OK! 9! ONE LEFT AFTER THIS!
I like CLint. I love CLint. New Clint is bad but still has heart, remember that!
REVIEWERS!
amy. d. fuller. 9 ; Sorry pal, won't get to see that until next chapter! Glad you liked it and thanks for the review :)
Niom Lamboise ; Glad you liked it :) Hope I updated quick enough for you! :)
IWriteSinsOrTragedies ; Holidays!? Somewhere nice, I hope!? :o Glad you enjoyed it! Thank you for the review, made me smile knowing you actually took time out from your vacation to read it! :)
ELOSHAZZY ; Did think of turning him into Human Torch, actually! :P Then I thought that would be a little too much for the poor guy to handle so simple powers would be enough! :P Glad you liked it, hope you like this one :)
Disclaimer; Disclaimed. Feck you, claim people!
There were alot of effects to this new serum. That was the simple way to put it. He could run without getting tired, he could fall and not feel the pain, he could lift without limit so far, and he was pretty sure he was getting closer to that whole breathing fire thing that was mentioned! His hearing was better than 100% for the first time in who knows how long, all aches and pains were gone, all scars that once graced his body had vanished.
But the one thing he found to be the best, the one super power per say that he couldn't wrap his head around, was that there was no nightmares.
For as long as he could remember, all the way back to childhood, back to even before the circus; he had nightmares. Each night. Be they about his father, about his circus days, or most recent years yielding night terrors about the people he's taken from this world and his conscience making him relive every single moment of whatever hit he was thinking about that night.
But, from when he woke up with this serum - this virus - running through his veins, he hadn't had one nightmare. He didn't tell anyone about it. Natasha knew about his nightmares, but most nights he hid them from her. She would be the only one to know, and so he really didn't want to bring up the fact that he had them each night before and now no nights after. It was something he couldn't wrap his mind around. Sure, the physical stuff made perfect sense - the virus was working on creating a perfect host body so that it would have the best chance of surviving along with it.
But why would it help his mind? Surely that's something the virus couldn't give a shit about. The scarier thought was that it wasn't helping him sleep; it was helping him clear his conscience. He just didn't seem to mind what he had done, what he might have to do in the future, nothing like that bothered him. It was him or them, and in the grand scheme of things, them being gone made the world a hell of alot better. So, why should he feel bad about it?
He sighed happily to himself and stretched out on the sofa, nuzzling the arm of it for a moment to try find the comfy spot he had a moment ago. He liked waking up without sweat drenched hair clinging to his forehead and his stomach ready to throw itself up! It was definitely the best part of this serum situation!
Of course, he was noticing some drawbacks.
The heat he felt sometimes was crazy. He was afraid in those moments that if he touched off something it would just automatically catch fire or if he touched someone then he'd leave them with some kind of horrible burns. It didn't burn him though. He didn't know how to describe it, and he didn't want to describe it to anyone lest they worry, but it was the only draw back he had noticed.
That, and his little temper problem. He could admit that he was always a bit of a fire head. If something set him off - usually that something happening in battle - then he wouldn't be able to calm down for the longest time and it would take some serious talking from Romanoff or Coulson to stop him going on a full force rampage. But this was different. Little things were sending him into a fit.
When he couldn't hit a target with his bow, that's when he noticed it starting. When they wouldn't let him make his coffee, when he couldn't figure out how to use Stark's new shower, when the rifle jammed during training, when Natasha pushed him..
That last one was the only time he ever thought about sending a bullet through Natasha Romanoff's skull.
Even when he was sent to kill her all those years ago, he never thought of doing that. Yet, when she put her hands on him - not the worst way she has over the years either - something in him snapped and he wanted rid of her.
It took everything he had to calm that side of his brain down enough to lower the gun. But he did, and he was thinking that that's something to be proud of, that even though he was the angriest he's ever been even over something so stupid as that he got the will power to cop on and drop the gun.
What went on in his mind he couldn't say. It was like someone just went over to some command central in his brain and flicked a switch telling him that everything's a threat and needs to be eliminated so he could gain control over the situation once again.
He opened his eyes when a chill went through him, and sure enough his sense was right, because Banner, Rogers, and Stark were all entering the room. They looked pretty serious, so he was sure he was about to get some telling off for the earlier incident. No one had spoken to him since the jet landed, except Natasha when he pulled her aside to apologise. She just smiled and waved it off with a 'Not the first time, not the last.' comment. It seemed everyone else would require a little more work to prove how sorry he was that it had happened.
"Well.. Your faces wouldn't go amiss at a funeral." He said with a slight smirk as he sat up on the sofa, trying to ease whatever tension had fallen on the room since their arrival.
Not even a smirk from Tony though. They all just took seats around the space, Steve on the sofa opposite Clint, Banner on the armchair, but Stark just stayed standing behind the Captain and was watching Clint with some eyes he's never seen on the billionaire before.
"Look.." Clint sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees to get a little closer. He kept his voice low. "I'm sorry about what happened.. I don't know what did it, but I talked to Natasha and she's fine. Please don't pull me out of the game, I only got back in.."
That's what they were here for, right? That's why they had such horrid looks on. They were here to tell him he was a threat, a liability, and he wouldn't be going on anymore missions with them. It's the same face Fury had on him when he told Clint that he couldn't do anymore SHIELD assignments until things blew over after Loki fucked with his mind. He only got back in, the thought of being pulled out again had him a little panicky and the more he thought about it, the more he felt his control slipping.
"Relax Clint." Steve said with a shake of his head. He fell back against the back of the sofa, his eyes never leaving Barton though. "That's not what we're here for."
"Opposite, actually." Tony shrugged. He was avoiding Clint's eye. He couldn't tell why.
"Mission?" Clint asked with an eyebrow raised, sitting up to attention then. Habit. After years of devoted service to SHIELD, the second he hears that there's a mission he goes full soldier mode.
"Kinda." Bruce said in a near sing song tone. They were skirting around some subject, but Clint knew better than to ask. If they wanted to tell him, they would.
"Look, we need your help." Steve said a little more sternly. It drew his attention straight away.
"My help?" He asked curiously. "I can't do shit right now. Bucky can probably do my job for me."
"Well, we don't need him." Tony shrugged. Clint had to grin when Steve shot him a hurt look. "You know what I mean, Cap."
"Barnes is a great soldier alright." Banner nodded, watching Clint's reaction for something. "But he doesn't have the intel you have, the skills you have when it comes to this mission."
"Point is." Steve said through a sigh to cut Banner off - before he gave away too much Clint guessed. He turned his attention back from the billionaire to Clint instead. "You're needed for this mission. You in or out?"
"Always up for a good mission!" He grinned, falling back against the back of the sofa with his arms sprawled out over the back of it. "Where to? Hydra misbehaving again? Really should live up to your name Cap and get rid of those for good."
"Cut off one head.." Steve said with a slight grin, shrugging then before leaning on his knees once more to watch Clint. Serious face was on. "We're going after Doom."
His hearing wasn't fixed.
That was the only explanation for what he heard.
With an eyebrow raised, he rubbed at his ear to try make sure it was clear and actually working. But no, those were the words that left the Captain's mouth. They were the words he heard and the words that were currently struggling to register in his mind. 'We're going after Doom.'
"Sorry Rogers, don't think I heard that right." Clint laughed a little nervously, shaking his head when the three men looked at him with worry. "I thought you said we're actually going after the man who blew my arm off."
"Clint.." Bruce began softly, but Barton held a hand up.
"I mean, that would be stupid, right?" He said with a shrug at the end, eyes still on Steve as the men stared eachother out of it. "I'm not 100%, I can't shoot my bow, I'm no where near as dangerous or effective with a gun, and don't get me started on how unused to these powers I am. Still, with all that, you want to go against the man who nearly killed me when I was at my best?"
Silence.
But Clint just smirked at each man in turn before landing back on Steve.
"When do we start?" He asked with a grin, sitting up so he was ready to get himself prepared.
Tony's smirk was the only thing Clint noticed. From the corner of his eye, he did see Bruce cast a curious glance Steve's way, as if they were expecting him to act any other way.
"Clint, we need to make sure you're aware what this is." Bruce said carefully, but Clint was already standing.
"Look, guys, I'm freaking a little, I'll admit it." He shrugged, stretching out his muscles. They were complaining after being curled up on the sofa so long. "But if you guys need it done.."
"Well, I think we'd all much prefer him behind bars."
"Or dead." Tony added to Steve's comment, holding his arms up in a defensive way when the captain sent him a glare. Stark winked at Clint when the archer let out a little laugh.
Or dead sounds perfect! It was the plan all along after all!
"Suit up, Hawkeye." Tony grinned. Turning to leave then. "Wheels up in an hour. I'm leading it this time!"
Sure, why not let Tony lead things for once? Steve didn't look too impressed about it.
But Tony wanted Doom hanging from the rafters by the neck. Clint really wanted that too.
So the fact that Stark would be leading this mission had Clint grinning on the way to his room.
"On your six, Cap!" Clint said through a grin as he rounded the corner, seeing that there was one sneaky little guard on his way up behind Steve with a knife as the captain fought off four others.
Clint didn't wait for Rogers to turn around, he just ran up to the guard from behind, snapped his neck clean in two, and was gone in a flash.
He jumped up and grasped the support beam on the roof with both hands, swinging away from Steve's fight with a smirk a moment later to avoid the hail of bullets that were being sent his way.
Another box passed, and he was beginning to see a pattern with them.
These were new, or at least Clint had never noticed them before. The alarm system wasn't known because this was the first time Doom had ever needed it. The years and years himself and Natasha have been breaking into this place and places like it, not once has Victor Von Doom needed to alert his troops in such a manner. It's how he knew they had him caught off guard. Other times he'd tell the guards before they even got close to the airspace.
This was new, and so were they. So Doom must be shaking in his boots right about now!
They had a bigger, badder, and much better team this time around!
The ever skilled Captain America, the rash and reckless Iron Man, the thunderer himself Thor, the big guy smashing guards left right and centre Hulk, a breathtaking and legendary sniper in the Winter Soldier, he most deadly woman to ever walk the earth Black Widow. And now?
Well, a new and improved Hawkeye!
The powers took some getting used to, he'd admit that all day long. Speed was tricky. It took him a few days of gym work on the treadmill to learn how to make his legs respond, but once he did he couldn't believe just how well they could run and dodge. His parkour course record was smashed in no time. Strength was easier! His arms hadn't felt this good in years! It meant that he could, just like now, swing from rafter to rafter like they were children's monkey bars without breaking a sweat. The strength he now possessed meant that fighting was cut down time wise by well over half - making his way through the enemies in no time flat. Even if he took a bad knock, one that would normally have him retreating for a moment to catch his breath or have him getting a little sloppy from pain, it wouldn't matter because his body would heal him in less than a second and he wouldn't even feel any different.
All in all, for missions, he loved these powers of his and he was wondering why the hell he didn't let Stark experiment on him years ago!
'Quit playing up there and do some work, Clint.' Natasha's voice came through the comms, causing him to give a little chuckle. He altered his swinging course to head towards her corridor instead.
He cleared his area five minutes ago. He didn't waste any time with any of the men sent his way. With these new powers he had decided that he's to protect his friends no matter what. And the only way he could actually do that was if he got his job done and over in as little time as possible.
He got to the end of her corridor and gave a slight smirk. He counted ten guards, easy take down for Natasha and he knew it, even if they did have guns and knives she was still better than all of them combined. Still though, nice to help out a lady!
He swung himself up and over the beam so his knees acted as pivots and anchors at the same time, allowing him to hang upside down from the support. He drew the rifle from his back and turned off the safety to get ready.
He was getting near perfect with his bow again, his arm finally responding how he wanted it to. That was in the range though, and sure he had practised on moving targets alright, but this was different. This was the most difficult mission he's ever taken even at full Hawkeye power. So he thought it best to leave his baby at home for now and bring the ever sturdy and true rifle.
He waited for the perfect chance, and when it finally came along he had to smirk to himself. The trigger pulled, and the bullet flew true, straight through two men's throats before embedding itself into the skull of a third man. They all lined up perfectly for him to take the shot, and their body's crumpled to the ground before anyone knew what had actually happened.
Everyone paused, even Natasha did. She shot him a glance, her voice coming over breathless over the comms a second later.
'Clint..'
He smirked at her and shot her a wink before using his momentum from a swing to climb back onto the beam. He landed in a crouch and repositioned the rifle onto his back before continuing in a sprint along the roof top supports.
"You can handle the rest of them, Tash! I'm going on an adventure!" He wouldn't realise until later why her voice sounded breathless. Not from over exertion through the fight, but because of the same reason she had shot him surprised eyes when the bodies of the dead men fell.
He continued on down the hall, giving a quick wave to Thor as he passed the Gods corridor. Even Clint knew better than to try help Thor! The Thunderer got pissy with anyone who took even half an enemy from him!
"Wooooooow now." He muttered to himself, skidding to a halt for a moment as he passed a row of doors. He was making his way towards the back of the of the castle where he knew all the good stuff was, but never before had he seen a door with an electronic lock on it. He could safely say himself and Natasha had busted down every single door in the place at one time or another looking for Doom, so either he somehow hid this one from him each and every time - completely possible- or it was new - also completely possible.
He glanced around for a moment and pouted to himself. Whatever was inside it was something Doom wanted kept to himself and whoever the hell knew the code to the place; because there were three cameras pointing at the damn thing - one in each corner and another right above the door. Clint wanted in!
He took the glock that was strapped to his hip and fired three shots, each hitting one camera and leaving the little devices as destroyed heaps of plastic and wires.
"Hit me with your best shot~" He sang to himself with a smirk, bending his knees slightly to jump from the beam. He caught the edge of it with one hand so his landing would be a little softer before he fell to his feet on the floor. "Fire away~"
'No singing!' Tony barked down the comms, and Clint had to laugh. It always did annoy the billionaire!
"Found something. Going exploring." He said softly into the feed, going flush against the wall with his glock still drawn and ready.
'What and where?' Steve asked pretty much as soon as the words were out of Clint's mouth. The archer shrugged.
"Not a clue and somewhere in the south-west sector. Has a keypad lock, Cap. Has to be something good."
'Careful. I'm two minutes from your location, be there in a moment. Hold your ground.'
"Not a chance, Cap!" Clint grinned, already eyeing up the keypad to see which buttons had been used most. He guessed that one wrong entry would set off a worse alarm than the one that was still killing his ears, so he'd have to be careful. "I've already taken out the cameras. I have maybe a minute at most before guards arrive."
'Idiot..' He heard Bucky sigh down the line. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen the soldier as he went around. Either he was really good at hiding, or they didn't want Clint seeing him.. He'd bet anything that Bucky's job was Clint watch..
'I'm a half minute out, Clint.' Tony's voice came through this time. 'You head in, I'll follow.'
Clint hummed a mhm down to the team before plugging in the only logical sequence of numbers from the 4 most used ones. The same code they used to crack Dooms data files a few years ago. This wasn't new, so he definitely hid the room somehow when Natasha and Clint would be on their way.
"Going dark." He said calmly down the comms, turning them off then just incase. It was standard when entering an unknown place to go dark, just incase something inside the room could intercept frequencies and hi-jack them.
Gun raised, eyes trained, he entered the room once the door popped open. It was dark inside, the only light being the tiny little sliver streaming in through the barely opened door.
He didn't know what kind of room it was. Looking around revealed rows and rows of metal shelves, holding different jars and bottles filled with who knows what. There was a low hum coming from somewhere, a generator if he didn't know any better. He didn't know why a storage room would need something like that, unless it was a utility room aswell and there was just a lock on the door so no one could come mess with the power to the place.
Dammit, that's all it was.
He sighed and shook his head halfway through the rows of shelves, dropping his weapon to his side so he could turn his comms back on.
"False alarm. Just a utility room." He sighed down the device, eyeing a bottle of iodine on the shelf infront of him. "Want me to cut the power, think I found the generator. Might get rid of that alarm sound for go-"
A scream cut his words short and caused him to raise his gun once again. He turned on the spot a few times, trying to pin point the direction of the voice he was hearing. It was begging, pleading, wishing for something to stop. But Clint didn't know how to stop it, nor what the raspy voice even wanted stopped.
'Clint? That you?' Stark asked quickly, sounding a little panicked if Clint didn't know any better.
"Not me, Tony." Clint whispered, gun trained infront of him as he quietly stalked the room. "I don't know who or what it was.."
He could feel the control slipping, could feel the walls in his mind breaking down as his grip on his weapon tightened. He was losing it, like the other times, like the times he couldn't control a situation, and he knew that never ended well.
The further into the room he went, oddly enough the brighter it started to become. Soon enough, he found out why; at the very back of the room hung a lone light bulb from the ceiling. Below it made Clint's temperature rise to levels he hadn't felt since getting the serum injected in the first place.
It had to be a kid. He had to be no older than 16 or 17. He was strapped to a bed by his hands and ankles. Clint couldn't tell where the blood was coming from - just everywhere - covering the metal table beneath him in a horrible sticky mess. The hum was coming from something much worse than a generator, it was coming from a little motor on the side of the metal bed that was sending wires to a strap across his chest. Electrocution, Clint would know the smell of charred electrocuted flesh anywhere.
The kid was just about conscious, his slitted dead eyes starting at Clint as his chest rose and fell at worrying speed.
"Hey, hey it's ok." Clint whispered with a slight smile, lowering the gun to let the kid know he wasn't here to hurt him. "I'm gonna get you out, ok?"
'Clint, on your six. Where are you?' Stark came through. He could hear the mechanical suit, he must have just entered the room.
"Back of the room. We have an injured kid, needs medical bad." Clint replied quickly, working first and foremost on removing the electrodes incase they were on a timer and would electrocute him again.
A noise.
Someone hit off one of the metal shelves hiding the area, causing the glass jars to rattle off against eachother. He ignored Stark's and Rogers' voices as he watched, waiting, gun trained to protect the kid.
A moment, then two, he held up a fist to stop Tony advancing when he was close enough to see the archer and he could just about hear the mechanical suit backing away from range.
Patiently, he waited. Soon enough, a shadow finally caught his eye and he rushed over to the other side of the table to push a cabinet out of the way.
Behind it, cowering in a ball on the floor, was a white haired, speckled eyed scientist. He only knew that because he had a white lab coat on, the damn thing covered in specks of blood.
It was a good thing he was cowering, a wise thing, because Clint was about to kill him.
"The fuck are you?" Clint growled, earning a squeal from the man before a sob as he aimed the gun at his head.
"Please! I was just following orders!" He sobbed out, his hands covering his head as if that would stop a bullet from blasting his brains out from this range.
Clint growled once more and reached out to grab the mans collar, his hand glowing orange as he pulled the man out to the little clearing. He scrambled to his knees, still sobbing as he landed in a begging position infront of Clint. His arms remained unmoving in their aiming of the glock.
"What's been done to him?" Clint asked lowly, cocking the gun to get ready to fire at the first hint of a lie. "Why the fuck is he strapped to a table?"
"Doom's idea!" The man squealed. His eyes hadn't left the barrel of Clint's gun. "H-he heard about Hydra, AIM, hell even Tony Stark experimenting! He wanted in on the game!"
Experimenting..
Clint paled.
This kid was going through that hell!? Who even was he? Did Doom just pick him up off the street like the circus did Clint? Or did he volunteer like Pietro and Wanda did? Whatever it was, this guy was going to hell for putting the kid through such pain.
"What were you doing?" Clint's voice was getting dangerous. His mind was telling him to shoot, to kill every last bastard in the place and laugh as they're brought to hell. His heart was giving out hell to him though, and he couldn't figure out why.
"Clint." He looked up at Tony's voice, the billionaire in the Iron Man suit standing on the opposite side of Clint with his face mask up. "Drop the gun."
"What?" Clint spat. He couldn't mean that! He jabbed the barrel of the gun against the mans head with a growl. "Tony, do you know what he's done!?"
"Doom's done." Tony said carefully, his hands raising in surrender. How angry was Clint getting if even Tony was scared..? "He's just following orders.."
"He has a choice!" Clint yelled, finger ghosting over the trigger. He ignored the man's begging.
"So do you." Tony replied softly, taking a tentative step forward.
"I know. And I've decided to rid the world of another monster!" Clint smirked, applying the slightest bit of pressure to the trigger before he was knocked off his feet.
He didn't even notice Bucky come into the room! He was too focused on getting rid of the scum still kneeling on the floor. He didn't notice the sniper until he was tackled to the floor by him, gun clattering harmlessly away from him as Barnes sat on his back to restrain him.
"Get off!" Clint yelled, trying his best to buck his body in such a way that would get the soldier off his back. No luck though, never any luck in out matching Bucky.
"Calm down." Barnes said in his ear, but it just managed to piss the archer off more. His temperature was way too hot now, he was starting to feel it actually burn him.
"You calm down!" Clint spat back. Childish? Nah! "Buck, you don't know what he's done! Look at that kid! We have to get rid of them all, fuck them all, fuck their choices, fuck Doom, this is too far!"
"Clint!" Tony's yell cut off his little rant before he even got going. Stark was kneeling down infront of Clint's face, looking him right in the eye with a frown. "You need to calm down, ok? You're not you right now."
Not you..? The fuck was that supposed to mean!? He was taking out scum like this since before Tony even thought of being a hero! This is who he is!
"Killing innocent guards, Clint. You never do that." Tony said a little quieter, his eyes softening. "Wanting to kill a man in cold blood, getting so angry that you can't control your thoughts, recklessly running into things, thinking yourself above them, not taking a mission seriously.. Clint, don't turn into Doom."
Don't turn into Doom..
His eyes went wide at those words, his body going completely still as they sank into his brain. They swam around his system, each time they hit a new nerve his body would tense more and more until he felt like getting sick.
Shit..
Killing innocent people, not giving a damn about the health or welfare of anyone else once his own goals were achieved, laughing at an enemy's pain and suffering..
That's what Clint had done this whole mission. That's what Doom's done the entire time Clint's known about him.
Shit.. He wasn't a hero anymore..
He was one of the people he hunted, the people he rid the world of.. He was what he never wanted to be, what he tried for years to avoid becoming..
He was no hero.. He was a damn villain..
