First post didn't come out right. The formatting went wonky and hopefully this fixes it.

I'm finally, finally back. This month has been awful, but I'm finally back posting for the moment. We'll see how long this lasts because RL is throwing me all kinds of curve-balls. So bear with me and enjoy the ride. Here is more of Clint's reaction to the X-men. Enjoy!

On a side note: One of my main inspirations for this series, a wonderful writer called robbiepoo2341, started her own version of a young Clint universe. I really recommend it. Her little Clint is absolutely adorable. Check it out: "On the Run Together" by robbiepoo2341.

Chapter 12- The Windrider, The Elf and The Hawk

Thwock Thwock Thwock

Clint sent arrow after arrow into the hay bale, letting the rhythm of his movements settle him. It wasn't easy to relax like he normally did because the state of his head. He was mortified over his actions earlier and even as he tried to lose himself in the repetitive motions, he berated himself.

Twock. Sure, he was tired. Thwock. Sure, he was on edge from the nightmare. Thwock. And okay, he was not expecting the X-men to show up right away, and he totally blames Logan for that, but that did not excuse how he screamed at the first sight of Nightcrawler. Thwock. Of course he'd heard about the blue X-man. Thwock. The Amazing Nightcrawler was in a circus out of Germany for years and people talk. Clint had always wanted to meet the man, because he seemed so cool with the blue and the tail and the teleporting. Thwip. Clint cursed as the arrow he meant to finish the circle he made in the hay bale, missed by a couple inches. Gad, why had he screamed like a girl? He wasn't ashamed for grabbing his bow and aiming an arrow at them, though that was unfortunate, too. Safety was important and even if they were famous, he had never met Storm or Nightcrawler. But the scream? Seriously? He put his bow down and viciously yanked off his gloves with his teeth.

Then he just had to make matters worse by being rude. He knew what he was doing but he couldn't stop. It was like a train wreck that he couldn't look away from. And the more he watched Logan with the X-men the shittier he felt and the worse he acted. He knew Logan promised to stick around, but promises like that had never meant much before. When Storm (he had trouble thinking of her as Ms. Munroe) had laughed at one of Logan's jokes and smacked his arm, Clint had felt his stomach drop. When Nightcrawler had stolen a piece of Logan's toast with his tail, and Logan had just chuckled and stole a sausage in retaliation, Clint felt his heart seize. Then listening to them catch up about all their friends had solidified it in Clint's mind that Logan would be better off back home with the X-men who acted more like a family than running around the country with a circus brat who's only use is his aim. Clint huffed as he started yanking his arrows from the bale. He might have been more upset than he wanted to admit because when he yanked one arrow out, he pulled the tip off.

"Aw, arrow, no," he whined, leaning forward to rest his head against the hay. Logan didn't think that though, at least that is what he said and he'd been very honest with Clint up to now. Crazy how the world works, right? Not long ago, Clint was an uneducated carney and now he was kind of a sidekick to a superhero. Clint grinned at the idea. Maybe, if he kept practicing he really could become a hero and make a difference.

A quiet cough alerted Clint to Nightcrawler, who was leaning against a wall, out of Clint's way but close enough to see everything. Clint bristled for a minute before taking a deep breath and letting it go. He had no reason to be defensive and here was his chance to apologize for earlier. He finished pulling out the last of his arrows and squared his shoulders to walk over to the mutant.

"Guten Tag, jungling," Nightcrawler said formally as Clint approached.

"Um," Clint said, trying to remember the itty bitty bit of German that one acrobat had taught him.

Nightcrawler grinned and took pity on him. "Good day, young man," he translated.

"Oh, right," Clint said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guten tag, Nightcrawler," he said with what was probably a terrible accent, even for just two words.

The mutant didn't seem to mind. "Storm says that she is ready for you, if you are?" he said politely.

"Okay," Clint agreed. "Just let me get my stuff."

He went over to where he had left his bow and gloves, using the action to build his confidence enough to talk. "So um," he said when he turned around to find Nightcrawler still watching him with a little grin. He soldiered on though. "Sorry about earlier," he said, trying not to mumble. "About, you know, the scream."

Nightcrawler's grin got bigger. "I believe we surprised each other," he said diplomatically. "While it was not the best reaction I have received, it was far from the worst." He shrugged up to his pointy ears. "At least you did not attack us, ja?"

"No, I just threatened you with an arrow," Clint said, spinning one between his fingers. He realized that the fidgeting could look threatening and stopped. "I was an idiot and I was hoping, maybe we could start over?"

Now Nightcrawler's smile was blinding, showing all his sharp teeth. "Of course! Let me begin." He pulled himself up to his full height and gave a perfect sweeping bow. "I am Kurt Wagner, also known as Nightcrawler, member of the X-men." He waited, still bent for Clint to continue.

Clint grinned. He made a bow of his own, though he had to juggle his quiver, bow, gloves and the arrow he still had in his hand. Somehow he managed not to drop anything except the one arrow. "Clint Barton, also known as the Amazing Hawkeye, formerly of Carson's Circus, now apparently ward of Wolverine."

"Wunderbar!" Kurt said, standing up again. "Logan mentioned that you too were circus folk."

Clint nodded. "Yep, for a couple years now." He paused, not sure if he should continue, but when did he ever keep his mouth shut. "I've heard of you, you know. And not just from the papers, which are shit anyway. We had a contortionist from Germany travel with us for a while and she knew you. Krissy, I think, it was a long time ago, but I remember her talking about how nice you were. I kinda always wanted to meet you."

Kurt preened for a minute, before holding his arms out. "Well?" he asked. "Do I meet up with your expectations?" He did a little spin, letting Clint take in everything from his pointed ears to the gently waving tail.

Clint studied the man for a minute before grinning mischievously. "Eh, you're okay." He shrugged dismissively, and winked when Nightcrawler started to frown. "But Wolverine is my favorite."

Kurt threw back his head and laughed. "I'll tell you a secret," he whispered in between chuckles. "He's my favorite too."

Clint nodded seriously, proud to have made the man laugh. "I want to be just like him," he admitted as they approached the door.

Nightcrawler reached out to ruffle Clint's hair and Clint didn't shy away. He wasn't even nervous about the touch, which surprised him. Logically he should be wary of the blue demon but despite the initial surprise, and resulting scream, he was fine with how the other man looked. Clint decided not to worry about it and led the way back into the hotel room.

He had been so preoccupied by Kurt that Clint had forgotten why the X-men were here. The pile of papers that Storm had spread out on Logan's bed reminded him with the subtly of an elephant. He stopped short, but a gentle push from Kurt's tail got him moving normal before anyone noticed.

Kurt announced their return cheerfully to Storm, who was shifting through that mountain of papers, and Logan who looked about ready to fall asleep.

"Well, I talked to Clint and we think it will be easier for him to work with Storm alone for a while. Less pressure, ja?" the blue elf announced cheerfully, completely ignoring the fact that they hadn't talked about it at all.

Clint ducked his head shyly and when Logan asked about it he agreed. "Yeah, better than you all hanging off my every word or staring over my shoulder," he admitted. He hadn't really thought about it but it was true. Being surrounded like this made him feel like a monkey in a cage, being asked to dance. He was really grateful that Nightcrawler had thought of it first.

"Wasn't talking to you, Hawk," Logan replied with a chuckle that warmed the cold weight in Clint's chest. He trusted Clint and that felt amazing. "Ro?" he asked the intimidating Goddess holding a ream of paper.

Clint ducked his head, expecting a scathing retort or something but she just laughed and asked what Clint thought. Clint sighed in relief because he hadn't been sure that she would forgive him for his earlier behavior. "I'll be good, Ms. Munroe," he promised.

The goddess smiled at him and Clint relaxed. He barely noticed Logan and Kurt leaving, probably to visit the bar, though it was still pretty early.

"Well, now that we are alone, why don't you tell me a little about yourself, child," Storm said, putting down her papers to give him her full attention.

Under the scrutiny of the weather goddess, Clint's brain ground to a halt. "Um," he said eloquently.

"We got off on the wrong foot earlier. Perhaps we should forget all of that and begin again," she suggested when the words caught in this throat. Surprisingly, she didn't seem annoyed or impatient with him.

Clint felt his cheeks heat up and he ducked his head to try to hide it. "Me and Kurt did something kinda like that," he mumbled. "I'd like to, please."

Clint understood why people called her a goddess when she smiled like that. "Come sit down child and we'll talk." Clint sat down on the clean bed and resisted the urge to pull his knees up to his chest. "So, tell me about yourself, Clint. How did you come to meet Wolverine?"

"I met him during a show at the circus," Clint said, smiling a little as he remembered that last show. "I was performing for a packed house and the ringmaster called for a volunteer. He picked Logan because of his height, made a joke of it."

Storm nodded, to all appearances very invested in Clint's story. "He gets teased for that quite a bit," she agreed. "How did he take it?"

Clint shrugged. "I don't know, didn't seem to bother him. Missy set him up on the target and I shot an apple off his head." He chuckled, remembering Logan's unimpressed look with apple juice in his hair. "He heckled me, said that I could do better, so I shot his cigar out of his hand. He glared but was a really good sport about it. He was one of the best volunteers I'd ever had."

"And after the show? Why did you start traveling with him?" Storm asked.

Now, his legs came up to his chest. He didn't really want to talk about it. "My mentors stole from the circus and I confronted them about it after the show. Logan broke up the fight." He took a deep breath, trying to lose the tightness that had settled around his chest. "Some government guys were poking around so some of the circus folk asked him to take care of me. Figured a kind stranger was better than having me stick around and bring them trouble."

"Oh, child," Storm said, getting to her feet and rushing around the bed to give him a hug. "That sounds terrible."

"Of course I didn't know who he was at first. He was just this weird old guy who could scare off the suits, so I stuck around," he continued with a shrug that didn't break her embrace. It felt good, different from Logan's hug last night. "It's not like I had anywhere else to go."

"When did you find out who he was?" she asked archly, pulling back to look at his face.

"A couple days ago? He told me he was a mutant that first night in Colorado, but he didn't tell me he was Wolverine until later."

"Oh, that man," Storm groaned. "I guess he didn't think it was important, or some such nonsense. Now that you know, how do you feel about him?"

"I think he's really cool," Clint defended his guardian. "He's been great, really. And the mutant thing doesn't matter to me. I kinda wish I was one."

"Why? Do you know the hardships we face?" she asked carefully.

Clint scoffed. "So, what? At least you can defend yourself and you're special. No one can take that from you."
"I see," Storm said thoughtfully, sitting back and giving Clint his space back. He tried not to miss her warmth. "And people have taken things from you?"

Clint didn't reply to that. He really didn't want to get into the stuff he talked about with Logan with Storm. He didn't want her to see how weak he was. He turned away from her and hid his face in his knees.

She laid a hand on his shoulder. Clint flinched, pulling away from her touch and her pity. "I know what it is like to be young and helpless," she said softly. "I did not always have my gifts. I was once an orphan living on the streets of Cairo, stealing to survive. It was a long journey from that child to the X-man I am now." Clint sneaked a peek at her and she was bestowing one of her kindest smiles on him. "You are just at the beginning of your own journey, Clint."

"I want to stay with Logan," Clint whispered. His stomach churned with fear that she wouldn't agree.

"I think that is a forgone conclusion. When Logan commits to something or someone, he puts everything into it." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "I think he has committed to you. The only question that remains is if you are as committed to making this work?"

Clint rolled his eyes. X-men or not, she had no right to question his resolve. "Of course I am!" he promised.

Storm nodded, apparently pleased by his response. "Very good. Then let's get started, shall we?"

She pointed at the chair that Logan had vacated and raised an eyebrow when he hesitated. She must have learned that from Logan because there was a world of commentary in that expression.

Rather than press his luck, Clint took a seat and turned to the little table. It wasn't big, barely room for anything productive. Clint wasn't sure how they would fit all the papers Storm had spread out all over the bed.

"We'll start with some basic standard tests. Don't worry about being wrong and if there is something you can't answer just skip it for now," Ms. Munroe explained. She was all business, now; with very little of the exotic goddess visible. She put a packet of papers down in front of him and handed him a pencil. "This will test your reading comprehension. Please begin."

Clint stared at papers for a minute, panic swelling in his chest. "You know I haven't taken a test in years, right?" he asked, purposefully avoiding the question he wanted to ask: what happens if he fails?

"It'll be alright," she said, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "There is no judgement here. We're just trying to discover where your starting point is, not where your journey will end."

"Okay," the teen said wryly. "Prepare to be disappointed," he murmured under his breath as he started to read the first passage. She sighed in disagreement but left him to work.

Clint knew he failed miserably at the first test. It wasn't even multiple-choice so he couldn't guess either. He felt like something scrapped off a shoe as he handed it to Storm and she handed him another small packet. This one was math, which was worse. He liked math, but he didn't know any times tables or long division or any of that shit. He had to leave over half of that packet blank and the rest was probably wrong. He was really frustrated by the last question which asked how far something would fly if shot at this angle with this force. There were a bunch of equations there for him to use and the question specifically asked for him to show his work. He just wrote what he figured the answer was based on experience and flipped the page with enough force to tear it a little. He felt like such an idiot.

After that was a test on vocabulary, a general science packet, and a history packet. As he handed off each half filled test, Clint felt worse. How was he supposed to know the significance of the battle of Gettysburg? He was lucky to know it was from the Civil War. Or how photosynthesis worked? What did that have to do with archery, which was his main focus for the last several years? And from his perspective, government was stupid. What had checks and balances or due process ever done for him? He shoved that packet away angrily enough to send it to the floor.

Storm was an unflappable as ever as she picked up the papers and added them to her stack. She graded each packet and wrote a couple notes down in her notebook. Clint itched to see what she was writing but she kept her notes angled away from him so couldn't sneak a peek. She was pretty for an executioner, he mused, as it felt like every jotted note was a blow to his heart. He knew he was stupid, illiterate and uneducated, but it hurt seeing it in black and white. He dropped his head on the table and watched his pencil roll off the table. "Aw, pencil," he whined, causing Ms. Munroe to look up.

"You're doing well, Clint," she encouraged warmly. "Only one more and then we'll talk about the results."

Clint rolled his eyes. "What's left?" he grouched.

"This is a physics worksheet," she said.

Clint bonked his head on the table. When would she be done humiliating him? Physics was advanced, college stuff. He didn't even make it to middle school. He took the packet anyway and read over the first question. It was another how far question. He could do that, even if he couldn't explain it. Trajectories he knew. He could guess at the acceleration and speed questions. There were a couple questions about shapes to that he could work out okay in his head. The energy questions about heat loss threw him though and the rest of the packet he left blank. He was just finishing when Logan and Kurt returned. Kurt was laughing so hard that Logan had to hold him up. Logan had a smirk but he just rolled his eyes when Clint tipped his head in question.

"Well, you boys look like you had fun," Storm observed with apparent disapproval as she looked up from Clint's tests.

"It's not like that, 'Ro," Logan responded as he helped Kurt sit down on the clear bed. He batted the man's tail away when it poked him as the blue elf tried to catch his breath. "I just told him a funny story and the idiot overreacted."

"Kleiner hund!" Kurt giggled.

"Small dog?" Storm asked, obviously confused.

Clint snorted but turned back to his paper when Logan shot him a look. See? Sometimes he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

"It's nothing," Logan snapped. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"We have discovered a new weakness for Wolverine," Kurt teased, poking his friend with his tail again. "We'll have to update the data base."

Overriding Logan's growls, Storm crossed her arms to regard her teammates with her most no-nonsense expression. "Please explain."

"I just don't get along with little purse dogs, okay?" Logan snarled. "Now drop it."

He stomped off to the bathroom and Clint saw Kurt mouth "I'll explain later" to Storm. Then the blue mutant turned his attention to Clint. "So, how is it coming?" he asked.

Clint glared at the paper in front of him. He had no idea about the last few questions so he snapped it closed. "Just fine," he said with as much nonchalance as he could. "Just proving what I already know."

Logan came out of the bathroom and walked over to ruffle Clint's hair. He glanced at the test that Clint had finished and picked it up to hand to Storm. "And what's that, bub?"

Clint paused before he answered. He was going to say "I'm stupid" but he knew Logan wouldn't like that and Clint didn't want to argue. He ended up with just a shrug.

Logan narrowed his eyes like he knew everything that Clint was thinking but he turned to Ms. Munroe instead of calling Clint out. "What's the verdict?" he asked, taking a seat next to Kurt on the bed.

Ms. Munroe tidied up her stack of papers. Half were answer sheets that she used to check the other half, which were Clint's tests. "Well, as to be expected he has a lot of catching up to do." Clint sighed heavily. He knew it. "But I don't believe it will be a problem. According to my preliminary assessment, Clint is very bright with excellent problem-solving skills," she continued.

"Wait, what?" Clint blurted, catching everyone's attention. He didn't care. No one had ever called him smart, no one before Logan.

Storm smiled at him. "You are very bright," she repeated. "Yes, you lack a lot of general knowledge but you did very well on comprehension and word problems. I am especially impressed with your grasp of physics. It's one thing to know trajectories instinctually, it is quite another to learn how to apply that knowledge to a question on a test."

"Knew ya had it in ya," Logan congratulated with a nod.

"Wundabar!" Kurt exclaimed.

Storm nodded in agreement. "So, we will come up with a lesson plan that you can work through with Logan's help. We'll have to set up a schedule so you can meet with teachers from the school that can tutor you when you're not traveling. They can help you with the more advanced topics while you catch up in general studies."

Kurt bumped Logan and made a complicated facial expression. The older man huffed in amusement and nodded at Clint. "How would you like a new swordsmaster?" he asked. Clint tipped his head to the side in confusion, trying to understand what his guardian was getting at. "Kurt's a pretty good swordsman," Logan explained. "And his style is a little different from mine. Thought you'd be interested."

"Learn from Nightcrawler?" Clint perked up finally. All the schooling talk had really been getting him down, but the possibility of learning a new sword style sounded awesome. "Hell, yeah. I mean, if that's okay?"

"Ja!" Kurt nodded enthusiastically. "I'll bring some blades next time and Logan's katana. No reason you can't learn from him as well."

Clint's head was buzzing with possibilities and he almost missed Logan's next question. "So, who were you thinking for teachers?"

"Myself and Kurt, of course," Storm said thoughtfully. "Jean, as well. Hank will be overjoyed to have a bright student to teach physics to. Forge might be of help as well." She tapped her papers absently. "I'll come up with a list and we can set up a schedule. In the meantime, we need workbooks for Clint to do on his own. It think that will be a satisfactory beginning."

"Aw, Homework, no," Clint groaned and let his head thump on the table. He was smiling though as he listened to the adults laugh good naturedly around him. They were heroes, and they believed in him. Clint couldn't remember anyone believing in him like that, expectations without threats, hopes without punishments. All his life, Clint had been told he was worthless. He would prove all the jerks from his past wrong and live up to the expectations of the X-men.