A/N: Ayy. So this is not an official update or anything, which I know I have royally failed you all on. But it's a promise that I'm going to continue with this. Next chapter should be up before the end of the year, maybe within the next to week. Before the end of the year for sure.
Have this little bonus chapter in the meantime. It's from Clint's point of view during the reaping. I had some leftover feels from seeing Mockingjay P2, so on that note, here you go.
"Natasha Romanoff!"
For a second, Clint thinks his heart stopped. But, no, there's his pulse, pounding in his ears like ceremonial drums celebrating a bloodbath. Oh god, not her. Her name echoes in his head.
Natasha.
Natasha.
The girl he loved, and could very well be in love with.
He snaps back to reality to find all eyes trained on something to his right, over in the girls' pen. He can't look. He stares straight ahead at the stage.
"Natasha Romanoff?" Maria Hill's sickly sweet voice comes on over the microphone again, and it hurts Clint's ear. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath, but his chest feels like it's being constricted. He can't get enough air. Nat's going to die. His lungs just won't cooperate, his ears ring, Nat's going to the Games, he clasps his sweaty hands together in an attempt to get them to stop shaking. Nat's in trouble, or is he the one who's going to die?
He certainly feels like it. Clint struggles to push the panic down, but it rises right back up and oh god he might throw up on the guy in front of him.
"'Tasha, 'Tasha!" Jemma's voice rings out with the same terror that Clint feels.
"Jemma, go find mom." Natasha's voice breaks. Mom? May's not mom unless everything has gone to shit.
Jemma begs and cries. Clint's eyes snap open. He needs to pull the girl back, get there before the Peacekeepers do. He turns and starts, but stops immediately as Grant is there, lifting Jemma away with his new strength. Clint returns to his original place, standing stock still and staring straight at the stage, ignoring Maria Hilloff to his right all together.
He can't look at her. He's not strong enough. He didn't know that he would feel this way, this terror and panic over Natasha. He told himself back when he met her he wouldn't get too attached, that she was just his hunting partner. But then Clint really knew her and was welcomed into their broken family along with his brother and then he took tesserae and royally fucked up original plan but now he and Barney had this great family and now he's here.
He feels like he's going to die for this girl.
"Well, on to the boys."
He will die for this girl.
"Leopold Fitz!"
No, he's going to die for that family.
He takes a deep breath and finds that his lungs are fine, and his hands don't shake as he started moving people out of his way. They start parting for him, clearing a path. Faster, he thinks, faster, and then he breaks through the crowd, right in front of the shaking little Leo.
Seeing the boy so scared creates a surge of anger and protectiveness. He moves in front of him, putting a comforting hand on Leo's shoulder.
"I volunteer!" Clint says, his voice clear and confident. He gives the boy a winning smile. Leo's smile falters quickly, but he really tries. Clint thinks he sees tears in the boy's eyes, and he can't look at that, so he just gives Leo a wink and turns to the stage.
"That's just lovely," Hill says, "But I believe that we're supposed to introduce the reaping winner, and then -"
"What does it matter?" Clint's eyes move from the colorful women to Trip's dad, who's standing tall and with the authority he rarely sees in the kind man. His voice sounds pained. "What does it possibly matter? Let him come forward."
Clint shoots Leo a grin over his shoulder and he walks forward, focusing intently on making his stride looks effortless and arrogant. He is a proud volunteer, or at the very least he wants to look like one. Clint figures he's probably the only volunteer anyone can remember from 12. He gives Maria a grin as he shakes her hand.
"Well, bravo! That is the spirit of the Games!" She sounds happy for once. I'm glad I could make this interesting for you, Clint thinks. "What's your name?"
"Clint Barton." He keeps his voice and smile clear and bright, until he sees his brother. He swallows hard when he meets the other man's eyes. Barney looks sad. He nods at his little brother, and Clint returns it.
"Well, well, well. Come on everybody, let's give a cheer for our newest tribute!" The crowd is absolutely silent, and Clint resists the urge to squirm. The frazzled escort must feel awkward too, opening her mouth to speak. She's interrupted by every single person in the crowd raising three finger to their lips, and then to the tributes. Holy shit.
It's a declaration of love and goodbye, that's what Barney told him. But who do they love? Clint can't fathom the answer. Maybe it's just for Natasha and her family, known or known of by nearly everyone. It can't be for Clint.
"All right then," Maria says slowly before continuing with one of the ceremonial history lessons or whatever. Clint usually tunes out this part, and he's not one to break tradition.
He glances at Natasha through the whole thing, not even trying to be subtle. Then Hills makes them shakes hands.
It's the first time Clint has gotten the chance to look into her eyes, and man, is she angry. Her grip is firm and her gaze is cold, and if they weren't on stage and broadcasting this out to all of Hydra she would've smacked him already. Then her green eyes soften and she looks so lost and conflicted and if they weren't on stage, he'd hold her tight and tell her everything was going to be okay. But they are, and it isn't, and now their off to the Games, together.
My god, Clint thinks. She's going to be the death of me.