A/N: To my first reviewer of this story, Guest, I'd first like to say thank you! That's a really big compliment for me. Also, Natasha won't be in this much. Maybe I'll include the Avengers later on, but for now, it's just Clint. A few other demigods will play a big part in the story (guess who), but I haven't even thought of including the Avengers.

Because I didn't include this in the last chapter, Clint is 13 right now. I'm sorry, I could've sworn I wrote it somewhere I thought it so much.

I DID IT BEFORE SOMEONE CAUGHT ME! I don't own anything in this except for the idea. The characters belong to other people, anything you recognize isn't mine unless you've read this before.


There. Right in front of him. A deliciously juicy looking rack of ribs. His stomach growled uncomfortably, reminding him ever so helpfully how hungry he was. Especially because he hadn't had a full meal in two weeks, since he bailed on the circus gig. Going on the run was a lot harder than Clint thought. You could never be guaranteed food. Sleep was a blessing whenever it happened. But the worst part had to be the things that kept following him. A few would even disguise themselves as normal kids, his age, and pretend to befriend him before trying to kill him. After the fourth time, Clint just gave up entirely on trusting people.

But this was something different entirely. It was food. Free for him to take. He just had to be fast enough. Or... Clint licked his lips in anticipation. A distraction would work just as well, right? If he could... Yeah. That should work. He picked up a rock and pocketed it, but before he could continue, he noticed another kid going for the same stack of ribs. Sandy blonde hair, around his age. And looking at him from a dark alley were two pairs of eyes filled with hope. Clint breathed out disappointedly. The kids obviously needed it more than him. And Blondie was obviously more skilled than him, too, based on the light way he stepped. He'd... he'd just go for the next one. Yeah.

Clint growled in frustration. There wouldn't be a next one. And he knew it. But the kid had already managed to get it without anyone noticing, well, except for him. He ran his hands through his hair. Man, it really needed a cut. It was starting to fall into his eyes, which was ever so helpful when he was trying to aim silently. Looking back up to the alley, Clint noticed a flash of movement. The kids had retreated to the alley for their feast. It was actually a lot of food for three starved kids. Maybe they wouldn't notice if he snuck some?

"C'mon, Leroy," he muttered, gripping his bow. "Let's get us some dinner."

LINE BREAK LAAA LA LA LA LAAAAAAAAAAA

That plan didn't work out so well.

The kids noticed him easily, even though he was being super quiet. It was almost like they had heightened senses or something. As soon as the oldest, the boy he had seen earlier, saw him, Clint dashed forward and grabbed two ribs, then ran away. As he ran, he glanced over his shoulder to see the boy holding back the two younger girls and giving him a nod. The boy must understand. Or maybe he saw Clint earlier. Either way, he wasn't about to stay and find out.

The two girls, meanwhile- well, the one looked murderous. Probably because he was taking their food. Her electric blue eyes pierced through him, cutting him like a knife. She was maybe a little younger than him. The other girl, the little kid with bleached blonde hair, stared at him with curious grey eyes. It was like she was searching him for something. Something he probably didn't have. Clint tore his eyes from the strange threesome and he ran. Three against one were never good odds, if they decided to fight him.

As soon as he was out of eyesight though, Clint turned around and climbed up to a roof. These kids helped him. No matter how much he refused to trust them, he would still keep an eye on them. Just in case.

HERE'S ANOTHER WHOO HOOOO

Clint followed the group around for the next few days from the roofs and trees. The boy must've noticed, because there was always extra food left behind when they had a meal. And then one day, when the girls were sleeping by a fire while the boy kept watch, he was called out.

"You know, I never understood why you don't just join us," he said. Clint started slightly, but kept quiet. "You're like us," the boy continued. "We can work together." When he didn't get a reply, the boy sighed. "Just know the offer stands." He pulled out a bronze knife and started sharpening a stick. It wasn't until a few minutes later that Clint noticed he was making an arrow.

LOOOOLLLLLAAAAAA LO-LO-LO-LO-LOOOLLLLAAAAA

Clint woke up to the sounds of fighting. Damn. He fell asleep in his tree. That wasn't supposed to happen. He sat up, suddenly alert, and did what he did best. Observe.

Of course, it was another of the not-ghosts. Except this one was bigger than any he had faced before. Much bigger. It was attacking the boy and girls. It looked like they were caught off guard, maybe it woke them up. The boy and little girl were fighting sluggishly with their bronze knives while scary girl became a whole lot scarier with a shield that Clint had never seen before. Most likely, it was so scary because of the design of Medusa on it. All in all, Clint resolved to keep as far away from it as he could. He shook himself out of his shield induced stupor and readied his bow and one of his wooden arrows, aiming carefully. Everyone was moving around quickly and he didn't want to risk hurting one of his potential friends. He pulled back and let his arrow fly solidly into the big guy's forehead. The surprise of his attack was enough to stop all fighting for a few moments, and he took the chance to shoot another three arrows at once at where the thing's heart should be. But... nothing happened. It was perfectly fine, if maybe a bit angrier. And now its anger was directed at him. Shit. Clint jumped down, landing lightly on his feet and narrowly avoiding the thing's charge at his tree. It knocked the entire thing down easily.

"I heard there's an empty spot," Clint quipped, half joking, half serious. The boy smiled.

"Yeah. Just help us with this monster and we'll move on to the introductions." Clint detected a note of fear in his voice.

"I'm way ahead of you," Clint responded, pulling an arrow back defensively. He glanced around for a plan, as his wooden arrows were obviously not cutting it. The thing- monster, as the boy called it- was still trying to get its horn unstuck from Clint's tree. So it was strong, but not too bright. In stark contrast to its tidy whities. It probably relied on force. Giving Clint an idea.

"Try to get it charging at a big tree," he ordered as it finally freed itself. "It should get itself stuck again, then we can attack."

Surprisingly, everyone listened to him. Probably because they didn't have a better plan.

it was no surprise to Clint that he was charged by Big, Bad, and Ugly first. He ran just slow enough that it could almost keep up towards a tree. At the last second, he pushed off the ground, kicked away from the tree, and executed a perfect flip over Ugly's head. Of course, it kept on charging straight at the tree. While it was buried horn deep in the bark, the boy came over and stabbed it with his knife. And it immediately dissolved into the customary golden dust.

"I'm Luke," the boy panted, holding out a hand. After a moment of consideration, Clint smiled and returned the gesture.

"Clint," he replied.


A/N: Yes, I named Clint's bow Leroy. Because it sounded right. Because everything I own or even just use that is of equal or more value to me has a name. My saxophones are Celeste and Artemis. My flute is Felicity. My trumpet is Johnny. My synthesizer is Cynthia. So if you're wondering who Leroy is, it's Clint's bow.