Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Avengers or to "New York State of Mind." All rights belong to their respective owners. I'm simply taking them out for a spin.
Author's Note: First of all, to my readers who were expecting some Stargate fanfic, I apologize. I heard Jeremy Renner singing this song in a video the other day, and it stuck in my head. First artwork, and now fanfic. Anyone wanting to see/hear the video just google "Jeremy Renner singing New York State of Mind." It should be the first link. Hope you enjoy! ~lg
oOo
The sun hid behind gray clouds as Clint Barton stood on the Hudson River Promenade. A breeze came off the water, moist and chilled as a summer rain approached. Few others ventured out today. There was too much work to be done in Manhattan. The Chitauri attack had shaken the world, and most "normal" people were afraid of their own shadows. Which suited Clint just fine. He liked the solitude the Promenade gave him. Out here, he wasn't The Amazing Hawkeye or a SHIELD agent or the traitor responsible for turning Loki loose on the world. He was simply Clint: a man with too many ghosts and not enough friends.
He had buried one of those friends today. Phil Coulson's body had been cremated, and the entire membership of the Avengers had returned from the four corners of the galaxy—Thor included—to honor a man who stood up to a would-be god. Now, with the memorial service behind him, Clint just wanted to be left alone. He leaned his elbows on the railing of the Promenade, one foot resting on the lowest rail as he looked at the New York skyline and turned on the iPod in his jacket pocket. His black jacket, hunched shoulders, and solitary position told the few people wandering the Promenade that he just wanted to be left alone. They skirted around him as the first raindrops began to fall, quickly coating everything with a shiny glow that made the world seem cleaner than it really was.
It had been two weeks since Loki's army attacked New York City. Clint had spent his time since Thor took his traitorous stepbrother back to Asgard cleaning up the battlefield. While technically "in the wind," as Fury put it, Clint felt responsible for a good portion of the damage. He wanted to repay that debt in some small way, and helping rebuild Manhattan seemed like a good start. So, he donned civilian clothes, hid his involvement in the defense of Earth, and worked alongside firemen, construction workers, and everyday citizens who simply wanted the devastation gone.
The iPod switched songs, and Clint grinned. Natasha had given it to him for his birthday back in January, and he barely used it. Now, he found himself rolling his eyes at her eclectic tastes in music. She had managed to nail one of his favorites, however, and he stopped himself from singing along with Billy Joel
Some folks like to get away,
Take a holiday from the neighborhood.
Hop a flight to Miami Beach or to Hollywood.
But I'm takin' a Greyhound on the Hudson River line;
I'm in a New York state of mind.
Clint had chosen this as his theme song years ago. He had seen and done so much in his life that he often wondered if one man could take that much pain. Many times, the thought of just disappearing to some tropical island crossed his mind, but he never really acted on it. He loved New York too much. While it sometimes drove him crazy, he could still lose himself in the city streets and the non-stop activity.
I've seen all the movie stars
With their fancy cars and their limousines;
Been high in the Rockies under the evergreens.
I know what I'm needin', and I don't want to waste more time
I'm in a New York state of mind.
Getting away for a bit really would help him, he knew. He still hadn't fully processed his own emotions over his actions while under Loki's control. The Council's inquiry into the whole affair wouldn't wrap up any time soon, and Clint couldn't leave until it did. The Council called for blood, wanting to pin the responsibility for the attack on anyone available. Loki had been snatched from their grasp, so they'd focused on Clint, leaving Fury to defend him. SHIELD's director did more than just defend Clint, however, already hinting at making him Coulson's replacement Clint hated the idea. He was a field agent, with skills suited for fighting and surviving, not being the handler on the other end of the com link. Besides, Coulson's shoes were pretty big, and Clint didn't think himself up to the task of filling them.
It was so easy livin' day by day
Out of touch with the rhythm and blues.
But now I need a little give and take;
The New York Times, the Daily News.
The media had said a lot of things about the Avengers and their actions during the Chitauri invasion. Clint had kept up with it at first, secretly enjoying the celebrity status while keeping a low profile. The focus of the newscasts had been on Steve, Thor, and Tony. Natasha and Clint had somehow escaped their all-seeing cameras. Their code names had been leaked, however, resulting in the public clamoring to know who Black Widow and Hawkeye really were. After twenty-four hours, though, the novelty wore off and he longed for anonymity again. But he couldn't help wondering if his anonymity had turned into isolation. Had he lost touch with life in general while working for SHIELD? Did he need to get back on the streets, back in contact with a simpler way of life?
It comes down to reality,
And it's fine with me 'cause I've let it slide.
I don't care if it's Chinatown or on Riverside.
I don't have any reasons;
I left them all behind.
I'm in a New York state of mind.
Clint really didn't have reasons for why he'd done what he'd done. After all, Loki's "glowstick of destiny" had changed everything. He hadn't needed reasons after Loki arrived. He'd just mindlessly obeyed whatever the wannabe god told him to do. Now, however, he wished he could give people a firm, valid reason for having turned traitor. Instead, he endured the wary glances and mistrustful glares he received while on base. Thankfully, the Avengers never looked at him like that. With them, he could lapse into long, introspective silences and know that all of them save Stark respected his privacy. Since Stark respected no one's privacy, Clint didn't take it personally when the man refused to leave well-enough alone.
A car door slammed behind him, and he turned his head, listening. He immediately recognized Natasha's footsteps and smiled as she approached. She'd parked some distance away and made some noise as she walked. She had startled Clint once right after her arrival at SHIELD, and he'd taken her to the ground. She never forgot the lesson. It was harder to take her down now, after years of training and working together. But she respected his space and understood his need to know everything going on around him.
Now, she stood a couple yards away with her feet shoulder-width apart and arms crossed. "I thought you'd be here."
Clint nodded once and stared at his hands. "Needed to get away for a bit."
She moved to stand next to him. "It wasn't your fault, you know."
"I know." Clint thought about the moment he'd learned of Coulson's death and Loki's part in it. "Still want to put an arrow through Loki's eye socket."
Natasha smirked. "You would," she said wryly. She shifted on her feet. "The others are asking if you'll be at the wake."
He turned back to the view across the Hudson, with the Statue of Liberty a silhouette in the distance. A wake meant he needed to be sociable, eat some food, and ignore the fact that they'd lost a friend. "Just give me a few more minutes."
Natasha touched his shoulder as she walked away. Clint sighed. He couldn't change what had happened, but he could affect the future. Coulson would have wanted it. Phil Coulson had believed in the Avengers and had died still clinging to that belief. "In heroes," Fury had said to Steve and Tony. Clint didn't think of himself as a hero—not when he'd helped facilitate the attack—but he knew where he would start honoring the life of a man who sacrificed everything: in New York City with the Avengers. Turning to join Natasha in the car, he grinned. Coulson would have asked him what took him so long.
The last few lines of his favorite song played as Clint allowed Natasha to drive him away from the Hudson River and toward the wake. It spoke to where he found himself at the moment and his lifelong desire for a place to call home.
I know what I'm needin',
And I don't want to waste more time.
I'm in a New York state of mind.