Author's Note: Thanks guys for the positive reviews! madame tango, you totally made my day! I logged on and was like: "YES! Another good review! People like my stuff!" (I'm sorry, I'm kind of immature sometimes)
So, I've been thinking about publishing another FanFiction I've been writing for a while. The problem is, I've been writing so many I don't know which one to do-and I don't know what to do with this one. Like how to end it and stuff. If anyone has any clean ideas (wouldn't usually put the qualifier on there but it could be rated K+ even though I put a T just to be safe), let me know, I'd love to hear what you think.
And if anyone sees a grammatical mistake that's just driving them crazy, zap me a PM or something and I'll fix it-unless I don't think it's wrong (then I probably won't). And if I left a word out on accident (I do that when I type fast and my brain is working too fast for my hands) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know. I hate it when I do that and I'm reading over it later and just go "Oh crap!"
So, uh, without further ado (and thanks for reading my ramblings), enjoy chapter 4 of Under a Violet-Sky!
Violet-Sky sat on her bed, her tanned fingers tracing her fingers over her silver necklace chain. The diamond-surrounded amethyst charm glittered in the light from the open window. She heard the door open. For knowing him for less than a day, she could tell by the sound of the gait and the breathing that it was Clint.
"Violet-Sky?" he called. She looked up.
"Yeah?" She walked out of her room. He was looking annoyed.
"Tony Stark needs me to handle a case in Ohio," he lied. He was going to Iowa. "So I'll be gone for a couple days. He's offered you to stay at Stark Tower if you're not comfortable staying here."
"I'll be fine here. I'd probably burn the tower down. But that's a nice offer."
They didn't speak to each other until dinner time. Violet-Sky had been on her bed, staring at the dress hanging on her closet door. They hadn't found a use for it yet, though Clint promised he was thinking about one. She could hear him talking to someone on his cell phone in the other room, but couldn't make out what he was saying he was speaking so quietly.
Rolling his eyes, Clint hissed into his phone at his partner. "Natasha please, can you just call them for me? I'm busy trying to keep up this ridiculous pretense of being a lawyer for her. No, she's one of us, but she's only a Level Two. For some stupid reason Fury won't let her know who I really am. He's told everyone but her in the whole agency that she can't know… No I don't know why. Maybe you should ask him… Yes Tasha I know that this will be difficult. I'm sorry… Yeah. And guess what? She's an archer too. Her instructor is a Level Six eighteen-year-old named Tristan Warr… I know he rose through the ranks fast."
"Clint? It's five thirty, you hungry?" Violet-Sky asked, emerging from her room.
"Call you back later. Thanks," Clint said into his phone, hanging up. He turned to his young cousin. "Starving. What do you want me to make?"
"Lawyer living alone wouldn't 'make' much I'd imagine. How about I make rice and gravy?" she replied, taking a look in his fridge. He shrugged, a bit grateful on the inside. He couldn't cook very well. "With grapes and pears."
"Sure if you want," Clint said. He couldn't help but watch her purple eyes as she moved about his small kitchen, pulling things out of cupboards and occasionally asking where something was kept.
When dinner was done, Violet-Sky cleaned everything up and went into her room. It was seven-thirty, and getting dark.
"So what's your schedule for tomorrow?" Clint asked.
"I'll wake up at six, shower, get ready, go to work until about six, then come… here," she replied. He noticed she didn't say home. Something in her wasn't quite warmed up to living with him yet—and he couldn't blame her. It had only been a little less than a day.
"Good night Violet-Sky. Sleep well," Clint offered.
"Good night Clint," she said. She wanted to call him something else, something more… friendly. They were family after all. But nothing came to mind. She disappeared into her room, put on her pajamas, and went into her bathroom to brush her teeth. A two bathroom, two bedroom apartment was an uninteresting thing to come by in New York. She went back into her room and collapsed on the full bed, her face buried in the mattress and her feet hanging off the edge.
She felt like an intruder. It was awkward to say the least.
Clint knocked on her door. She grumbled a muffled "Come in." He opened the door and poked his head around it.
"Nightly get-to-know-you question," he said. She turned her head to breathe fresh air instead of mattress. "Favorite hobby."
"Archery," she mumbled. Raising his eyebrows, he gave her a quick, comforting hug, and bowed out of the room.
Climbing slowly under the covers, she relaxed. Quickly she fell asleep.
She dreamt about the Battle of New York. She wasn't a SHIELD agent then. She was just a boring high-schooler.
She was on a crowded bus all by herself when the first wave of Chitauri came from the portal that erupted from the roof of the Stark Tower. The bus instantly stopped. They tried to get out, but they were trapped.
She didn't know how long she was in the bus, staring out at the destruction and havoc raging around them. She saw three of the Avengers nearby, though she didn't know who they were at the time. A few of the windows of the bus shattered. An archer in black, his bow slung over his body, helped get some of the younger kids out the broken windows. He went to the door of the bus and dragged it open. By the time she got out—letting older people and families out first—the archer had his back to her, making some remark about Budapest. All she saw was his short, light brown hair. He was too busy for her to go and thank him.
She went down to the subway, unable to help. She wasn't a SHIELD agent at the time, and there was nothing she could do.
She woke up with a slight headache as her alarm went off at six. She moaned and rolled unceremoniously out of bed. She took a quick shower and dressed in some normal clothes.
Apparently Clint wasn't up yet. She wrote him a note and took off.
At SHIELD, she changed into her combat training clothes and stretched. When she walked out of the locker room, she was greeted by Tristan.
"I'm sorry," he said. "About your family." She did her best—as she had all the previous day—to hold her tears back. She said nothing and went off into the training room. Before they started, Tristan gave her a hug. His strong, warm, calloused embrace felt more comforting than anything she'd felt in a long time. She took up her bow as she pulled away and shot the arrow straight into the heart of a fake human silhouette. "So that's how you feel about people huh?" Tristan joked.
"No. That's how my heart feels," she quipped.
End Note: That memory/dream was so much fun to write. 'Cause I was like "They could Canonize this if they wanted to! It kind of fits!" (But I haven't read the comics so I have no idea if Hawkeye has any actual extended family or whatever. I was just having fun.)
Thanks again! You guys make me happy!
~Cass
