Christmas came without warning and with very little consideration for Tony's patience. Mom was home, for once. Tony had completely fogged out Thanksgiving. After hearing from one of Mrs. Linwood's other kids that Christmases with her were always just sort of sad and quiet since she could only afford so much, though, Tony decided that it was time to take matters into his own hands.
"She's really nice," the girl who had a thing for horses told him when he cornered her at her locker. Bruce was out sick that day. "I mean, she could have had a comfortable retirement but instead she took in five kids. And, yeah, it's crowded, and holidays are quiet, but it's still a lot better than other homes we've been to."
She shrugged and turned to leave, but Tony grabbed her arm. "Yeah, about that. What happened at Bruce's last place, huh?" he asked.
Shaking her head, the girl pulled her arm apologetically free. "It's not my place to tell you that, I'm sorry," she said. But she didn't sound sorry. There was a hard glint in her eyes that very clearly told Tony to mind his own fucking business. Bruce would probably be getting a concerned talk about "that Stark guy" later as it were. If there was one thing Tony really admired about foster kids, aside from the obvious guts it took to live through hell and still get up in the morning, was that they stuck together, tightly-knit as anything. But that didn't change Tony's mind at all. He let her go and went home that day with a mission.
"Mom, can Bruce come over for Christmas dinner?"
"Who?" asked Mom absently, flitting around looking for a missing file of paperwork.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Bruce, Mom. You met him around, like, Halloween or something."
"Where did I put...? That's nice, dear."
"So can he come to Christmas dinner or what?"
"Oh, sweetie, I'd love to, but I have to run and-"
"Mom, will you listen to me for two fucking seconds?!" he yelled.
Sometimes extreme measures had to be taken.
The files hit the floor and Mom jumped half a foot, staring at him with wide eyes. They watched each other for a minute or so, not saying a word, not daring to so much as breathe too loudly, then something broke in Mom's eyes and she wound herself around him in a tight embrace. "Oh...oh, Tony, baby, I'm sorry. God, look at me, what am I doing? I've been so preoccupied with Dad and the damn company...sweetie, I'm so, so, sorry, I'll do better, I promise."
"It's okay, Mom." The words were falling out even though Tony really wanted to say You're fucking right you've been too preoccupied with the company. What are you doing, Mom? You're ignoring your only kid, you didn't even notice the liquor cabinet was broken, you're a fucking zombie."I know you're busy. It's okay, really."
But she was Mom, and she was trying.
Tony wanted to get Bruce a better cell phone for Christmas, but he practically had to drag the guy to the store and once they got there, Bruce wouldn't so much as go near the high-tech ones Tony had in mind. He just stood in the middle of the store with his eyes shut and arms crossed, probably counting to a hundred in his head to keep from throttling Tony, which, okay, didn't make any sense. "What, do you celebrate Hanukkah or something? I just wanna get you something nice!" he explained when he held up the most expensive phone in the store and Bruce stormed out.
Bruce's weirdly intense eyes pinned him in place on the frosty sidewalk, and that wild, dark, caged thing was back where Tony's friend used to be. "That isn't nice, Tony, it's...condescending. It's degrading, and I don't want it," he said, voice loud and shaking. He looked small and fierce in the baggy green coat Thor had passed on to him when he noticed Bruce's had holes, his whole face pinched with barely contained anger.
"But I want to-!"
There were two crunching steps in the snow and then Tony was sprawled across the sidewalk like a rag doll abused by a really enthusiastic toddler. Bruce was strong when he was mad. "You think I don't want to?!" he howled over the biting wind. "You think I don't see things I know you'd like and want to give it to you, Tony? You fucking asshole! I can barely afford to get something for Mrs. Linwood, let alone you, or Thor, or my girlfriend! You're so fucking rich!" He was panting, barely breathing he was so mad, and maybe Tony just didn't get it but that didn't stop him from standing up again.
"Do you wanna go to the circus?" he shouted back into Bruce's face.
And yeah, that shut him up, though it obviously did nothing for his mood. "What?"
"The fucking circus is in town. Do you wanna go or not, motherfucker?"
After another moment of silent gaping, Bruce gave him a shove and said, "Fine! God dammit..."
Every year around the same time, the circus came to Shield County and set up in the open field out east between the woods and town, capitalizing on families wanting to spend time together without having to talk to one another. Dad used to take them to fulfill his yearly Family Time quota, and now that Tony was annoyed with Bruce but didn't want the little guy out of his sight (having quickly learned that Angry Bruce was only two sashays away from Inconsolably Broken For Days Bruce, and yeah, Tony was not about to let his buddy wallow in that kind of misery alone) it seemed the perfect solution. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, knee-to-knee, arms crossed and staring determinedly in opposite directions as music blared and elephants circled the dirt stage.
The circus had sort of lost its appeal since Tony was little. Back when he was so little had had to sit on Dad's shoulders it was like the greatest day of the year, clowns and music and animals and the warmth of both parents sat beside him, usually smiling, no phones in sight, yeah, that was it. That was heaven. Now he was a cynical teenager, and the circus was just an assembly of sad bedraggled animals, music warped off key by ancient speakers, and a strong manure-smell that would stick in his nose for days.
They were silent through the first half of the circus, bored as hell watching elephants walk in circles and then watching horses walk in the opposite direction, while some fatass carnie ringleader yelled "Amazing!" into a megaphone to encourage applause. Then:
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the Shield County stage for the very first time, the sharpest bow and keenest eyes in the world...Hawkeye, the wonder archer!"
Tony's eyebrows quirked against his permission as a skinny kid with wiry-muscled arms and a bow, wearing a ridiculous purple Robin Hood looking costume, stepped through the flap at the back of the tent. In the corner of Tony's vision, Bruce sat up a little straighter.
"Hawkeye, the wonder archer, will not only be displaying his astounding marksmanship, but he will do it without the benefit of hearing! Our young champion was deaf at birth, but that does not prevent him seeing through eyes in the back of his head! Hawkeye, can you hear me?"
The boy nodded curtly.
"Can you hear the audience cheering for you?"
The audience roared. He smirked and nodded again.
"Hawkeye, kindly remove your hearing aids!"
With two deft flicks of the wrist, the kid's hearing aids dropped uselessly to the dirt. He closed his eyes, clasping both hands around his bow, and waited.
In a really annoying stage-whisper, the ringleader asked through the megaphone - no, really, why bother with a megaphone if you're whispering and the kid's deaf? - "Hawkeye, can you hear me?"
The boy didn't move.
"Audience!"
The audience cheered, and still nothing.
Once there was quiet again Tony stood up and shouted, "Hey, Katniss, I fucked your mom last night in your bed!"
Bruce grabbed him and yanked him back down onto the hard bench. "The fuck are you doing?" he hissed, but Tony was gesturing victoriously at Hawkeye, who hadn't so much as twitched.
"Proved that he actually couldn't hear anything, duh."
Acrobatic rigging that had never been used by the circus before slithered down from the top of the tent, and with one arm Hawkeye allowed himself to be hauled all the way to the peak where what looked like the crow's nest from a pirate ship was sitting. For a few moments Hawkeye arranged himself, rather like a bird in its nest, and with the crowd watching enraptured, within a few moments targets started flying through the air. Even at the speed they were going the kid didn't miss a single target, sometimes even hitting two or three with one arrow.
If the crowd had been freaking out then, it was nothing compared to the roar when Hawkeye jumped from the nest, hit four targets at once, and caught himself on the acrobat rigging only a man's height away from the heads of the shrieking audience. Tony squinted at the quiver, more interested in how he kept the arrows from falling out upside-down than he was the act, frowning when the kid just wouldn't hold still long enough. Bruce's eyes were as wide as really wide round things as he watched the archer swing with ease through flips and turns and shot targets that were behind his back. "How'd he know it was there? He can't hear anything!" he asked in awe.
"Bruce, they've probably practiced this a million-"
The smaller boy's calloused hand took Tony's chin and made him look at where the flying disc-like targets were coming from, and oh. Well damn, because targets were being tossed up into the air by spectators, not other carnies. The ringleader was running around as quickly as his stubby little legs could carry him, handing out target disks to all within reach. No way. Tony elbowed his way to the front of the stands and thrust out an expectant hand. He wasn't about to let this chance pass up- besides, it was his civic duty to try weeding out cons like this; the circus very well could have had plants in the crowd.
Instead of a thin disk, Tony's hand came back with four wooden rings hooked around his fingers, and he grinned wickedly before scurrying back up to Bruce's side and handing him two. They let fly with the rings. Tony threw his low to see what would happen, and Hawkeye shot it through the rim, right into the ground, mid-flip in the air and- "What the fuck holy shit!" Tony shrieked, gripping the sides of his head in both hands as the crowd screamed and the ringleader continued singing Hawkeye's praises.
"Would you just look at this young wonder, ladies and gentlemen? Completely deaf in both ears, and he picked up his first bow only half a year ago to the day! Astounding, how the hawk flies! Just wait and see...!"
Tony and Bruce stepped out of the tent at nightfall, and they were so worked up by the Hawkeye's performance that they forgot they'd even fought at all. All according to plan, obviously. They climbed into Tony's car and were halfway to Mrs. Linwood's when he turned onto a side street and stopped. "Dude, let's go back." Bruce was looking at him like he was crazy, and hey, maybe he was. But Tony couldn't get that kid out of his brain. How did a kid learn how to do that? "No, really, let's get Thor and Steve and come back, I want them to see this kid."
"Can't we just bring them back tomorrow to see the show?"
He shook his head. "One night only. Come on! Let's do it! You know what? Fuck you and your opinions, I'm getting Steve and Thor so ha."
Bruce looked incredulously around, hands flung out. "Who said I was arguing? God damn, you're testy," he grumbled before crossing and arms and slouching back in the passenger seat. For a guy with impeccable manners around adults, Bruce was a master at slouching, almost as good as Tony, he lived and breathed slouching. Like a slouchy, petulant monk.
It was lucky that Shield County was so small because it only took ten minutes to get to Thor's house, and after that only like two seconds to get him in the car, one arm around each of them as he leaned up between their seats. "Brothers! What brings us on an adventure this night?" he asked cheerfully. Loki watched them pull out of the drive from his window, looking sullen.
"We're going to the circus to stalk an archer Tony has a crush on," explained Bruce, and yeah, Tony gave him a smack for that. Don't worry, he kept one hand on the steering wheel at all times, and half a mind on the road too.
Steve took a little more convincing to leave his final project, which was apparently in a very delicate state, but Tony knew how to get him. Intermittently bribing him with McDonald's apple pies and openly screaming, "STEVE WE'RE GOING TO THE CIRCUS AND YOU'RE COMING WITH US!" in his face finally did the trick and he climbed into the car beside Thor. Puff, puff. Tony smirked and spun the car in the dust. Puff, puff, puffpuffpuffpuff...
So Tony had lied about the circus being in town one night only, but he knew that if he let the matter sit and simmer he wouldn't be able to talk everyone into going with him. The carnies were out in their tents and trailers, setting up for a good old-fashioned...whatever it was circus people did in their off-hours. The Hawkeye kid was sat outside one of the trailers, quiver at his side and making minute adjustments on his bow.
"Hey, you're that kid!" Tony yelled, because he couldn't help himself, because that guy was fucking awesome, so what? Yeah, he was kind of having a fanboy episode, but he was Tony Stark and could do what he wanted.
Eyes flicking up at the teenage billionaire who had planted his ass in the dirt two feet away, the Hawkeye smirked and turned back to his bow. "Are you crazy, or just eccentric?"
"I invented eccentric," replied Tony smoothly, gesturing for everyone else to sit down. "How long have you really been shooting?"
"Tony..." sighed Steve, but he was dropping down to sit in a slapdash little circle with the others. Bruce smacked Tony in the back of the head.
The kid shrugged. "It's okay. Not a lot of people actually show up like this. What's up?" He was staring at their mouths, and after a second Tony realized he didn't have his hearing aids in. "Hey, you know, you look like that guy, the rich one with the guns, like his picture's been all over the news, interrupting my cartoons." He pointed an arrow idly at Tony as he said it, but there wasn't anything accusing about it.
Besides, Tony was too busy gaping that the best archer in the world watched cartoons to actually be offended. "Dude, how old are you, anyway?"
"If the authorities ask, I turned eighteen the day I started performing," shrugged Hawkeye - what the hell was his name? - with another self-assured smirk. "And that's what I'm gonna tell you too, unless you give me a really good reason."
"I'm Tony," said Tony.
"That's Bruce, Steve, and Thor," said Tony.
"You do cool shit with arrows," said Tony.
"Where'd you learn to do that?" said Tony.
Finally Bruce snapped and shoved him. "Tony, shut the fuck up!" he snapped.
Thor chuckled to himself. "This quarrel is most amusing."
"Guys," interrupted Steve with as much authority he could muster from behind his inhaler. As the eldest, they felt kind of obligated to listen to him and shut up a little bit. Tony kept grumbling, though, because it was his idea to talk to the kid anyway. Steve offered out his hand to shake like a proper young gentleman. "It's nice to meet you...?"
Rolling his eyes, the kid very briefly shook Steve's hand. "Clint. And that's all I'm telling you."
"Where are your hearing aids, Clint?" asked Tony.
"I took 'em out for the night, so what?" But he was hunching over, getting defensive, only looking up from his bow to watch their mouths move.
"So I don't think someone who was born deaf would have scars around their ears," Tony replied.
Clint froze better than a hawksicle, staring at them, caught, and rose to his feet in one fluid motion. "Listen man, I don't show up in your house and fuck with your life, do I?" he demanded, but with the hand not clutching his bow he was signing against his leg. None of them were adept at sign language, but they had all been forced to learn the alphabet in Kindergarten. Even as he railed at Tony about nosing into his life and his business, and fucking off, his hand spelled G-E-T-O-U-T-O-F-H-E-R-E and then he waved at them, looking over his shoulder at some of the older circus people who were watching from the lip of a tent. The scars around his ears were old, but not from-birth old, and Clint couldn't have been more than fifteen.
And oh, fuck, Steve was mad. It was the maddest any of them would probably ever see him. Like, he looked on the verge of just picking Clint up, asthma and whatever million other health problems he had, and carrying him to the car slung over his shoulder like a garbage bag (which was really a funny analogy, because Tony was pretty sure he had never seen anyone carry a garbage bag over their shoulder. Like what if it split? Then you'd have shit all over your clothes! But anyway-) as he hissed, "Clint, are you being kept here against your will?"
"Dude, of course not, come on!" Clint shot back, hand spelling out J-U-S-T-G-O-A-W-A-Y on his thigh. "I'm of age, I'm happy, and you're crazy, so get lost before I call the elephant tamer to beat all your asses!" Just to make a stronger point he strung an arrow onto his bow, and they decided to play it safe and run back to Tony's car.
Steve was already calling the cops by the time they reached the 'vette, and within an hour the place was swarming with cars and flashing lights and cops who hadn't seen any action since Tony's last party. One guy who looked like Clint but, well, taller, went running off into the woods with Clint screaming his head off after him. The kid himself was taken off in a van to the police station for processing into foster care, and half the circus had to be taken to the next town over for lock-up and questioning. For the night, though, after processing, Clint was taken to the nearest foster home in the area.
Oh, no, not Mrs. Linwood's.
Principal Fury's.
Yeah. Crazy shit, right?