Chapter 18-Aftermath

This place brought back memories for Clint. He had spent hours every at every stop, practicing in exactly this way, standing in the center of the ring, after the big top was set up, with targets hung all around him with numbers painted on them. Behind him, Buck called out the target and Clint hit the bull's-eye as fast as he could. He knew this exercise well, and he relaxed into the familiarity. This he knew, this he was good, no the best at. Here there was only the targets and his arrows, no jealous older brother, no angry or disappointed mentors.

"Three!" Buck called out.

Clint hit the target on the right, dead center.

"Eight!" his mentor shouted.

It felt like the man was shouting in Clint's ear, but he didn't turn around. Instead he released an arrow at the target hanging from the high wire. That one was a pain to hang up unless he got one of the aerialists to hang it for him.

"Fourteen!"

The target next to the ticket stand suddenly had an arrow in the center.

"Twenty-one," Buck hissed in his ear.

Clint paused. He didn't remember there being more than twenty targets. Where was twenty one? He started to panic. He could smell Buck's cigarettes and he knew what would happen if he failed. He spotted the number out of the corner and released before he fully turned, before he saw where the target was suspended.

"Clint?" Logan gasped in surprise staring at the arrow imbedded in his chest.

"Twenty-one!" Swordsman ordered. The flat of his blade smacked Clint on the shoulder, forcing him to release the arrow he didn't remember nocking.

"Clint!" Logan shouted, falling to one knee because the other one had an arrow in it. Clint didn't remember aiming for the knee, didn't remember why he would aim there when the target was on Logan's chest.

"You missed!" hisses both his mentors. Clint flinched, expecting the pain that usually came with failure.

"Twenty-one!" Trickshot ordered. "Again!"

Logan looked up and met Clint's eyes as he sighted down the arrow shaft. Betrayal and disappointment were obvious on his face.

"NOOOOOO!" Clint screamed even as he released the arrow.

\\\/\\\/

"CLINT!" Logan shouted, shaking the boy's shoulders.

"No, no, no!" Clint sobbed, still trapped in his nightmare.

Logan was at his wits end trying to snap the kid out of it. He was about to get a glass of water when Clint's eyes finally opened. He looked around in a panic before he saw Logan. He pushed away from the mutant as hard as he could and tried to fling himself off the bed. He wasn't that successful because of the tangle of blankets and he landed with a thump with one leg still on the bed.

Logan quickly backed off. Obviously, Clint was dreaming about him this time. He should have expected it. As hard as life had been for Clint, he probably had never seen anyone kill before, so it was no surprise that Wolverine haunted his nightmares.

"Sorry, sorry," Clint mumbled into the hands he had over his face. "I'm such a baby, I'm sorry."

Logan sighed and shook his head, moving toward the door with heavy footfalls, so Clint would know where he was. "Nothing to apologize for, bub," he said over his shoulder, one hand on the door frame of the kid's room. "It's almost morning, anyhow, so if you feel up to it, why don't ya come get some coffee and breakfast."

Clint nodded, still hiding his face and still sprawled out on the floor, obviously embarrassed by the whole thing. Logan left him to it and went into the main room of the little cabin they were renting. The space served triple duty as kitchen (with a stove, counter and pantry along one wall), dining room (with a small card table and chairs in the corner in front of the fridge) and living room (with a beat up old love-seat situated in front of the large windows). The windows were the best feature of the place, giving a nice view of the trees surrounding them, as well as the dirt road leading up to the front porch. Logan started the coffee pot and pulled out eggs and bacon for breakfast, keeping an eye on the window to see if anything had changed since last night. Nothing moved in the pre-dawn shadows, but Logan was a cautious man. Usually he did a perimeter sweep before breakfast, but when Clint had a nightmare, he postponed till after breakfast so the kid wouldn't be alone until he had settled out.

The coffeemaker beeped just as Clint walked in, his blond hair sticking up more than usual, but otherwise ready for the day. Logan gave the kid a once-over as he set down a mug of coffee and a plate of fried eggs and bacon. Clint wasn't as calm and put together as he wanted to appear. His hair was standing up because he splashed water on face to hide the effects of his nightmare, and his socks didn't match. He was also wearing extra deodorant to hide his scent. Logan pretended not to notice as he sat down with his own breakfast and watched Clint doctor his coffee how he liked it.

They ate in silence, listening to the birds outside that were just starting to wake up as the sun peaked over the trees. It was peaceful, and Clint visibly relaxed. Finally, he must have felt up to breaking the silence.

"What is the plan today?" the kid asked around the last mouthful of eggs. Now, he seemed completely recovered from his rude awakening, apart from the dark circles under his eyes. That was pretty typical. The kid was good at bouncing back. Logan was kind of an expert at that, himself.

Logan considered his answer for a minute. They had developed somewhat of a routine that was actually pretty consistent after a couple weeks here. Mornings were mostly devoted to training and Clint's archery practice. Then they'd have lunch outside if the weather held, usually after a short hike. Afternoons were less structured. Logan mostly worked on fixing up the cabin, a favor for the owner who had agreed to not ask any questions about the pair. Clint either explored the woods around them or made the hike to town to visit the small town library or help out at the local vet. Dr. Hatfield (no relation to the infamous Hatfields) appreciated Clint's energy and love for animals. Clint gleefully washed all the dogs, horses and the odd goat that were boarding at the clinic while they recovered. Clint never complained about mucking out stalls or hosing out kennels. After a few hours in town, Logan would pick him up and they'd have dinner, either back at the cabin or at the little bar/diner that was the only restaurant in town. After that they'd spend a quiet evening talking, just trying to get to know each other better. Clint loved hearing about all of the battles that Logan had been in and about all the other X-men. Logan used the time as a teaching opportunity, discussing strategy and tactics. Clint had a good head on his shoulders and Logan got a kick out of the times when Clint disagreed with Cyclops's decisions. It didn't happen often, Summers was a better leader than Logan would admit to his face, but it was still entertaining. It wasn't all one sided though; Clint told stories too. He talked about the circus, mostly, though sometimes he talked about the foster homes he and his brother had been in. Logan was building a mental list of people he's like to visit someday, in the middle of the night or in a dark alley, based on those stories. Even knowing how bad it could be, it still infuriated him that Clint had to deal with some of that shit and he wished there was more he could do about it. Still, those nights had been some of the best Logan had enjoyed in years; just him and Clint and the stars, talking about their lives and their futures.

"Logan?" Clint asked again, breaking into the mutant's musings.

"Sorry, bub, just wool-gathering," Logan apologized. "Nothing new this morning, I'll do my sweep while you set up your targets. After that, we'll work on those throws I showed ya yesterday. But, remember the X-men are coming this afternoon, so we should keep that open. I bet they'll be here before lunch. Kurt sounded pretty impatient on the phone, last night."

Clint immediately perked up. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot they were coming," he cheered, pumping a fist in excitement. "I can't wait to see Nightcrawler and Storm again."

"I'm not sure who's coming, to be honest," Logan admitted, thinking back to his conversation last night. He took a slow sip of his coffee, and savored the heat in his hands. Kurt had been unusually tight lipped about the whole thing and it was obvious that Scott was distracted when the X-men's leader had gotten on the line. Something was happening, something big, but none of the mutants wanted to talk about it over the phone. Logan would just have to wait until they arrived to ask questions. "The elf said that everyone wanted to come meet you, so Scott had to make the call. It could be anybody."

"I don't care," Clint admitted sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck and gave a shy grin. "I'm just excited to meet more of your friends, especially after everything you told me about them. I promise not to be jealous this time."

"I'll hold you to that, bub," Logan teased as he finished his coffee. "Alright, let's get to work."

An hour or so before Logan was going to break for lunch, he heard the Blackbird arrive. The jet may have been cloaked, but it couldn't hide the wind from its passing or the sound of the engines. Though it was quieter than the last time, so Forge must have been tinkering with it.

"Wrap it up, bub," Logan called out to Clint who was practicing his kicks against a fence post. They needed to build up his leg strength, to better match his upper body. Logan saw lots of running in his future. "We got company."

"Really?" Clint said, jumping back apparently full of energy again, though he had been flagging. "They're early!"

Logan shook his head at the kid's excitement. "Go get cleaned up. They'll land in the meadow back behind the house. Come out when you stop stinking up the joint."

"Ha ha," Clint shot back, rolling his eyes. "I smell better than you, Logan." Despite his arguing, he picked up his gear and was running back to the cabin before Logan could reply.

The old mutant smiled at his ward's retreating back as he made his own way around the cabin to where the Blackbird was just setting down. He had to put a hand on his head to keep from losing his cowboy hat, but he was back to standing with his arms crossed and a bored expression on his face before the gangway opened. He wasn't expecting to be tackled.

"Mr. Logan!" Kitty Pryde squealed as she catapulted from the jet. She wrapped her arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides and squeezing as hard as she could, which was pretty tight for a preteen girl.

"Someone missed you, mein fruend," Kurt laughed as he made a more sedate exit from the jet.

"Yeah, yeah," Logan growled with good humor. "Good to see you too, half-pint."

Behind Nightcrawler, the other blue member of the X-men, Dr. Hank McCoy, finished the post flight checks and came to see the commotion. When he saw Kitty still hugging Wolverine, he decided to join in the fun and ran down the gang way to wrap both of them up in his long blue-furred arms. Kurt looked like he wanted to join the dog-pile, but he was laughing too hard. He fell to his knees and clutched his ribs as he watched his best friend's reunion with their teammates.

"It seems that the old adage is true, absence makes the heart grow fonder," Beast teased his friends.

Kitty laughed and phased out of the heap, leaving the two men wrapped in each other. "It's good to see you again, Mr. Logan. When are you coming back to the school? It's been, like, so boring without you."

"I'm sure," Logan growled. "Git off, you blue furball." He tried to shrug off the muscular mutant, even popping his claws to make a point, but that only made Beast hold on tighter out of self-preservation.

"Um, I could come back?" Clint said, finally showing up and distracting the other X-men. Logan was glad to see him, for the distraction if nothing else, but it was obvious that the boy was hesitant to join the gathering of X-men. Logan worried that it was him, and not the strangers that had the boy uncertain.

"Clint!" Kurt exclaimed, teleporting over to the archer and giving him his own hug. "Meine Güte! You have grown. Storm will be so jealous that she was not able to come."

Beast finally released his captive and strode over to introduce himself to the archer. "Greetings, young friend. Our goddess has been singing your praises and I am very glad to make your aquaintence. I am Dr. Henry McCoy." He held out his hand with a big smile which showed off more of his teeth then he probably intended.

"Nice to meet you, too," Clint said, taking the offered hand without hesitation. "Beast, right?"

"True, that is my other moniker, but you may call me Hank, or Dr. McCoy, if you prefer," Beast responded cheerfully.

Kitty bounced around Hank to introduce herself to the archer. "Hi, I'm Kitty! I'm, like, the youngest X-man."

"Nice to meet you, Kitty," Clint replied, turning on the charm. He made a production of bowing over her hand and giving the girl his best smile. Logan realized that this was probably the first time he had seen a girl his age since the renaissance fair, and he was a teenage boy. Logan might have to keep an eye on them, just to keep them out of trouble. "They call me the Amazing Hawkeye, but you may call me just Clint."

Kitty wrinkled her nose playfully at him, but instead of flirting back, she turned back to Logan and gave him another, more sedate hug.

Logan shook his head, and properly returned the hug this time. "So, why are you here, Kitten?" he asked.

"I missed you," she pouted. "You've been getting into all this fun without us."

"She's right," Kurt said. "What's this about you blowing up a SHIELD base?"

Logan raised an eyebrow at the elf and sighed. "Come inside. We can talk over lunch."

"Right, that reminds me!" Kitty said, jumping away and running back for the jet. "We, like, brought food with us, since we weren't sure what you'd have here, since you're, like, bachelors and all..."

Logan shot a look at Kurt, but the other man just shrugged, apparently as baffled by teenage girls as he was.

Kitty laid out the lunch she brought on the table, then declared her part done, so they loaded up plates with sandwiches and macaroni salad. Only after they all were seated wherever they could find a place in the small cabin that suddenly felt a lot smaller with more people, did Logan deign to explain about SHIELD and Hydra and everything. He kept to the basics, just giving his teammates the barebones and he could see Kurt fighting with himself to keep quiet until the end of the story, the elf's tail twitching in agitation. The elf shouldn't have worried. Clint was from the circus too, so there was no way he would leave the X-men with just Logan's point of view. Just as Logan was explaining about the alarm that triggered the Hydra uprising, Clint jumped to his feet, unable to stay quiet.

"You didn't tell them about how I found out about Hydra or about Agent Reynolds, or anything. Come on!" the boy complained through a mouthful of sandwich.

Logan took a swig of his root beer (the kid was still jumpy around the real stuff), and waved a hand at the archer. He had wondered how long it would take for the kid to speak up; the kid had shown more self-control than he expected. "You tell 'em then, kid. I bet you can tell it better anyhow." He winked at Kurt, who grinned.

Clint lit up. He liked being a hero, and Logan had been working on building the kid up since then. He thought that it was working, and it looked promising based on how Clint told the story of his adventures in the vents, including the shot that nearly castrated a SHIELD agent. Logan looked over at his friends, to see how they were taking it. Kurt was excited, his attention riveted on the boy's story, his tail now gently swaying behind him. Hank looked a bit more skeptical, but when he looked to Logan for confirmation, his eyes got wide when Logan just nodded. Taking another sip off his too sweet beverage, Logan chuckled at his friends. Kitty though, she was harder to get a read on. Logan would almost believe that the girl was jealous. She looked attentive enough but something about her seemed off. It got him thinking, and solidifying a plan that he had been chewing on for a while.

Clint was winding down. Somehow his story had taken him onto the top of the table that Kurt helpfully cleared off. The kid's showmanship shone through and any nervousness he had about meeting more of Logan's teammates seemed to have disappeared. Logan relaxed, happy that the kid was getting along with the X-men and getting more confident. He was going to need that later, if Logan's plan worked out.

"No way is all that true," Kitty pouted. "I mean, sure blowing up a SHIELD base, sounds about right for Wolverine, but you've got to be, like, exaggerating."

Clint looked insulted as he climbed off the table. "No way! It's all true!" he argued back, his cheeks heating up.

"Come on, you didn't lead those agent's through the vents," she insisted, crossing her arms in a move that looked a little too much like Logan.

"I did! Agent Reynold's whole plan hinged on me getting those agents out. If I hadn't they could have all been blown sky high," Clint defended himself.

"That's enough, Miss Pryde," Hank interjected before the kids come to blows. "I'm sure that Mr. Barton told us everything just as it happened." He turned to smile at the young man. "That is an impressive adventure. I can't say I'm surprised, considering the company you keep."

Clint shrugged. "I can't say it's been boring," he said cheekily.

Logan stood up and tossed his can before grabbing a glass of water. "Clint, why don't you show Kitty why they call you Hawkeye? Later, you can go over your lessons with Hank."

"But, I want to stay with you!" Kitty whined, but when Logan raised an eyebrow at her, she relented and followed Clint outside as he grabbed his bow.

The men watched the teenagers through the window for a minute. Then Logan pulled out a six pack of beer from under the sink and handed out the bottles. They drank in silence for a moment before Kurt spoke up first.

"So, Logan, what aren't you telling us?" Kurt asked before taking a swallow of his beer. "I know something is bothering you."

Logan narrowed his eyes at his friend. He considered what he wanted to say. He needed advice about Clint's nightmares that he was sure were his fault and about his up-coming birthday. He thunked his bottle on the table and leaned forward to look both men in the eye. "There might be something I could use your help with," he admitted.