"Who the hell would bring up a kid in here?" Rhodey asked as he lifted his faceplate, taking in the room they were in.
Tony shrugged, "Monsters," he offered from where he stood further within the room, his own faceplate lifted to allow him look around the room with his own eyes. It had taken awhile for them, along with Thor and Vision to find Clint's room in the remains of the Hydra base, but eventually they'd found a room with a lock on the outside, as if meant to lock someone in the room, if it was needed. The presence of child's clothing had given away the fact that this was actually the room Clint slept in.
The next room along apparently served as some sort of school room, if the solitary desk and abandoned schoolwork was any indication. Thor and Vision were scouting the rest of the base, searching for any other signs of Clint's existence, while Tony and Rhodey were focusing on the child's room.
The room itself was bleak, with no windows and concrete walls. It was cold, and Tony shivered as he thought how cold the room would get once winter had truly set in.
Aside from the size of the clothes in the dresser there were few indications that this was a child's room. A couple of drawings stacked on top of the dresser, a plush toy bird and a battered looking plush toy dog on the bed...a couple of children's books in various languages on a shelf...that was it.
Tony picked up the stack of pictures, flicking though them curiously.
"Anything interesting?" Rhodey asked, looking over from the shelf, where he had been skimming through the books.
"He likes using purple," Tony offered, "and he likes drawing arrows...and birds. Bruce or Sam might be able to psychoanalyse them and get more detail."
"I don't know, neither of them has much in the way of experience with traumatised kids, and Bruce isn't that kind of doctor," Rhodey pointed out. Tony shrugged, handing over the stack of pictures for Rhodey to flick through himself.
"He's got a bird stuffed toy, maybe birds are his favourite animals?" Rhodey suggested with a shrug of his own, before turning back to his examination of the books on the shelf. His gaze was drawn to a thick factual book about birds, which looked particularly well loved. He carefully pulled it from its place on the shelf, opening the book and flicking through it. He stopped, however, when he noticed something was tucked between the pages. A photo, creased and folded and marked with fingerprints, but otherwise in decent condition, obviously hidden away in the book for a reason.
"Check this out," Rhodey called to Tony, who strode across the small room to his side.
In the photo was a younger version of Clint, although only by a year or so. He was outside, rugged up against the cold, his black clothing marked with a red hydra logo, with a man in hydra uniform crouched beside him, an arm around Clint's slender shoulders. They were both smiling up at whoever took the camera, their expressions genuine and comfortable.
"Who do you reckon that is?" Rhodey asked. Tony shrugged, watching as Rhodey flipped the photo over. There was writing on the back, but it was in Russian, or at least Tony guessed it was Russian.
Barton Мальчики:
Barney и Клинт
Клинта 5-ый День рождения
28 мая 2019
"That doesn't help," Tony pouted.
"Maybe Natasha will translate it," Rhodey reasoned, "it looks as if whoever this guy was Clint is close to him."
"We may have also just let the Hulk pulverise him." Tony replied sarcastically, "Which is going to make the kid a big fan of us. Is there anything else in there?"
Rhodey continued flicking through the book, stopping again when he found a folded piece of paper between the pages of the book. Tony reached out and took the paper, unfolding it carefully.
"Oh good, this is in English."
"What's it say?"
"It's addressed to someone known as Hawkeye, from someone known as Barney," Tony replied, skimming over the letter, "Reads like a goodbye letter."
"Barney...I wonder if that's the guy in the photo," Rhodey wondered, looking back at the photo curiously, before turning it over again. Tony looked back over his best friend's shoulder, getting another look at the writing on the back.
"Son of a bitch, I think that was his fifth birthday."
"I think you might be right, Tony," Rhodey agreed, "When's the letter dated?"
"First of June this year...maybe he was transferred to another base." Tony set the letter down. The letter seemed to be very personal, and although that usually didn't bother Tony, the fact that the letter had been hidden away by Clint meant that the letter obviously was important to him. The kid had been through enough in his short life already without having Tony snoop. He was probably going to feel his privacy had been violated enough to cause issues already, although maybe Clint was still young enough to not be bothered like that. Tony was no expert on little kids after all.
"We should take this stuff with us...give him something familiar to look at, it obviously meant a lot to him," Rhodey suggested.
Tony nodded "We going to take the bird and the dog too?" he asked, walking back over to the bed and picking up the stuffed toys that had been left there. Rhodey rolled his eyes but nodded. The book about birds, with the things Clint had hidden inside, as well as the toys, were put in a pile, and Tony and Rhodey searched through the rest of the room, not finding anything more of interest. Still, Tony and Rhodey bundled up Clint's books and some of his clothes, with Tony using Friday to scan for any bugs, tracers or even bombs that Hydra might have hidden away. It wouldn't work out well for anyone if Hydra turned up at the base demanding the kid be returned, or one of his toys was stuffed with explosives that they decided to detonate.
Thor and Vision retuned to the corridor outside the room, having searched through the rest of the base. The only things they had found that might belong to Clint was some child sized protective gear for sparring, although Tony was fairly sure it hadn't seen much use recently, as it was covered in dust and cobwebs…and it actually looked a little too small for Clint anyway. Maybe Hydra had concluded that at the age of 6 Clint was too old for padding…although from what Helen had told them all it sounded as if they hadn't been gentle with Clint in the slightest when he'd been younger.
Still, none of them said much as they carried what little they had been able to find back to the Quinjet. Despite the fact they could all fly it was a long way between the wilds of Russia, and the Avenger's base in upstate New York, and they hadn't been sure about how much they would be bringing back.
Tony set about getting the Quinjet airborne, eyeing the, admittedly pathetically small, pile of belongings they'd found. Once the kid was out of the medical wing Tony mentally promised that he would make sure that the kid had everything he could ever want. Steve would probably mutter something about spoiling the kid, but Tony didn't care.
Clint deserved the chance to be a normal kid, and after what Tony had seen at the base, he didn't care what he would have to do or spend in order to give Clint that opportunity.
AVENGERS
Wanda wrapped her arms defensively around her chest as she gazed out the window, watching as a couple of leaves dropped from one of the trees outside the base, drifting lazily to the ground. Although the winters here weren't as cold as the long, frigid Sokovian winters she'd grown up enduring, they were still cold, and in a few short months the view from the window would be drastically different, with the trees bare of leaves, and snow covering the ground.
It was funny how the passing of time changed things...changed people.
Like the little boy sheltered away from the world in the isolation room. Wanda knew that he was the same little boy she and Pietro had encountered at Strucker's base, although he had changed so much since then. It was surprising to realise that the mostly silent, defeated and broken boy that they had brought back with them following their most recent mission was the same boy who had stared in wide eyed, innocent amazement at her and Pietro. It was less surprising when Wanda remembered the way the boy had been punished for interacting with them. Her stomach still churned when she remembered the beating the boy had been given right there on the floor of the facility, while she and Pietro had watched on, her powers detecting the emotions pouring from the child...the pain and the fear, the sadness and the confusion.
Wanda had wanted to do nothing more than to curl up into a ball and rock back and forward, trying to block out the boy's feelings, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to do it. Why should she be able to block everything out while, mere meters away, a small child, little older than a baby, was beaten.
Eventually the beating had stopped. It had felt like hours had passed, but it had realistically only been a few shirt minutes. The boy lay on the concrete floor, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed, his arms still thrown up around his head to protect it, his legs curled up to protect his stomach.
A couple of guards standing around had laughed at the crying child, while the Hydra officers had scornfully looked down upon him, before they turned their backs and walked away. As if he'd known that he wouldn't be given any assistance and that if he fell behind, he would receive an even worse punishment, the little boy had slowly stumbled to his feet and trailed along after them, his eyes downcast.
It had been the last time Wanda and Pietro had seen him up until the moment they had boarded the Quinjet following the raid on the Hydra base, but Wanda had never really forgotten about the little boy, and she didn't need to read her brother's thoughts in order to know that he too had often thought about the little boy, neither of them ever really thinking that they would ever see him again.
Wanda heard movement before her, instinctively knowing that it was Pietro. His hand rested on her shoulder gently.
"He's awake...Sam asked if we might sit with him for a little."
"He probably won't remember us," Wanda pointed out, still facing out the window. She still saw the pained look on her twin's face.
"He might, we are pretty memorable."
"And what if he does remember us? Any positive memory he might have of us is going to be tarnished by...by what they did to him." Wanda angrily hissed, whirling around to face her brother, her fingertips glowing scarlet as her powers flared with her emotion. Pietro took a few steps back, holding up his hands, not frightened of her, but still cautious. Wanda forced herself to take a few calming breaths, regaining control of her powers.
"Are you alright?' Pietro asked, his voice thick with concern. Wanda shrugged, before shaking her head.
"I keep wondering what we could have done to protect him...to save him from what they did. You heard what Helen said...how they treated him. Who knows that lies they told him about the Avengers? His own parents, Pietro. He tried to kill himself to ensure that he didn't get hurt anymore. We could have saved him from all of that."
"We didn't have control of our powers back then," Pietro pointed out gently, "and what would we have done after we escaped, if we were able to get out? Hydra would have tracked us down, no-matter where we hid, no matter how fast I ran. Besides, I can't run so fast carrying two. We were little more than children ourselves back then...Angry and frightened of the world. We wouldn't have been able to care for him, not in the way he deserves. Yes, he would have avoided being abused like he was, he wouldn't have the lies being told to him, but we were too proud to get help...we would have been living on the streets with him, freezing in winter, stealing food in order to survive."
Wanda heaved a sigh and nodded, knowing that, realistically Pietro was right. Even if they had managed to escape Hydra and Strucker, and take Clint with them, they would never have been free; they would always have been pursued.
"Come on," Pietro offered, reaching out his hand to Wanda, "let's go visit the kid."
Wanda nodded, taking Pietro's hand with her own and allowing him to guide her from the room.