Ok! Gonna get this story done before finishing off requests! Have one started, have three others in the works, so hopefully I won't go too insane writing them all! :P
So, review replies are like 500 words.. One day I'm gonna have to stop replying to you guys in chapters! But today is not the day because I love doing it this way rather than messaging! So, they're down the end today!
Enjoy! :)
He couldn't move his arms..
Why couldn't he move his arms again?
There was some reason, a reason he wasn't all too happy with.
They were confined above his head, not a good position for his still healing shoulder. Maybe that's why he's not happy about it.
He's not mission ready. No one would be stupid enough to let him go out on one. So he wasn't captured, he couldn't be captured.
He couldn't hear..
Why couldn't he hear again?
There was some reason, a reason he was actually happy with.
He takes them out while asleep, he has to, because they hurt if he doesn't.
Was it a long day and he was just sore from whatever he did before bed..?
A smirk spread across his face. Bed, confined, not happy with it..? Natasha might have gotten adventurous last night..
But no. As the haze began to lift from his mind, as the world began to come back to him, he noticed alot more pain than just a little nightly romp would cause. He wasn't on a nice comfortable bed, he was hanging from somewhere. He couldn't smell Natasha's trustworthy scent of vanilla and gunpowder. He couldn't quite pin point what he could smell..
Sawdust..? Animal crap..?
Oh no..
He snapped his eyes open when the memories of what happened came rushing back into his mind.
Stark, he was taken. Clint was taken. They were about to fucking die and it was all because of him! Stark took his aids to do.. something..
Something must have worked..
He looked around a little but couldn't see Stark anywhere. He could see Trickshot and Swordsman alright, both on one knee as they tried recover from something. Their shoulders were slightly shaking, so they were speaking angrily, but their backs were to Clint so he couldn't read their lips.
He was alot better at that than he was at sign language. So many people had so many different ways of signing something, but only one pretty consistent way of speaking it so he liked reading lips alot more!
His eyes, more importantly, caught sight of his aids. He frowned a little at the state they were in, completely ripped apart and not even looking like hearing aids anymore. There was no chance of him surviving this without being able to hear..
He could already feel it, the tug back to unconsciousness. It's a main reason why he panicked when Stark took them out in the first place. When that sense is gone, SHIELD concluded after some tests that are against so many human rights that himself and Natasha are actually forbidden from speaking of them, his pain threshold drops. All senses heighten when one is gone, after all. It helped with his already near perfect eyesight, so they were going to be happy just leaving him deaf since it helped make him an even better Hawkeye, but their ideas soon changed when they tested his sense of touch, his pain receptors more accurately. He yielded so quick, five times easier than usual, at a simple pain test, one that he'd usually shake off yet it took him a week in the infirmary to fully mentally recover from.
So, right now, he was (for lack of a better term, or a more appropriate one) completely and royally fucked in the ass.
One final thought crossed his mind, and this one made his heart drop.
Stark was actually gone.
Suppose he was happy about that, it was the mission after all, get Tony out by any means necessary. But this was different. He obviously had something that shook the guys, got them to the ground, got them out of it long enough for him to run. So why was Clint still here? Why was he still chained to this bloody roof and not trying to convince Natasha he was fine and didn't need a doctor?
Why did Tony leave him here to die?
Because that's exactly what he did. He must have known he angered the two carnies, pissed them off to new levels, and still he left Clint here to take their wrath.
And here I was.. Thinking we bonded..
He thought sadly to himself, finding no anger towards the billionaire though. How could he be angry? He'd probably have done the same thing if given the chance. He'd have run, left the dead man behind. Too much weight, too much baggage, too much risk for someone who was gonna die anyway.
Clint could feel it. Too much blood was lost, his hands and feet were numb, usually meaning his body was shutting down. The blackness wouldn't leave the edge of his vision, meaning he was constantly on the verge of just leaving and never coming back.
He raised his head as much as he could and grinned a little though when the pair in the room looked to his direction.
Hey, just because you're on deaths door, doesn't mean you can't have a little fun before you kick it.
"Get out smarted by city folk?" Clint asked as smugly as he could, though it was more than likely slurred. Lack of energy and no hearing? Man, he'd be shocked if they understood him at all!
'...Mouth... Little shit.' He was better at lip reading alright, but Swordsman was angry, so his jaw was clenched, which means all he could make out were those three words. More than like being told to watch his mouth.
"No point." Clint shrugged, purposely, not out of habit. He had to put himself through the pain of the action to build himself up some adrenaline, otherwise this suicide mission just wouldn't work out! "I'm completely deaf here."
The raised eyebrows he received wasn't really what he was expecting to see! They almost looked concerned for him, like that fact just broke their hearts. Clint knew better though.
What shocked him even more, because as long as he knew the guy this was a skill that was well and truly hidden, was when Trickshot started signing to him.
When did he..?
Something in Clint's mind made him panic, thinking they followed him enough to learn he's deaf, or got infor on it from somewhere. Because if they knew that, what else did they know? But no, the words that were signed put his mind to rest.
'You messing with us?'
Clint took a moment to lose himself in his thoughts. Just what was going on here?
These guys were ruthless killers. They tortured him all through his younger years, they conditioned him to fear everything there is about authority and made it so he couldn't even go to a fun fair without fighting back a panic attack.
Yet here they are, showing concern..?
Trick.
That's the word that ran through his mind.
They needed him, they needed him on their side for when SHIELD showed up, for WHEN Tony brought the Avengers here. Because he will. Before or after Clint died remained to be seen.
It was just like when they needed him to take the fall for them, when their rap sheets were too long to get offered parole. They'd be overly nice to him so he'd take the fall and spend a night in prison for them. They'd act concerned when he got out, apologise over and over again, give him an actual pillow to use at night as a thanks.
They'd be the closest things to parents he could remember.
But as soon as his usefulness ran it's course, or they felt the deed he did was well and truly repaid, things would return to normal.
And this wasn't going to be any different.
Still, though, he'd humour them.
Because he needed out of these chains..
"Had some hard times with SHIELD." Clint smiled a little sadly, looking to the ground at the thought. He didn't have the safest attitude on missions, like now, which meant hell for the doctors. "Hell, just a few months ago a building nearly crushed me to death."
Wouldn't be the first time a building collapsed on him, would you believe that? Of course you would, because you know what sort of luck the great Hawkeye has! But it was definitely the closest he's ever been to death, besides today. Even the Sokovia incident wasn't this bad.
Nope! No thinking of that! You literally just got the kid out of your head, you idiot!
He looked back up after a moment or two to himself, watching his former mentors. They were talking, very lowly, hunched shoulders. He couldn't read their lips properly since they were both side ways facing him. A glance was thrown his way every few words, meaning they were definitely talking about him.
Well, who else would they be talking about? Hardly discussing the lethal capabilities of the Black Widow at a time like this!
Though they really should be.. Because the second she realised they managed to hurt Clint again, she was going to pull some tricks out of her bag specially for them!
"You're the bow and arrow kid who helped me with Stark Industries!"
Finally! She realised! It just took her forever and a day to!
"And here I was thinking you forgot me.." He replied through a laugh, watching her curiously.
Something was flashing across her face, not too pleasant thoughts if the creases on her brow were anything to go by.
"Clint..You saved me twice." She said quietly, maybe it wasn't quietly though. Maybe the fever was finally getting to him that little bit more.
"And you never thanked me twice.. And tried kill me once." He chuckled, trying to ease her worries about the whole thing as his eyes slipped closed and sleep took him.
"Just wait until I see him.." She growled, teeth grinding together in anger. That was what he woke to, by his bed, and it was terrifying! "There'll be no way in hell he'll make it out alive or dead without feeling what you felt, and more."
Clint would be lying if he said he never saw her like this before. He has seen this side of her before, the notorious and world wide feared Black Widow side, but rarely.
Those times had been on the few missions they had been on together, but it was never this close to him. It was usually through a scope as he sniped the room she brought their mark to. Not even when he was sent to kill her, when she had the gun trained on him and was about to take the shot, even then he didn't see this fire in her eyes. This was up close and personal, this scared him! And he realised, this look, this Black Widow mentality, was specially reserved for the people she hated so much that she just couldn't find any other course of action other than killing them in the most horribly painful ways imaginable.
Maybe it wasn't a good thing to do, let his past life slip out.. While he was asleep, she obviously had time enough to let it sink in and plot every way she was going to get revenge.
But he had fever brain right now! No way to stop such things coming out! Especially when he's so vulnerable and she asked about the scar in the first place!
He gave a low chuckle from his position on the bed, his eyes slipping closed once more before he could feel the soothing cold cloth placed on his forehead again.
This was a new side of Natasha, a caring side, they hadn't been paired for too long, about eight months so far, so he didn't see much of her personally. But this was definitely a side he liked!
"They're locked up somewhere, Natasha.." He whispered, her hand pausing in it's wiping though.
"They?" She asked sharply, and he paused to think why she was mad.
Oh, he only mentioned Duquesne to her.. Woops!
"Well.. I mean.." He started, an embarrassed grin on his face as he looked up at her frowning face. "Swordsman attacking me was just one little thing.. Trickshot torturing me was the worst part.."
Shut up Barton..
Shut up..
The fire in her eyes just got ten times worse, and he could just see the wheels in her mind turning.
Oh they were gonna pay..
Why does she always come to mind before you die, Barton..?
Dammit, that's what love does, apparently!
His head was dropped to his chest, so he guessed he had passed out a bit without releasing it.
That wasn't what was standing out in his mind though.
His knees were sore.
His knees were killing him.
Weird, right? Weird that, in the long list of things that are wrong with him right now, the horribly long list of things that were about to kill him, that's what he's most interested in.
Just hold on!
Because the pain in his knees was being felt because he was, somehow, now kneeling on the ground. His arms were still above his head, but the chain was becoming more and more slack, and more and more weight was being applied to his knees.
He smirked to himself, keeping his eyes closed though and his head bent to his chest to lure his captor into a false sense of security.
He knew these guys. Sometimes he thought he knew them better than they knew themselves. He could always guess what state they'd be in three states from now, he could guess how long they'd be there, could tell which performers would be there and which wouldn't, and for what reasons aswell. He knew these guys because he knew the circus, they worked for the circus and that was it. So, he knew, they wouldn't risk SHIELD or The Avengers crawling all over it and risking business. They'd have to move the archer, they'd have to get him out of here as quickly and as discretely as they possibly could.
They were doing that now, the chain was becoming slacker and slacker until Clint could actually feel his arms beginning to lower for the first time in what felt like forever.
He could sense someone by him, he didn't care which of the pair it was, he just had to take any of them out.
He took a moment, took the time to make sure they were indeed by his side, waited until they were taking his arm to lift him to his feet.
A smirk, a crack of his neck, and Hawkeye was back in action.
He snapped his eyes open to get a view on who was by his side. Swordsman, that bastard Duquesne, that's perfect! Get the big man out first then worry about the arrows!
Adrenaline, he found, was the reason he was alive. That wonderful little thing that surges through everyone's body during important life changing times saved him more times than he could count. Today was just another one of those times.
His hands were behind his back, so that had to be resolved first and foremost. Before good ol' Swordsman had a chance to react, Barton jumped up in the air, his knees tucked to his chest so he could swipe his arms and therefore the chain out to the front.
Duquesne was shocked, but Clint just shot him a warm smile, like the one they'd give him before sending an arrow through his chest.
The second the older man reached for his sword, Clint was on him. He lunged forward, both hands gripping part of the chain so he could wrap it around Swordsman neck. Twice.
The gargling sound that came from his mouth couldn't be heard by Clint, though he was sure it was there from the foam that was coming from the corners.
The mans hands grasped helplessly at the chain constricting his wind pipe, his eyes wide and going red with lack of oxygen.
Barton didn't care.
He needed to get out.
He needed to make sure Tony go out and they didn't just kill him and dump him somewhere.
When the body in his arms went limp, he let the chain go slack, Duquesne's body quickly tumbling to the ground. He hated the guy, more than anything in the world, but he just hated killing that little bit more. Unconscious would do fine.
Once Clint untangled the chain and grabbed a breath, he glanced around for a sign of Chisholm. His attack was done in under thirty seconds, at most, so the archer couldn't have gone too far.
Clint froze when he met Chisholm's eyes. Right by them, the tip of a nocked arrow, pointing right at Barton's skull.
The opening of the tent was just behind Trickshot.. He just had to get past him, take an arrow somewhere non-lethal, and make a run for it..
Well, you've done more difficult escape methods, Barton.. This'll be fun..
He didn't have to have his aids in to know what Trickshot was shouting, so Barton complied and held his hands in the air, slowly lowering himself to his knees.
Chisholm was careful around the younger archer, Clint could tell by the way he carefully tip toed over to him, arrow still aimed high, even when he hunched infront of Barton, the arrow tip was placed against his cheek in a not so friendly reminder that Trickshot now held the power to kill him with just the release of a finger.
He always had that power, really.
'We... get you help.' Only words he could read, even with Chisholm so calm and collected right now. He never was the most eloquent speaker!
"Don't bullshit." Clint said with a shake of his head, his hands had to fall to brace himself on the ground. It caused Trickshot to jump in fright and the arrow to cut a nice fresh line across his cheek. It was fine though, he couldn't fell it, adrenaline was helping with that.
'I'm not!' Those were clear, the shock on the older man's face showing them more than anything. He must have shouted, because Clint watched as the man let out a sigh and shook his head. 'May have hurt you.. Never lied.' There were words in between, but Barton got the general gist of what the man was trying to say.
It was true, but it didn't fill Clint with a great deal of admiration or thanks for that. He never lied. Neither of them ever lied. They did what Clint did on missions, what Natasha did. They bent the truth to suit their needs, and bent it again to get themselves out of situations. Just like when they said they'd let Tony go.
Tony..
"Fine. Tell me and I'll play nice." Clint spat out. If he could distract the man long enough, then he could make a break for it, and go find Stark. That's priority right now. Finding Stark. Getting Stark help for that concussion. If it's left too long, he'll start to get worse headaches, and they might end up losing him for a while.
There was a stand off. A moment where both men locked eyes and neither would look away.
His time in SHIELD taught him how to read people from this. It taught him how to guess a mark's worse fears or insecurities, how to gauge how a person was feeling, what they were thinking. It turned him, most importantly, into a human lie detector.
Something flashed across the archers eyes and, just as soon as it was there, it was gone again.
Doubt.
He was going to try lie to Clint, but must have decided it was useless.
'You have too much information on us.' He finally said, deliberately slowly, so Clint could catch each word. 'Hydra has a wiping centre..'
"You deal with Hydra!?" Clint yelled in shock, his eyebrows hitting the roof at the comment.
Trickshot scowled at Barton and nodded, his hand tightening on the string he was still holding back.
'Easier way to deal with you though.'
Clint smirked a little, and the cocking of Chisholm's eyebrow made him realise he succeeded in confusing the older man.
But he just saw the most amazing sight in the world and couldn't help but smirk.
"There is.." Clint nodded, glancing behind Chisholm once more before back to him. "It ends with an arrow.. A gun.. A shield.. And some fancy hand shooter.."
Chisholm tensed before slowly turning around, a nice quartet of Avengers standing in the tents entrance. That was the best sight ever, that was the sight that nearly had Clint weeping. Just as slowly as he turned, the older archer stood and un-tensed his bow string, his hands going up in defeat.
Tony was there, beside Kate, so he was safe and in Iron Man gear! His hand was raised, about half a second away from shooting a hole through the archers chest. Cap was next with his shield ready to be thrown, Clint could safely say this was the first time he's seen the Captain properly pissed off! And the best sight of all was Natasha and the look that he saw all those years ago, the look of 'I'm going to do unspeakably horrible things to you in a minute!'.
All three of them would kill him though.. He needed Chisholm alive, needed SHIELD to take him and Duquesne in and keep them away. So, he looked to his little apprentice.
"Kate.." Clint said with a smirk, giving her a slight nod when she looked to him. She had an arrow of her own nocked and aimed at Chisholm's shoulder. Never a kill shot. She was just as angry as the others, he could tell that, but he taught her to avoid kill shots unless a kill order was given. "If you please."
A smirk spread across her face, but he wasn't able to catch her reply. She let the arrow fly though and it embedded itself nicely into Trickshot's shoulder.
Before the bastard even hit the ground, Clint had. He fell backwards onto his back, looking up to the ceiling as all the fight and adrenaline left his system.
They had come to save him..
He may be out of energy, definitely out of time, but as some figures of his friends started forming in his vision, he just had to laugh.
He laughed and laughed some more, not because it was funny, but because it was the complete opposite.
It wasn't funny, but he was safe. They were all worried, he could see it on their faces. Tony's mask was up, Natasha was by his side. They were frantically saying stuff to him, but he just laughed.
He was probably going to die.
He was definitely going to die.
So, he laughed. Otherwise, he'd just cry.
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REVIEWERS!
poertygril22; Well I'm super glad you like it so much! I love writing Clint, feel like I can relate to him sometimes :P Just, not the mad superhero team mates or crazy circus backstory.. But yeah, thank you for the review! :)
AleuStark; Well one of them posted at least! Dunno what's wrong if the others didn't I might have my review mods on a weird setting, I'll check that for you! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! And you'll find out :P Cause I have two different ends to this story and dunno which one I want as the actual chapter 9 and 10 yet :P Thank you for the review and two other attempts at it! :)
Niom Lamboise; I always have this idea in my head that, sure, Stark acts like he doesn't care, but if himself and a team mate were in the position he finds Clint in now, he'd go complete and total momma-bear on the guys who hurt him! I dunno, just what I like to think when writing him :P Like, as soon as this whole ordeal is over between them, I just see him going back to his ususal, albeit less hostile, self :P Glad you're enjoying it! :)
Anon; ANON, MY DEAR OLD FRIEND, WHY YOU NO GIVE ME A NAME!? I LIKE KNOWING YOUR NAME! YOU'RE NOW CALLED ALLEN FREDRICKSON THE THIRD!
SO!
Allen Fredrickson the Third; Well, kind sir/madam, I'm glad you're enjoying the story! And trust me, you telling me that I do a fine job writing Clint honestly has me over joyed! I love writing him, more than any other, because himself and Steve are just the ones I can seem to relate to the most. I dunno, I just do :P They're both soldier types, I can respect that! Trying to slip comic things in.. But, honestly, not on purpose :P I love the comics so much that I sometimes actually forget things in them weren't in any of the movies and, well, they slip into stories like they were :P Glad you're enjoying it Fredrickson!
...Ok, that was a little weird of me, I'm sorry, but that's how I'll treat anons from now on! I will just be giving you a name! :D
ELOSHAZZY; Was just thinking of you the other day! ...That sounds kind of stalkerish, right? OH WELL! Touchy-feely Tony is a favourite of mine to write, I'll be honest! It's just tricky sometimes cause you get some people giving out that he's not in character or the real Tony Stark wouldn't say things like that, but in all reality, he definitely would. People forget that, yes, he's an ass. An over bearing ass who does need to be taken down a peg or two sometimes, but he's also a human. They may make a running joke in the movies about him not having a heart, but man, I dunno! I like nice Tony cause he still tries be an ass while being nice and I just like that! And wow man.. Your little synopsis there was pretty damn amazing! Didn't know it was so emotional but I'll take your word for it and I apologise if it's killing you! Not my intention! :P Thanks for the review, sorry I rambled there :P