AN: Yeh, my ability to update is still sporadic, but I swear the 'verse has it in for me! Enjoy!
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BANG!
Jack was up and running before he even realised what he had heard. He was half way across the front lawn when someone tackled him to the ground. The resounding crack of broken bone followed quickly by Jack's scream.
"Wrong house, kid," growled a voice in Jack's ear as he was suddenly jerked upright.
"No," growled Jack through clenched teeth.
"Yeh."
"You took my mom."
The guy holding him started to laugh, "Oh Niko's gonna love this."
"Look-y what I found boss," called the guy holding Jack as he propelled him into the house and towards the front room.
"Mom?" whispered Jack as he looked at the un-moving body of Tess Draven, blood seeping into the carpet from where a single bullet had entered her chest.
"Jackey-boy, so nice of you to join us," smiled Niko. "Have a seat."
The guy holding Jack pushed him onto the nearest couch, a hand kept on his shoulder to keep him still. Jack's eyes never left the body of his mom, her unseeing eyes looking right at him. He didn't even feel the pain in his arm anymore.
"Leave him alone Niko, he's just a kid," sighed Clint from where he slowly pushed himself up off the floor. His ribs screaming at him from where Niko had kicked him repeatedly after he'd shot Tess. Clint was still reeling from the shock that he wasn't the one with a bullet in his chest. Niko had given him no warning. One moment Clint was staring up at the barrel of the gun, the next Tess was dead.
Niko had moved that fast. There was nothing that Clint could have done, he knew that. You couldn't save everybody, hell most people didn't want to be saved and Clint was no hero. He wasn't a good guy. So why did he feel so guilty?
Niko ignored him as he sat down beside Jack, draping his arm around the boy's shoulders. "I know this must be tough. I lost my mom when I was about your age too."
Clint watched as tears started to run silently down Jack's cheeks. "Yeah, did some asshole shoot her too?" Growled Jack with false bravado his eyes never leaving the body of his mom.
Niko chuckled slightly as he bounced to his feet again, nudging Tess's body with his toe. "No. I believe my farther shot her when he found her in bed with another man." Niko turned back to face Jack, still grinning. "Now you have a choice to make, you can either work for me. You're a good size to be one of my runners. Or-"
"I'd rather die than work for you!" spat Jack as he tore his eyes away from his mom for the first time. He glared up at Niko. If looks could kill, Niko would have stopped breathing before his body hit the floor.
"Okay then," smirked Niko as he aimed his gun at Jack, the guy holding Jack let go of him and put some distance between himself and the boy.
At that moment Clint leaped up from his position on the floor, pushing all the pain in his body to the back of his mind. He barreled into Niko knocking him to the ground.
"Jack, get down," ordered Clint as he pulled out the gun from his shoulder holster he had on under his jacket. This was how overconfident Niko and his goons were. They hadn't even frisked him.
Firing off four quick shots, one entered into each of the heads of Niko's remaining flunkies in the room before any of them had even had the chance to raise their own guns let alone aim.
Before Clint could turn back and shoot Niko gunshots sounded from outside of the house, the windowpanes shattered and glass flew through the air slicing into anything that got in the way. Clint dived to the floor, taking Jack with him who was still sitting on the chair, having not listened to the order Clint had shouted.
Shielding Jack with his own body Clint waited until the gunfire had stopped.
"You okay? Jack are you hurt?" asked Clint pushing up onto his elbows so he wasn't crushing the boy. His own pain forgotten as he focused on the problem at hand.
Jack shook his head in response. His eyes squeezed tightly shut as he cradled his broken arm.
"Good. Now stay here. Do not move until I come back, understand? Do you understand?"
Jack nodded as he curled up on his side and watched Clint get to his knees, and crawl until he was below the windowsill.
Looking out onto the front lawn Clint could only see one guy attempting to reload his automatic weapon. Raising his gun, Clint fired one shot, taking the guy down with a head shot. That guy deserved to die, what kind of moron chooses to fire a weapon that he couldn't reload within mere seconds? Amateurs.
Turning around Clint realised that the room was now empty. Other than Jack curled up on the floor and the multiple dead bodies, Niko was gone.
"Stay there," reiterated Clint as he got up off the floor and followed the bloody footprints out of the room and to the back of the house, his weapon raised in front of him. It looked like Niko was hurt. Good.
Suddenly Clint found his gun flying out of his hands again as a fist struck the back of his wrist. On instinct Clint was already pulling out his last remaining knife before the gun hit the floor. The blade that came towards him was blocked by his own blade before it made contact with his skin.
"A kitchen knife? That is so uncouth," smirked Clint inches away from Niko. The only thing between them was the two blades.
"Uncouth? Big word for a high school drop-out," growled Niko as he tried to use his bigger bulk to gain an advantage.
"I never dropped out," smiled Clint. "In fact, I never went at all." Clint kicked out, his foot connecting with Niko's stomach causing him to stumble back several feet. "Now, where's my bow?"
"That's all you wanted? A piece of wood?"
"Carbon, you dumb shit," corrected Clint as he ducked to avoid the flying plate Niko threw at him. "Really? Plates Niko? That's so domesticated of you."
"You little shit! You think you're better than me!" screamed Niko as he threw another plate.
"No, I know I am," huffed Clint as he caught the next plate that came flying towards him. "I never miss." Throwing the plate back at Niko it hit him right between the eyes. Niko dropped the plate he was holding as he gripped his head in pain. Not waiting for Niko to recover Clint dived across the kitchen table, spinning halfway across he arched his body so that his foot connected with Niko's jaw knocking him backwards into the kitchen shelves.
"You know what you're biggest mistake was tonight?" asked Clint as he delivered a quick punch to Niko's solar plexus. "And no it wasn't stealing my bow, though that was pretty dumb." Clint delivered another punch to Niko. "No, your biggest mistake was thinking that you would be safe in your own home." Clint used his knee this time to connect with Niko's stomach, letting the bigger man drop to the floor. "Now, where's my bow?"
"Go...fuck yourself!" Niko lunged upwards grabbing Clint around the waist and raising him off his feet before slamming him down on the kitchen table which splintered beneath his back. Clint's head connecting with the floor, his vision becoming occluded by gray spots. He blinked rapidly realising at the last moment that the shiny thing coming towards him was the kitchen knife Niko had gotten a hold of again.
Clint raised his left arm to block the blade coming down and piercing his throat. He couldn't hold back the scream as the sharp edge sliced through his forearm. His right hand coming up to grab Niko's wrist and further stop the trajectory.
"That's right, scream for me," grinned Niko manically, spit landing on Clint's face.
"That...is...just...too weird" growled Clint, the effort of holding Niko back was taking it's toll on him.
The knife Niko held was getting closer and closer to Clint's neck. This struggle was all strength and Niko outweighed Clint by several pounds. If they kept this up Niko was going to win and there was no prize for second place.
Clint grunted under the strain as he moved his left arm out of the way, having to use only his right arm to hold Niko back. He groped around the floor for his fallen knife that he'd dropped when he'd crashed into the table. The knife Niko had getting closer and closer to him until the tip touched his skin. Still trying to push back, Clint tried to buck his body to dislodge Niko from pinning him down. But all he accomplished was the knife sliding into his shoulder in agonizing slow motion.
Screaming in frustration his left fist clenched around something sharp that sliced through his hand. Not caring what he had a hold of Clint thrust upwards with the object and into Niko's side.
Niko's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden move, he reared upwards pulling out the blade from Clint's shoulder. Clint let go of the object he had stabbed Niko with which turned out to be a shard from one of the broken plates Niko had thrown at him. Clint scrambled backwards out of Niko's reach.
"You little-"
"Shit, I know," interrupted Clint as he watched Niko collapse onto his side as he desperately tried to stem the blood flow gushing from the wound.
Clint just watched, that was a killing blow. The improvised weapon had gone straight into Niko's liver. The amount of blood Niko was loosing meant he'd be dead within minutes. Even when he wasn't aiming properly, Clint still didn't miss. Maybe one day that would bother him, but not today.
"Is he dead?" asked Jack from the doorway.
Clint rolled his eyes at the young boy. "I thought I told you to stay put, twice?"
"Is he dead?" repeated Jack.
"Not yet," sighed Clint as he pulled himself up to his feet, every bruise and pulled muscle making itself known. Gripping the wound in his shoulder tightly as blood dribbled around his fingers.
Jack walked forward until he was standing over Niko.
"You killed my mom," said Jack as he pointed a gun down at Niko.
"Jack, don't do it," warned Clint. "He's dead anyway." Where in the hell had he got a gun from? Again?
"He killed my mom."
"He did. But you pulling that trigger won't bring her back."
"No, but it'll make me feel better." Jack's hand was shaking so much Clint wasn't sure that even if he did pull the trigger that the kid would actually hit what he wanted.
"Trust me on this, kid. It might make you feel better right now. But further down the line you'll feel differently about it."
"I don't care."
"Jack, Jack look at me," pleaded Clint as he moved so that he was standing in front of Jack. The only thing between them was Niko's nearly dead body. "Look at me Jack, you don't want to do this. You're not a killer." God, please don't do this. He did not want the kid to turn out like him.
"Yes, I do." Jack pulled the trigger until the gun clicked empty.
Clint sighed as Jack continued to dry fire the gun. When it looked like Jack wasn't going to stop on his own Clint reached over and gently took the gun out of Jack's hand. There were no tears now. "Time to go, Jack."
"What about my mom?" asked Jack quietly without looking up, all his focus still on Niko. Or what was left of him.
"I'm sorry, but we can't take her with us."
"But..."
"The cops will be here soo-"
As if on cue the sound of sirens could be heard from outside. Clint sighed as he looked up at the ceiling, this day could not get any worse. All he had wanted when he had come back to Baltimore was his bow. Why did shit like this have to happen to him?
"New plan, Jack you go out the back door. There's a bus stop two roads over on the corner. I'll meet you there."
"Aren't you coming?" asked Jack tearing his eyes away from Niko's body and looking up at Clint.
"Yes, but there's something I need to do first. Now go," ordered Clint. Hoping that Jack will do as he's told for the first time since this fiasco started.
Pushing Jack out the back door, Clint picked up a t-towel and padded it under his shirt to try and stem the bleeding. He then went to retrieve his weapons from the bodies before going in search of his bow. He'd be damned after all this if he left that here.
"This is the police, come out with your hands up," shouted a man from outside with what sounded like the use of a megaphone. Clint couldn't help but roll his eyes at the predictability of them. Ignoring the continued calls, Clint carried on searching. Two minutes later he'd found what he was looking for.
"Ah hello baby, I swear I'll never leave you again!" Picking up his bow from where it had been tossed in the corner of a back room like a piece of trash Clint kissed the riser before making his way back to the kitchen. He was just about to leave through the back door, when the phone attached to the wall started to ring. Great, now the police wanted to negotiate, which would probably mean that SWAT was out there and ready to storm the place.
Looking around the kitchen his eyes rested on Niko's body. There was way too much evidence that could link him to this, he did not need that kind of attention. There was only one option left. He was going to blow the place sky high.
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"Hey Coulson, I got something you might like to see," called Phelps as he chased Coulson down the corridor.
Coulson arched an eyebrow in question as he turned around to see the eager younger agent running towards him.
"So it's not for definite, but I think that's the work of your boy," shrugged Phelps as he handed a file to Coulson.
"Why do you say that?" asked Coulson as he looked at the forensic pictures taken at a crime scene.
"That's Niko Moretti's house, or what's left of it. I did some digging and it turns out Barton and Niko didn't like each other."
"Barton doesn't like a lot of people, why do you think this is him?"
"True, but look at the precision of the head shots. How many people can you name that can do that?"
"All but one of these bodies are burnt to a crisp, how can you tell anything?" asked Coulson as he flipped through the photographs.
"Coroner's report," shrugged Phelps. Precision head shots, except for the woman and the most burnt body which is just mangled, which is also Moretti."
"Mangled?" asked Coulson, skepticism showing through.
"Knife wound to the liver and eleven rounds to the head, chest and abdomen."
"That's a lot of rage," sighed Coulson. Had he been that wrong about Barton? "What else have you got?" He wanted more proof if he was going to condemn the kid he had set out to offer a second chance at living to. A chance to be saved.
"Errr, nothing. I was able to track Barton to Grand Central Station but then I lost him," shrugged Phelps. "Some rumors and vague descriptions after that. Sir, if you don't mind me asking but are you sure that come Wednesday Barton will be sitting on that terrace?"
"Honestly, when it comes to Clint Barton I'm not sure about anything."
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AN: So it's been a tough couple of weeks. There was an unexpected death in the family which sent my parents and siblings into a tailspin while I tried to pick up the pieces and keep everything together with nothing more than duct tape and tea! This resulted in me re-writing my original chapter 11 where I Clint went from being alive to very, very dead! (Yeah, don't shoot me!) I then re-wrote the chapter again and you received a slightly whumped Clint instead! Be happy! Life is too short to worry about the what- ifs and the maybes!
Philosophy class aside - Marvel's Agent's of S.H.I.E.L.D - cheesy as hell, but laugh out loud funny! I am liking.
Also, I did plan to have the scene of Clint blowing the house up in this chapter but it felt right to end where I did and add in the Coulson/Phelps scene. (Also the way my moods are swinging I might have ended up blowing Clint up just for the hell of it...) Anyway, would you like that scene in the next chapter or do you just want me to get on with the show?