Chapter 8: Who's Controlling Who?

At that point, the guards were content to let Barney stay in his cell, but for Clint, they still had other plans, taking him deeper into the place, where the rumbling sound was easier to comprehend as roars and thuds. He couldn't identify what was roaring when it was still far below him, but that didn't exactly make him feel any better about the situation.

Especially not when they got far enough down the hall that he could see his mom behind one of the cell doors — still healing from how much she'd been shot when they took her in.

"Mom," Clint breathed out, then tried it again a little louder, really hoping that she was more alright than she looked.

"Don't waste your time, kid," one of the guards said, so Clint kicked him as hard as he could from the angle he was being pushed along.

"What did you losers do to her?" he demanded.

"You're not the one asking questions or making demands, kid."

"Like hell I'm not!" Clint twisted and dropped and did everything he could to be a pain. "Let me see my mom!"

"No," the other guard said, tightening his grip on Clint so he couldn't move as much. "And she'll stay right where she is in that dampener. If you're lucky, you'll get to see her before she's transferred to a Department H facility."

Clint was shaking his head hard by then. "You can't give her to them; they're the bad guys. I already explained this to your idiot boss!"

"You're the one siding with a known terrorist and fugitive—"

"Oh, wow, it's like talking to a brick wall."

"I'm not going to argue with you, kiddo. I'm sure she's told you all kinds of things to explain away why she was killing people like me that were just doing their jobs."

"Maybe you should ask your buddies in Department H who was ordering the hits," Clint shot back angrily.

"I don't have any buddies in Department H, kid," the guard said wearily. "I'm just doing my job — and you're just being belligerent."

"Being belligerent is my job," Clint insisted, though by that time, the guards were simply ignoring him, leading him past his mom toward the loud noises, deeper and deeper until Clint did, in fact, recognize the voice.

It was the Hulk.

Clint's eyes were wide, and he stopped fighting or even back-talking as he and the guards went deeper and deeper into the facility. The walls were starting to shake from the force of the Hulk trying to break out, and this time, without being able to see the situation, Clint was actually scared. He didn't want to get hurt in the collateral damage of a Hulk escape, even if he'd heal and even if he and the Hulk were on good terms. Actually, he especially didn't want to get hurt if that happened, because then the Hulk would be upset on his behalf.

Outside of a massively reinforced cell, a pair of differently-uniformed guys was waiting for them, which was when Clint realized this really was as bad as he was afraid it would be.

"We've got it from here," one of them told Clint's assigned guards.

Clint actually felt the guards hesitate, because they both held onto him a little tighter, but then, they seemed to relax a little bit more than normal as they stepped back and let each of the new guards take hold of Clint to push him forward.

So yeah, something screwy was going on.

Clint's original guards were well out of earshot when the new guys turned to Clint and gestured toward the vibrating walls that had just absorbed another hit. "Make him stop."

Clint blinked, his lips parted. "...what?"

"For some reason, he listens to you," the first guard said.

"Probably some baser instinct," muttered the second. "Considering who his parents are — animals that recognize each other."

Clint had heard his mom and dad being referred to that way, but somehow, it stung just as much to be on the receiving end of that kind of talk — which was itself a surprise, since he normally didn't care as much if he was getting flack. His mom's good work to build his own self-esteem suddenly meant he cared about being torn down like that. "Hey."

The guards ignored him. "We'll start with something simple. Make him stop. Even you can understand commands like that, can't you?" When Clint glared, he smirked. "We'll start working on more complicated commands and controls down the line."

"Are you serious?" Clint stared at him. "He's my friend. He's not — he's not some pet or something. I'm not in charge of him."

"That part's true enough; you'll just be relaying orders."

Clint shook his head at that. "No way. I'm not working for you losers. I'm not helping you make him work for you either."

"Mm." The first guard turned to his partner. "You have the incident report drawn up?"

The second guard nodded. "Assault with a deadly weapon. Vehicle. Only option was to shoot the driver and stop the car. The two healers survived, but the teenage driver…"

Clint looked green. "Stop it," he said without thinking. "What are you talking about? Stop it!"

"Or what?" The first guard chuckled. "You'll yell at us some more?"

"You don't even know if it'll work," Clint said breathlessly — which was about when General Ross came down to see what the Hulk situation was. The General seemed surprised to see Clint so close to the cell, especially when Clint was understandably terrified (albeit for his brother, not necessarily of the Hulk).

"It'll work," the second guard said flatly. "You've already done it."

"Yeah, when we were having fun. If I try to make him… I mean, what if he decides I'm with you? He's not stupid; he's gonna figure out I'm doing what you say!" Clint was desperate, trying to find a way out that wouldn't hurt Barney.

"You'll heal."

"Hold on a minute," Ross cut in. "That's not the kind of thing our military tolerates. We don't use children."

"I tried to tell you—" Clint started to say, but the first guy cut him off.

"You saw the same footage we did, General. You wanted help containing the Hulk? You need to think outside the box."

"I didn't authorize kidnapping a child to have anything to do with the Hulk," Ross shouted back.

(Clint very nearly argued that he wasn't a child, but hey, it was nice to have the general backing him up, so he didn't.)

"Incidental catch," the guard said. "He was with his mother. We just saw the opportunity."

"The very definition of an incidental catch is one you didn't mean to get — but you targeted this kid." Ross gestured wildly. "The woman isn't a viable asset for now anyhow. You know that. It's too big a risk."

"She will be," the second guard replied. "And in the meantime, her kid can direct the Hulk. You saw it."

"No one wants to get a handle on the Hulk more than I do," Ross said. "But you are willfully insisting on doing the same things that got hundreds of good men killed."

The first guard grinned crookedly. "That's the beauty of it, General. The kid heals like his mom. No necks to risk."

It was clear that Ross was under the impression that the man in front of him was far stupider than he'd initially thought. "That doesn't change the fact that you are trying to utilize a child!"

"Mutant," the second guard put in.

"Bite me," Clint snapped.

"Don't push your luck," the second guard shot right back, glaring daggers at Clint — so Clint bit him, resulting in a very quick fight until Clint was pinned and snarling out every swear word he knew.

Very suddenly, the tone shifted with the general. "Do as you're told," Ross said toward Clint. "This will all go easier if you learn quickly to follow orders."

Clint looked away from the guard he was trying to kick toward Ross with an open look of disbelief. "What are you even talking about?"

"You need to tell the Hulk to back off," Ross said. "And you need to do it before I lose my patience and do something with your brother or mom." He tipped his chin down. "Do I make myself clear?"

Clint blinked a few times, his jaw slightly dropped, before he nodded quietly. "Uh-huh," he said, though he was trying to figure out what he'd missed that made the general switch sides so quickly.

Maybe he needed to ask Jean to look around when the X-Men came to get them. Which they would. Because Jean had told him after the last snatch job that she was this close to burning some creeps to a crisp. Which Clint thought sounded like a great idea.

With that, the guards let him into the huge area where the Hulk was being held — and where he was screaming and stomping and generally being as terrifying as the Hulk was able to be. Clint froze in the doorway, suddenly aware of how much smaller he was than the Hulk. It was easier to be scared of the guy in close quarters than it had been when they were racing each other trying to smash more bad guys.

Clint heard the door close behind him and swallowed, edging around the room to see if he could get in the Hulk's line of sight. A few times, an angry roar or a swinging fist or foot was too loud or too close for comfort, and he froze, cringing. He was being too quiet. He needed to catch the Hulk's attention when the big guy was focused the other way and trying to break free.

"Hey," Clint said, though it was too quiet and bubbled in his throat. He swallowed hard and tried again. "Hey, uh, fancy seeing you here," he said, which sounded very stupid when it came out of his mouth.

Still, the way the cell was built, even Clint's feeble attempt at sounding brave echoed slightly, just enough that the Hulk heard it and turned Clint's way, his chest heaving from the effort of trying to break out and his gaze more manic than Clint had seen it before — but Clint did, at least, see recognition there too.

So he could work with that.

Maybe.

He cleared his throat, unconsciously moving so his weight shifted from one foot to the other. "I… I, um, hi." He waved with one hand. "I got caught too. You okay?"

That single question seemed to get the Hulk's attention, and suddenly, Clint found himself being almost studied by massive, green eyes. "Hawk got caught," Hulk said in a rumble, his angry scowl turning into a deep frown.

Clint nodded. "Yeah. Me and my brother and my mom. Not fun, huh?"

The Hulk shook his head, still watching Clint carefully.

"So, uh." Clint cleared his throat and shifted nervously. "So, uh, if you could not bring the place down on me and my family, I'd really, really appreciate it. I know it totally sucks, though, right?" He gestured around the cell. "Worst amenities in New York."

The Hulk snorted. "You said it," he said, then gritted his teeth and let out a roar that sounded more hurt than angry.

Initially, Clint had backed up against the wall, but when he saw the way Hulk was shaking his head like he was trying to dispel whatever lingering hurt was still clinging to him, Clint took a step forward again. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked. "How the heck did they hurt you?" He tried not to sound like he was scared, but, well, he was. For oh so many reasons.

The Hulk shook his head again. "Head hurt."

Clint frowned and glanced back toward the door, then jumped when the Hulk banged his head on the wall. "Woah, hey, maybe not?" he said, rushing forward, both hands out. "Don't hurt yourself worse!"

The Hulk let out a gravelly sound and hit his head again.

"Oookay." Clint ran around the Hulk again. "Hey. Something screwy is going on here, you know?" he said. "I'm pretty sure someone is — I think maybe a telepath. Something controlling. Something like that." When the Hulk shook his head hard again, he got even closer. "I'm pretty sure someone's controlling that general."

That finally got the Hulk to pay Clint more attention again. "Ross," he practically growled like a curse.

Clint nodded. "Yep. That guy." He gestured toward the door. "He was mad the bad guys caught me cuz I'm a kid. Next thing I know, he's all 'do as you're told, you pawn'." Clint puffed his chest out and even did a passable imitation of Ross's speech patterns.

Hulk stopped what he was doing and even let out a sharp laugh. "Yellow Hawk is funny."

Clint grinned outright. "I do my best."

The Hulk smiled wider and crouched closer to Clint. "Yellow Hawk come with Hulk. Get out. Hulk smash more bad guys than Yellow Hawk."

Clint's smile dropped fast. "I'd really like to prove you wrong, but…" He looked toward the door. "But my mom and my brother…"

The Hulk frowned as he watched Clint. "Yellow Hawk scared?"

Clint nodded. And then, without even thinking about it, he rushed forward and did his best attempt at a hug at the Hulk's chest level. He was shaking and worried his brother wasn't going to live through this and scared out of his mind that the department was going to use him up like they did his mom… and it was weird, but the Hulk was safer than all of that out there.

The Hulk seemed downright surprised by the gesture and looked around the room as if someone would help him piece together why this small boy had attached to him. Then, awkwardly, he put a hand around Clint. "It's okay," he rumbled.

Clint nodded into his chest but didn't look up for a long time. When he did, his eyes were shining. "My brother doesn't have any powers," he whispered. "They're going to kill him if you and me don't do what they say."

Hulk narrowed his eyes and huffed angrily. "We smash them first."

"Please don't," Clint whispered.

The Hulk sighed, but he had never had to face a crying little boy who cared about him before. He was used to kids crying because they were scared of him. This was new.

And it was that simple fact — the newness of the situation — that made the Hulk nod his agreement.