicks, that was to be discovered. Meanwhile, Clint waited patiently, or as patiently as he could. His fingers drummed down his bow in anticipation.
"Well?" the blond finally asked a few more moments.
There was another hum before the other man spoke. "Well, as expected, there is quite a bit of security measures. Quite impressive too, might I add. Though, not quite as impres-"
"Stark."
"Ok, ok. It shouldn't be too difficult to disable it. Just gonna need you to take out a few more cameras so I can get in closer and see what I can do about it. Though, that's not the issue, what they have is obsolete, so the issue is just getting close."
Clint nodded, "Alright, just tell me where they are." He once again readied his bow and quickly took out the first one pointed out. Then the second, and a third. As he notched his fourth arrow, a small hiss escaped him with the pang that jolted through his chest. Jaw tight, he pulled back as the last location was called out to him. He swore silently with the slight tremble that went down his arm.
After that, Clint wished he could explain what happened. All he knew was his vision wavered and his grasp faltered, causing his hold to release.
Eyes locked on the projectile, Tony's heart clenched as he watched it fly through the air and...miss? It traveled right past the target. His mouth fell agape at the sight and he turned his head to the equally shocked expression on the agent.
He missed.
Hawkeye missed.
Though, that's not to say the stray arrow didn't hit something, for it certainly did. And it was the blaring alarms as a result that tore Tony's attention away from the bewildered blond.
"We have to move," he whispered, firm hand clapping on the other's back. "They know someone's here, we need to fall back and wait it out." Still, Clint didn't budge; his focus remained forward, but his eyes revealed the shame that fought with confusion underneath. "Barton, move!" Stark raised his voice, giving the shoulder a solid shake. "You can self-reflect later," he said as the commotion grew closer. "For now, we need to back off!"
Clint nodded stiffly. "Right, of course." His gaze dropped as he stifled another cough before unsteadily getting to his feet. What the hell happened? He took one last look in the direction of his misguided arrow, noticing instantly the slight blur at the edges of his sight. He blinked until things cleared once more. He was just tired, that's all there was to it.
"Come ON!"
Barton let out a huff and took off after the other. He hated to admit it, but Tony was right. Get away now, worry about his blunder later. Though, even with that in mind, he couldn't quite shake the bubbling doubt brewing in the pit of his stomach. Every step he took sent a jolt through his whole body, each one only arguing against his 'just tired' excuse.