A/N

This is the story of how Hawkeye meant Tasha and all that stuff. Starts pre-movie, but will eventually work its way to post-movie. There will be one OC involved in this- Lydia Harris, Hawkeye's protégé. She doesn't make her first real appearance until much later though. I have never read the comics so it will be movieverse and my messed-up headcanon. Written by Frozen Nightmare, who shares this account.

HeadCanon ages for this era(just so you aren't confused)

Hawkeye-23

Black Widow- 21

Iron Man- 33

CA- still being a popsicle

Hulk-38

Thor- still in Asgard

Harrier(Lydia)-12

Spider-man(yeah, I kind of consider him an avenger. No appearance until later though.)- 14

Prelude

The Hawk's Last Song

Just for the record, Clint hadn't wanted to be here at all.

The whole point of this graduation was to receive an unimportant degree for a false career, a mere formality in his string of lies. He was tired of listening to the commencement speaker, tired of the feel of the robes fluttering around his ankles in the soft wind. At least they were purple.

He knew what was coming after this was over. All his "friends" would go out and party. He, meanwhile, would be heading back to his modest New York apartment, to pack his things and hang up his Hawkeye costume for good.

He hadn't decided what he would do with his bow yet. SHIELD had told him he would receive a much better one, that an operative as talented as him, albeit new, deserved better than his handmade thing. Privately he agreed. He would miss the old thing, but he looked forward to a newer, more advanced one.

This was it, then. The Hawk's last song, the last ballad of the hero who had protected New York ever since he was sixteen. The game was over, and it was time to get on with real life. Well, as real as a life as you could call SHIELD agent. Officially, he wouldn't exist anymore.

The story was that he had been recruited by the military, and no one was too surprised. After all, they said, he's a bright young man. Good shot, too. It makes sense for him to be a soldier.

He recalled the day when SHIELD had found him. He had been up in his roost after a long night when Nick Fury had showed up, pointed a gun at his head, and asked him if he wanted to work for them. Well, it hadn't worked exactly like that, but it was how he had remembered it.

At the time, he had turned Fury down. He had six months left in college, and wouldn't be a suspicious if an honor student left halfway through the year? But he still had full intentions to join them. "The day after I graduate," he had said, "I'm yours."

Fury had reluctantly agreed, but Clint knew that his reluctance had only been because he had been admitting to himself that Clint was right, that it would look suspicious.

He was contemplating all of this when it suddenly struck him who to give his bow to.

Lydia.

She was clever, and a damn good shot too. He should know- after all, he had taught her. Granted, she was only twelve, but he suspected she would take up his job soon. Without school to go to, the girl was just desperate to be out in the world, doing something.

He had found her when she was six, a street orphan with nowhere to go. Or more accurately, she had found him. She had spotted him in one of his perches, a feat no one else had ever achieved, not even the police. He couldn't just ignore that kind of talent, especially after she had proceeded to shoot a pigeon in the eye from five hundred yards.

Yes, that would be perfect. She deserved a bow of her own, especially now that he would be gone. He wasn't worried at all about leaving her alone either. That kid could take care of herself.

Somewhere beyond, he heard his name being called.

Time to end his song.