All Hallows Eve
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, I do not own Halloween, but I do own a very useful brain. That said, I'll move onto the story. Everybody is wearing a mask.
CHAPTER FOUR: THE FALLEN ARCHER
Clint Barton did not scare easily. But the man standing before him and all the other Avengers was seriously starting to creep him out. The Red Skull- wasn't he supposed to be dead already? And why did he say that he was their worst fear? Sure, the evil man in front of him was freaky, but Clint wasn't petrified.
Said evil man cackled maniacally. "Shall we start with the super soldier, Captain Rogers? As a demonstration?" With a wave of his hand, the remaining five Avengers and Loki were teleported away.
Groaning, Clint stood up. The new place reeked of a trap, and his skilled eyes quickly picked out details despairingly fast, his brain taking in the individual cells, the locked doors, the meager light, the huddled lump in the other cell-
The archer froze. A huddled lump…
On closer inspection, Hawkeye saw that the lump was, indeed, Steve Rogers. He was slightly bloodied, but no cuts were visible, thanks to his super soldier serum. "Cap?" He whispered to the soldier. When he didn't respond, Clint rattled the cages. "Rogers. Rogers, its Hawkeye. Steve!" Nothing seemed to get through to the man. Clint racked his brain for something that would maybe get the man to respond.
Sighing, Hawkeye sat down. Thoughts, not his, suddenly poured through his mind. What do you fear, Archer? You fear Death? No. Do you fear the dark? Not quite, but we are getting 'warmer', eh? Clinton Barton. Do you fear being abandoned? Ah yes, your brother abandoned you.
Stop, Clint wanted to yell. Stop it. You're lying.
But the voice went on. Your skill in archery is the only thing that's keeping you on the team. You don't fear being blind, because you can hear your targets. But you cannot shoot with one arm, can you, Archer?
Searing pain shot through Clint's arm, and he screamed. The pain didn't stop until he had no air left in his lungs, until his head felt like it would burst.
When the pain finally abated, Clint opened his eyes. He pushed himself up against the wall for support, but something didn't seem quite right…
He tried to move his right arm. Alarm bells went off in the back of his head. No. No. No! Clint tore his eyes away from the stump that was once his right arm. No…
Despair swept through his body like cold fire, and Hawkeye slumped against the wall. He would never be able to shoot again, never be a part of the team again. He would always be abandoned, left behind because he was useless now, as a sniper and as Hawkeye.
How could you shoot with one arm?