This story is combining the comics (2012) and mcu Hawkeye.
I also really like the idea that Clint and Natasha are pretty young during the battle of New York, like around 26. I know his actor is older, but I've always imagined comic Clint being quite young. So in this story Clint and Laura are about twenty. Yeah, they're young, they're babies, but I felt like getting married young was just suited the tone of their relationship, I guess. (Or the idea is completely ridiculous, I'm not very confident on it given I have absolutely no experience to draw from)
A lot of my inspiration for Laura comes from Sister in Arms by SETI-fan. (It's an amazing story, I highly recommend reading it) I have made her my own, or as much as she can be given she belongs to the mcu, but I immediately started writing this story after I read that fic, so it's probably influenced the story a lot.
I really like the idea that Clint met Laura because she was on the wrong side of a mission. So, she knows a few things, and Clint's lifestyle doesn't throw her. I also strongly believe that any woman who spends time around Clint, let alone have a relationship with him, has to have a unique sense of humour. I have thoughts okay, but I'll stop for now.
They swore they were going to take it slow. They did.
They really did.
But Clint has always been terrible at planning; has always had the worst timing. At this point it was probably a curse.
So it only made sense that the second he pulled out the ring that the window shattered in a spray of bullets and glass.
He pulls Laura behind the counter and grabs a knife off the rack, flipping it in his hand.
A figure dressed in black- black is such a stupid color- repels into the room, boots crushing the glass beneath them.
Laura reaches to the wall and flicks off the lights. Smart move. This is one of the many reasons he loves her.
He palms the ring in his hand, and takes a step back. The intruder raises a gun and Clint flicks the ring, hitting the masked assailant in the eye.
He falls to his knees, screaming.
This is why he always has goggles or at least sunglasses. What kind of idiot wears a mask and not goggles?
Two other intruders swing in, but they go down quickly, one with a knife in the gut, the other with a well placed kick from Laura and a dinner plate shattering over the assailant's head.
Spaghetti dangles from his hair.
Not the spaghetti!
He worked so hard on it.
Clint sighs and takes a napkin from the table.
He pulls the ring out of the guys ewewew- eye- and stuffs it in his pocket hoping Laura doesn't-yep she definitely noticed.
A cup shatters from another bullet, and Clint grabs Laura's hand pulling her out the apartment door.
"Man these guys have terrible aim!"
Laura, the most wonderful woman of his life, ever, laughs- ignoring the thundering footsteps behind them.
They make it down to the second floor before they're blocked in.
Okay! New plan! Clint really hopes no one is home. He kicks in the door of a-fortunately- empty apartment, bolting it shut behind them.
He glances out the window.
Laura notices. "Cliiint! Don't you dare!"
"Do you trust me?"
"NO!"
He picks up a chair, throwing it at the glass,
Laura takes his outstretched hand anyway.
The door crashes open and he tugs Laura, sprinting straight towards the window.
He really hopes the bird name counts for something.
Laura screams and he manages to wrap his arms around her, so she's pressed against his chest.
The ground is coming way too fast.
Waaay too fa-
"-int! Clint, get up!" She gently slaps his cheek.
He groans and rolls off the top of the car staggering to his feet.
"Oww."
Laura slides off the car, wincing.
"You-"
He coughs, and tries to ignore the metallic taste in his mouth, ooh that's not good.
"-You hurt?"
"I can walk."
He catches his breath and grabs her hand again.
One step and Laura gasps, her knee buckling.
"Okay, can't walk."
She glares at him.
He goes to pick her up but gasps and almost drops her. His ribs are screaming.
She smacks him.
"Sorry." He sets her down, and reaches into his pocket.
He smiles and starts picking the lock on the next car over.
"Take a picture of the license plate," Clint gestures to the car with the dented roof. Boss Man will refund them.
He has the engine hotwired by the time Laura slides into the passenger seat.
The engine groans as he punches on the gas, tearing into traffic. He reaches into his pocket and tosses his phone to her.
"Call Boss Man, tell him I'm an idiot and need backup."
Phil Coulson smiles as the cellist starts playing, the low tones of the instrument adding depth to the music.
His phone vibrates soundlessly in his pocket, and he pulls it out glancing at the caller ID. Few people have his personal number.
Crow Boy.
He frowns and stands up, hurrying out of the row of seats. People mutter and glare at him and he passes.
He answers as soon as he's in the lobby, walking out to his car.
"Coulson."
"Uh, hi, a distinctly feminine voice says, I'm with Clint, he wants you to know he's an idiot-"
"I didn't mean that literally."
"Shush."
He starts sprinting to his car
"-We need backup. We're currently in a car chase-"
Seriously Barton?
"-Just passed seventh avenue, we're headed for 1600 north."
"I'll get right on it- stay on the line," Phil mutes his end of the call and pulls out his untraceable phone, immediately dispatching a team.
Laura's head hits the window as Clint whips around a corner, almost colliding with incoming traffic.
A bullet goes through the windshield and he swerves; the same time a van rams into the car from behind.
The car turns sideways and another van hits the side of the car.
She screams as he jerks forward into the steering wheel, flipping through the windshield, and rolls limp on the pavement.
The car begins spinning and she jumps into the driver's seat, gripping the wheel with one hand while fumbling for the seatbelt.
The car starts tipping and Laura squeezes her eyes shut, knowing there's no point in keeping her eyes on the road if the wheels are in the air.
Laura comes to quickly, at least is pretty sure she has, and is immediately grateful that she risked putting on her seatbelt. She would have been dead like…
"Clint!"
She unbuckles her seatbelt and scrambles to right herself on the roof of the car, peering out the shattered windshield.
Clint is throwing punches, dancing around a tall figure in a trench coat. His movements are pained, lacking the unusual grace he normally carries.
Laura crawls out the windshield, doing her best to be careful of the glass, but knows she gets cut anyway.
Her eyes fix on a gun a few feet away.
Laura creeps away from the car at a slow crawl, keeping her eyes trained on the fight going on in front of her.
Clint stumbles from a punch to his side, and the man in the trench coat sweeps his feet out from under him.
Clint drops heavily to his knees with a grunt.
The man grins and reaches into the quiver on his back, Clint's quiver. No bow in sight.
She dives forward and grabs the gun-
The man lunges forward.
Clint screams.
She shoots the man in the thigh, and he yanks the arrows out of Clint's ears, spinning around and barring his teeth at her.
His face is painted white, with a black tear under his eye.
Laura scrambles to her feet and pulls the trigger again.
It clicks.
A black vehicle pulls up screeching to a stop a few yards away.
Laura snarls-
Two S.H.I.E.L.D Agents with their guns raised run forward-
And chucks the gun into the clown's forehead. He crumples to the ground before the agents move.
Laura steels herself and limps to Clint's side.
Blood is splattered beneath his head, the shoulders of his rumpled suit jacket soaked in it.
She can't even see his skin beneath the blood covering his ears.
She drops to the ground, and bites her tongue at the pain shooting through her leg.
Laura cups his head, and gently pulls him into her lap, resting his head and shoulders on her legs. Even though he's unconscious, she puts a comforting hand on his brow, and the other on his chest. Laura affirms that his heart is still beating before she looks up at the two uniformed SHIELD agents.
One is speaking into an earpiece and the other walks towards her.
"Agent Rumlow, FBI," He introduces himself, holding up a badge.
"Laura. How soon can an ambulance get here?"
The agent glances back at his partner and they make a gesture.
"Two minutes… I don't think I've ever seen a gun used like that before."
She nods and runs her fingers through Clint's hair.
A hand gently sets on her shoulder. "Hey, I need you to stay with me, the medics are almost here. Are you injured?"
She nods. "Broken ankle, I think, probably sprained my knee too."
"That's it?"
She sighs. "Apparently Clint thinks he's a human beanbag."
The agent crouches down and meets her eyes, probably looking for signs of a head injury.
She shakes her head and starts to explain. "We jumped out a second story window- he cushioned my fall… onto a car."
Rumlow winces. He blows out. "This will be an interesting report to write up."
With Clint aren't they always? She keeps that thought to herself. She doesn't want S.H.I.E.L.D knowing anything more about their relationship than they have to.
Laura gets up when she sees the ambulance lights flashing in the distance.
"Hold on, I need to get something from the car."
Agent Rumlow watches as the young woman limps back to the car.
She reaches to the floor, and grabs what he assumes is Clint's phone.
She pauses, seemingly staring at the seat and-
Rips the seatbelt from the doorway.
She walks back to him and holds it up.
"He forgot this."
An ambulance pulls up and the back doors are thrown open. Laura makes to stand beside the doors, but Rumlow grabs her arm.
"He'll be fine, I need you to stay here and ask you some questions."
She shrugs him off and gestures to her swelling ankle and knee.
Rumlow doesn't look happy but Laura doesn't care and climbs into the ambulance after Clint's stretcher is loaded in.
Laura doesn't say anything more than she has to. She and Clint had decided early on that S.H.I.E.L.D didn't need to know about their relationship. It would make this situation more complicated if she admitted that she knew about S.H.I.E.L.D and has worked with them before, so she keeps quiet and watches the medics work.
Air is being blown into his nose. Everything is blurred like he's looking through a tunnel. That means surgery.
Clint hates surgery.
It's quiet, he hears no nurses or doctors talking.
Or machines.
Or lights buzzing.
No footsteps or whispers or Laura talk-
Laura.
Laura. Where is she?
His eyes are fully open and he goes to detach himself from various machines and an IV.
Hands are suddenly on his shoulders.
Clint jerks and a familiar face comes into view.
Phil. Boss Man.
His mouth is moving but Clint doesn't understand what he's saying.
No.
He can't hear him.
Or anything.
He can't hear.
Why can't he hear anything?
Worry about that later, first-
"Is Laura okay?"
Phil adjusts the bed so he's sitting up slightly.
"She's not in serious condition. A few broken bones, bruises, cuts. Nothing near your average injuries."
He blinks in surprise at his fluent signing.
"A useful language to know when you're a spy." Phil says, turning Clint's own reasoning back on him.
"I'm not that bad."
Phil pauses. "Clint, you're on heavy pain medications, I don't know what you said."
Oh. He huffs and looks up at the ceiling, resolutely not saying anything. Speaking or otherwise.
Phil waves a hand in his peripheral vision and he glares over at him.
"Fine, be stubborn. You're good at it. I'll do the talking."
Clint, being the adult he is, sticks his tongue out.
Phil visibly sighs before he continues.
"Your aggressor is in custody, thanks to Miss Martinelli. According to the agents that picked you up, she ran out of bullets so she threw the gun at his head, knocking him unconscious."
The corners of his mouth twitch, but Clint stubbornly doesn't react."
"Why were you attacked?
Clint clenches his jaw, but Boss Man is prepared and hands him a notebook and pen.
"Talk."
'Okay, his name is the clown, stupid, but that's what the tracksuit bros call him. The tracksuits were the ones that hired this guy, pretty sure…'
Phil rolls with the nicknames. "Why did the tracksuit bros try to have you killed?"
'Short or long story?'
"Informative."
'The head bro owned my apartment building, he was raising the rent to ridiculous numbers and forcibly removing tenants….
It's a rougher part of town, beat up building, the tenants don't have that kind of money, and nowhere else to go. So…
I bought the building.'
Phil's face is void of expression, but he leans back in his chair.
'I might've made them let me buy the building, but they hit Pizza dog and then threw him into the road where he got run over, so the tracksuits definitely deserved it.
Anyways, they weren't happy- also because Head Bro thought I slept with his daughter- I didn't- just took her on a date…or ten- so they've been… visiting.
Last time all the tracksuits came, but we chased them off, I thought for good. Apparently not, because they were there backing up Clown when he attacked. So, yeah. Almost got killed, again.
I also almost got my girlfri-'
He cuts off and slams down the pen, pushing the paper away.
Phil had been reading as Clint wrote, so he settles back in his chair and looks at him.
"So, to clear the details. You live in an apartment owed by the Martinelli mob-"
"I didn't know when I moved in!" Clint snaps his mouth shut and glares at Phil.
"An apartment which you now own -where you got the funds I won't even ask- and the mob has been targeting you because you are dating one of their own."
'Laura's not with them. And- we don't live together so they had no idea about us until they attacked the apartment the first time.'
"So the mob was targeting you because you coerced them into letting you buy the apartment from them."
'They tried to kill Pizza Dog!'
"Is this a person or an actual dog?"
'Dog.'
"So you went through all of this- boardline if not completely illegal- chaos, because of a dog."
'…maybe. No. These people- the tenants- that apartment was like- I dunno, mine. It was mine to look after, people to protect and just…Take care of.'
A look of understanding crosses Phil's face, he shakes his head. "You are lucky Fury likes you so much."
'He likes my accuracy, I'm pretty sure I make him regret letting me live.'
Phil chuckles. "I think that is why he likes you. You remind him to look at unusual options." He changes gears.
"This should be able to be cleaned up, with Laura Martinelli in our witness protection program, and the Martinelli mob attacking you while she was there, any legal issues can be written off. However-"
Clint scrunches his nose
"You have blatantly affiliated with someone you are supposed to have no contact with, given you were on the original Martinelli case." Phil sighs. "This is a legal matter Clint, but we're not in the business of letting our best agents go. I pulled some strings, so you have some options. You stay with S.H.I.E.L.D. and go on parole until you test up again, which you will have to do anyway given your injuries. Or," He pauses but keeps going, "You can leave S.H.I.E.L.D and remain in a relationship with Miss Martinelli. Let me know what your decision is."
Phil stands, pats him on the shoulder and leaves the room.
Laura or S.H.I.E.L.D!
He can't- he can't choose. He loves his job, and he's pretty sure he'd be arrested and thrown in prison if he left S.H.I.E.L.D.'s protection. But- Laura.
Laura is the first person he's connected with in years, if not ever. Besides Boss Man.
But this is different. She's not his superior, she's just- Laura. And he's just Clint. He was asking her to marry him. But…
He can't, can he? Not because of S.H.I.E.L.D., but because he'd put her in too much danger. It's obvious now. He can't bring her into his life. If he does she'll be killed and it will be his fault.
A few days and many doctors later…
There's motion at the door and he looks up.
Laura is standing in the doorway, a slim box in her hands.
He waves her in and she smiles, sitting in a chair beside him.
She slides the simply wrapped box to him, and he looks up, studying her face.
She gives nothing away.
"Open it. It's a get well present," She signs. Apparently those college classes are good for something besides debt.
He shrugs and rips off the brown paper, opening the lid of a shoe box.
He stares at the seatbelt.
He meets her eyes with a glare, she smiles at him demurely.
"You forgot that."
"We were in the middle of a car chase!" He says.
"And what happened?"
"…I got thrown out the windshield," He grumbles. He sticks out his tongue, but drops the act, and looks down, tugging at the sheets.
"Laura…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
She moves from the chair and sits on the side of the bed. I know.
He shakes his head. "This isn't fair to you."
"Clint-"
"No, let me- let me finish. Because of what I did, my actions and the choices I made, you could have been killed. Your relatives know where you are, and that you have a relationship with me. I- I'm a danger to you. I can't-" His voice breaks.
"I can't be the one that gets you killed."
She places her hand on his arm and he looks up, his tear filled eyes meeting hers. "Let me have my say, and then we'll make a decision, okay?"
He nods.
"I know that your life is incredibly dangerous, and that as a part of your life, I am at risk. But here's the thing- I already am. My own father leads a mob, I grew up around illegal dealings, I participated in them, knowingly and unknowingly. Without S.H.I.E.L.D.'s protection, my relatives will catch up with me, maybe they still will. That or the police definitely have enough on me to get me thrown in prison."
"You didn't have a choice!"
She squeezes his arm and then continues. "This relationship works because we lead similar lives. Without S.H.I.E.L.D. we're both done for. But it also works because we love each other. Clint, honestly, as you've said many times, you are a bit of a disaster. You act before you think. And it's one of the reasons I love you. It's your instinct to help and protect people, you don't have to think about it, you just do it. This works. We work."
He looks away. "I can't be the one to get you killed."
She draws his attention away from the wall. "I'm not saying there isn't room to grow, for both of us. But that's a part of life, right?"
"Yeah…Laura, I don't want to end this, I mean, I think that was obvious earlier. But- I can't make you stay. And I don't blame you if you want-"
She stops his hands, pulling them to her chest.
"Clint. I am not going leave you. I need you to understand that." She cups his face. "I promise." She touches their foreheads together.
He nods, and she pulls away, gently wiping away stray tears.
"Besides, I've always known what I was getting into. But I am going to worry. It's an occupational hazard. Will you listen to me when I do?"
He nods.
"Okay." She smiles then and gently kisses him.
He hesitates then reaches under the pillow and pulls out a clean tissue. He unwraps it.
Clint fiddles with the clean ring in his palm. "Sooo…."
Laura shakes her head.
Clint drops his head. "Yeah."
"Not with that ring." She shivers. "I don't care how many times it's disinfected, I don't think I could wear it."
He brightens. "Would a different ring work?"
She smiles and sits on the edge of the bed, pecking him on the lips.
"Yes."
"This probably works out better, now you can pick it out and I don't have to guess."
"I don't know, you actually have a pretty good…" Laura's hands pause and her expression turns pained.
Clint grins cheekily and leans forward so their faces are inches apart. "Eye?"
Laura starts laughing, and oh man does he miss her laugh.
She stops laughing and wipes the tears from her eyes. "What, what's wrong?"
He smiles sadly and twirls the end of her hair. "I love your laugh. I- I'm gonna miss hearing it."
"Maybe this won't be forever, wait until you heal before you worry."
"Laura, you saw what happened, there's no way my hearing will come back."
"Maybe…hearing aids?" She suggests.
Clint pulls a face.
"It's just an option. No matter what happens, I'm staying. Okay?"
He nods, and smiles at her. "Okay."