Author's Note: I want to thank you all for reading this, my second fic in the Hulkeye fandom! Any advice would be greatly appreciated! I am trying to remain IC, at least according to the movie, Avengers. But I know that I write AU because I can't grasp characters that well. Anyway, please enjoy!

This is AU where Bruce and Clint are teenagers! And where Clint is in the circus.

Warnings/Triggers: Attempted suicide, abusive/absentee father, orphaned teen, and forced performance (kinda).

Beyond the Masks We Wear

Bruce walked through the massive crowd of people, just a few minutes after the show ended, and made his way against the crowd towards the back of the tent. He hoped that the ringleader hadn't just said he could meet the troupe as a way to placate Bruce after his impromptu involvement in the act. He pulled the curtain back and poked his head through, hoping that he wasn't disturbing anyone, there he saw the Blind Archer sitting on an ornate decrepit chair staring blankly into nothingness.

"E-excuse me?" Bruce shyly said, trying to get the attention of the teen that shot an arrow at his head.

"Hey, it's you!" Jumping to his feet, the blonde archer extended his hand, "My name's Clint."

Bruce shook his hand, getting distracted by the blue-green eyes that seemed to sparkle.

"It's your turn dude." Clint whispered with a smirk on his face.

"Sorry, I'm Bruce." He flushed a deep red when he realized that he couldn't stop staring into Clint's eyes.

"Lets get out of this hot tent, there's someone I want you to meet, and she'll love you Bruce." Clint, still holding Bruce's hand from the handshake, pulled him out of the tent and towards the wooden fence he had previously occupied.

Standing in front of a lioness wasn't something Bruce thought he would ever do in his life, yet here he was, standing a few feet away from a predator. Clint just walked up and held out a hand, while Bruce watched in awe as the beast sniffed and licked his hand.

"Her name is Nat, short for Natasha, but nobody ever calls her by her full name. She doesn't like it. Come on Bruce, come closer. It's not like she's going to bite." Clint held out his other hand, offering it to Bruce who accepted it and slowly approached the lioness. Rubbing his hand gently across the fur of Natasha, Bruce laughed lightly, mostly out of fear.

They left Natasha where she was, lying in the shade of the oak tree and gnawing on a giant meat bone, and sat on the fence, just like Bruce had seen Clint earlier in the day. Instead of an awkward silence or unfamiliarity between the two, Clint fired off questions like it was going out of style.

"So Bruce, how old are you?" Clint asked, watching as Natasha jumped around in the grass, trying to catch something.

"I'm 17, a junior in high school."

"What brought you to the circus today?"

"My mom bought me a week pass for getting good grades this year."

"How good were they to get a pass for that long?"

"Well, I don't remember my GPA because it's been a long while since I even looked at it, but this year I managed straight A's, in all AP courses." Bruce blushed a deep crimson; he never liked discussing his own intellect, despite being one of the brightest students that school has ever seen. Instead of letting Clint direct the conversation entirely, and wanting to change the subject, Bruce started asking questions.

"You already know my age, so I want to know how old you are Clint, you look like you could still be in high school." Bruce asked, shifting on the fence, trying to keep his right leg from falling asleep, but failing at it.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I think I'm 19." Clint replied giving a small sad smile, causing Bruce to worry that he hit a nerve with the other teen.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I wouldn't …" Bruce apologized until Clint laughed, startling Bruce.

"It's fine. I just never knew my parents, they gave me up a few years after I was born. The orphanage thought I was around 3 maybe 4 when I arrived, but they weren't sure."

"Oh." Was all Bruce could manage, he instantly regretted bringing up Clint's age despite his attempt to quell Bruce's guilt. A minute of silence passed before Clint hopped off the fence.

"Lets go get something to eat, my treat." Clint's huge grin and bright eyes gave Bruce reassurance that everything was okay, that he hadn't stepped on toes or shoved his foot into his mouth.

They walked over to the only restaurant located within the circus and Clint ordered the food for both Bruce and himself. They walked over to the furthest table from the crowd, so they would have some privacy while they ate. While waiting for their food to arrive, Clint asked more questions.

"What's it like going to school? You must have lots of friends!" Bruce just gave a small shake of the head before deciding on an answer.

"School is…great. Except, I don't really have a lot of friends. Nobody seems to like me much."

Clint didn't think about hugging Bruce before, until he heard that Bruce didn't really have friends. He pulled the younger teen into a tight hug, saying that he does have a friend.

"I'm your friend Bruce. Don't be sad."

At that moment their food arrived, along with a loud wolf whistle from the waiter. Clint yelled a few obscenities at the man before taking a bite of the lasagna. They ate and continued asking millions of questions on anything that popped into their heads.

A couple of minutes after they finished eating, Bruce heard his cell phone ring. Grapping the device from his pocket, he sighed as he missed the call. He opened the flip phone and noticed he had 6 calls from his mother within the last 20 minutes.

"Clint, I'm sorry. I have to call my mother, would you mind?" Clint waved his hand before Bruce got out of his chair and walked a few feet away from Clint. He didn't care if Clint heard; he didn't want to be rude. He listened to the phone ring endlessly and got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He returned to Clint and saw that there were two glasses full with chocolate milkshakes.

"Something happened, my mom isn't picking up after just calling me. I've got to go make sure everything is okay." Bruce said trying to sound apologetic.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it; just let me know if there is anything I could do to help. Will you be back tomorrow?" Clint stood up, his face full of worry and concern and watched as Bruce nodded before turning to run out of the restaurant.

Bruce ran the short distance home, breathing heavily as he opened his door and quickly shut it behind him. He entered the kitchen and saw a figure standing over his mother, who was sprawled out on the floor. Bruce opened his mouth to yell when he was attacked by the figure, everything went black and Bruce only had one thought running through his head as he fell.

How is HE here?

A/N: It won't take much thinking to figure out this mystery figure, but for those who aren't able to figure it out, don't ruin it. I hope you enjoyed this, please let me know how I'm going, what you like, don't like, how I can improve.

Thanks

-RAY-