Q: So, does this chapter get one of those warning things?

A: You know, I was JUST thinking about that, and I realized that this ENTIRE STORY deserves a warning, being:

WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS MARVEL CHARACTERS, AND MOST OF THEM ARE PRETTY MESSED UP. IF THIS BOTHERS YOU... well, then I honestly don't know what to say, because the world we live in is pretty messed up too.

Q: What kind of a warning is that?! Actually, you know what, don't even answer that question, there's no talking to you when you're in a cynical mood. Why don't you just tell me who's teaming up in this chapter?

A: It would be MY PLEASURE. In this chapter, we have the Avenger HAWKEYE (the Hawkguy Hawkeye, aka Clint Futzin' Barton), the GREATEST ARCHER IN THE WORLD (well, along with Hawkeye aka Kate Bishop, of course), teaming up with the X-Man ANGEL (the Angel Angel, aka Angel, who is no longer Warren Worthington III because of complicated stuff that involves Warren getting killed and being infected by a celestial Life Seed that regrew Angel and gave him an entirely new personality), a mutant who has WINGS and can FLY!

Q: Bird boy team-up then, huh? So where does this take place in MARVEL continuity?

A: Well, it's AU of course (as are all of these) but it's purely Earth-616 canon, and it takes place somewhere aduring Matt Fraction's "Hawkeye" run, and so DEFINITELY after the "Avengers VS. X-Men" comics, of which Hawkeye and Angel actually FOUGHT EACH OTHER, and that fight is referenced in this chapter.

Q: Wait, so do I need to have read those comics to understand this?!

A: NOT AT ALL! Seriously, you'll be OKAY. I PROMISE! Now just STOP ASKING QUESTIONS and GET READING ALREADY!

Hawkeye + Angel

Prologue, Pt. I...

Somebody knocked on Clint Barton's apartment door.

"Mmph," he muttered, rolling over in bed to glance blearily at the analog clock that was hanging on the lavender wall. "Five in the morning?"

Whoever it was knocked again.

"Why the hell's anyone knocking on my futzin' door at five o' clock in the futzin' mornin'?"

The knock came again. And then again. And again and again and again.

"Alright! I'm coming!" Clint shouted, throwing off the covers and getting out of bed wearing just his boxer shorts. "Just gimme a moment!"

The knocking didn't stop.

"Dammit," Clint grumbled, quickly grabbing a pair of jeans and stepping into them, fumbling with the zipper and button as he made his way over to the door.

Getting the incessant knocking to stop took priority over putting on a shirt.

Clint jerkily pulled open the door. "What?!" he barked, only to get knocked in the face.

"Hey!" he protested, as he stumbled back a step, reaching a hand up to rub his nose. "What the hell was that—" Clint glanced at the person standing in the doorway to see a muscular guy dressed in red and black spandex, with a red mask that had large black ovals around the guy's eyes.

"Finally!" the guy said, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "What took you so long, Hawkguy?! You owe me chimichangas!"

"Hey, Deadpool." Clint ran a hand through his short, choppy blond hair. "I'm taking it that means you found that fake Hawkeye's location?"

"You betcha! And you're not going to believe who it is!"

"C'mon in," Clint said, opening the door wide and letting Deadpool inside, not even blinking at the pair of katanas strapped to the man's back. He closed the door. "Alright. Who is it?"

Deadpool held a red finger to where his lips would be, if they weren't completely concealed by his mask. "I no telly you until you order chimichangas—what? I don't care if 'telly' is British slang for television! I'm not Canadian!"

Ignoring the crazy guy talking to himself, Clint went over to his corded phone, talking into it for a minute, before coming back over to the couch where his guest had sat down.

"Alright, the chimichangas should be here in half'n hour or so. Now spit out the name and location of the bastard who's been dressing up as me and killing people."

Deadpool leaned forward, whispering, "It's... dun dun dun, dramatic pause... Bullseye."

Clint's blue eyes blew wide. "Futz!"

Prologue, Pt. II...

'Angel.'

"Ms. Grey," Angel greeted the telepath who had just spoken in his head. "Have you detected a new mutant for me to find?"

'Daniel Martin. Delta, Colorado.'

"Wonderful," Angel said, launching into the sky, huge techno-organic wings unfolding, sunlight splintering against each sharp metal feather. "You can give me details on the way."

Whatever you call the main story that comes after the prologue...

Angel was flying over the snowcapped mountains of Colorado.

His long blond hair flowed out behind him, flickering like flames in the wind, and he held his arms straight back by his sides. He was wearing his blue-black and white Angel bodysuit that fit closely to his muscular body, and there was the image of a golden halo on his chest.

It was his job, whenever the telepath Ms. Grey detected a new mutant with cerebra, to track the mutant down and bring them to the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning, a place where young mutants could be with their own kind and learn everything they need to know to survive in a world that hates and fears them. Budding super-powers were often uncontrollable and unpredictable and tended to result in fracas, endangering both the new mutant as well as nearby humans, so Angel liked to get there as soon as possible.

So focused was he on reaching his goal, Angel didn't notice the arrow until it whizzed by his face, causing him to startle and nearly nicking him in the nose.

"What—?" Angel said, looking down with eagle-keen blue eyes to see who had fired at him.

There was a man dressed in a suit of purple and black and holding a bow, a quiver of arrows on his back, standing on what seemed to be a landing strip set into the side of the mountain.

"Oh," Angel said, hovering there, "It's that purple man again. But why is Hawkeye firing arrows at me now? I thought the conflict between Avengers and X-Men had come to its resolution."

There was a flicker of movement in Angel's vision, and he managed to dodge as the arrow that had flown by him came back around towards from where it had been shot.

The arrow struck the back of the man in purple, causing him to fall forward, only to reveal that there was another man in a similar purple and black outfit behind him. It seemed the two were fighting.

"Ha!" claimed the second Hawkeye, "Boomerang arrow! Take that, ya fraud!"

"Wait," Angel said, blond eyebrows coming together slightly, blue eyes narrowing, "There are two Hawkeyes...? And why are they fighting each other?" Curving his metal wings back and pressing them to his sides, he dove down towards the melee below. "I shall see if I can diffuse this fight."

The first Hawkeye had gotten up, and was now proceeding to throw an arrow at the second Hawkeye, who had apparently kicked away the first Hawkeye's bow.

And then Angel was between them, and both Hawkeyes were smacked back by freaking-huge metal wings.

"Calm yourselves," Angel commanded. "Why for do you quarrel so?"

The first Hawkeye was wearing an outfit that looked like an older Hawkeye uniform, being made up of a full black bodysuit with purple scales around the neck and shoulders, purple boots, purple gloves and arm guards, and a masked helmet with pointed purple 'wings' along the sides and a large purple 'H' branded on the front.

The second Hawkeye, who Angel now saw was the actual Clint Barton, was wearing purple sunglasses, and the new uniform, which included black boots, black pants, a black vest with a the image of a large purple arrowhead on his chest, black gloves and arm guards, and three arrows knocked on his bow and aimed at the other Hawkeye, his arm drawn back.

"'Cause this phony here is the psycopathic murderer known as Bullseye, who is dressing up as me and killing people," Clint growled through gritted teeth. "And he also is supposed to be dead. Or at least, severely crippled or maimed or something."

"Well well," the Bullseye-Hawkeye grinned, "Looks like now there's two people for me to kill now. And if 'killing an Angel' wasn't on my bucket list before, it's just been added. I can't wait to hear you scream."

And with that, Bullseye drew two arrows from his quiver, one in each hand, and threw them at Angel, who shielded himself with his metal wings.

"I was going to suggest we solve this problem through discourse," Angel said, lifting up into the air with a few mighty wingbeats, "But if that's the way you want to play it..."

"NO!" Clint shouted, as Angel readied his wings, metallic feathers lifting, "Don't shoot your razor-sharp metal feathers! WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T GIVE HIM MORE WEAPONS!"

Angel paused, and in the moment he took to give Barton a quizzical look, Bullseye threw several arrows in quick succession.

Twisting his body in the air, Angel just barely managed to avoid getting impaled. An arrow grazed a red line across his cheek.

Hawkeye—the real Hawkeye—still possessing his bow, let loose with his own arrows, firing at Bullseye.

One of Clint's arrows pierced Bullseye in the right shoulder, one wrapped a bola around his legs, and another opened up in a net, wrapping around him. Bullseye fell to the ground.

"Trick arrows, man! Respect the trick arrows!" Clint whooped, before going somber again. "But y'know, what I don't get, Bullseye," he said, as he walked over with another arrow knocked and ready to fire, towards where Bullseye was tangled up, "aside from you suddenly bein' alive'n all again, is why you're picking beef with me instead of workin' out your personal vendetta against Daredevil."

"Bro!" Bullseye laughed, "What d'ya think, bro? Bro, I'm a killer for hire, bro!"

Clint tensed. "Dammit," he muttered. "Them. It's always them, lately."

"Barton, watch out!" Angel called from above—too late.

When Clint had neared, Bullseye had used a blade to cut through the bola and net and launch himself at the archer, the two of them tumbling down to lightly snow-covered asphalt of the landing pad.

"Barton!" Angel dove down to help, only to crash into something unseen and slide to the ground. "What...?" he said, as he rubbed his head, looking at the space of landing pad in front of him. If he squinted, he could just barely make out the vague shape of a plane in stealth mode.

There was a yell of agony that sounded like Clint, and Angel was back up in the air, keeping clear of the plane as he flew over to where Hawkeye and Bullseye were locked in hand-to-hand combat, getting closer and closer to the edge of the landing pad and the sheer drop down the mountainside.

The snow around their feet was stained red.

With a heave and a yell, Bullseye grabbed Hawkeye and threw him over the edge.

"Barton, hang on!" Angel called, raising his hands and firing gold energy blasts at Bullseye and knocking the murderer back, before swooping down to grab Clint out of the air, wrapping his arms around the archer's waist. "I've got you, Hawkeye."

"Thanks for the save, Bird Boy." Clint reached back and pulled an explosive-tip arrow from his quiver, knocking it in his bow and drawing the string back as Angel lifted him up above the landing pad where Bullseye was just getting up off the ground.

Clint murmured, "Take this, sucker," and fired the arrow at the ground beneath Bullseye's feet. "Boom."

In the hands of Hawkeye and Bullseye, anything was a weapon. Including snow.

Bullseye shoved a handful down the back of Clint's vest.

Hawkeye threw a handful in Bullseye's face, and kicked him where it counted.

Bullseye fell and rolled, getting back up to stab an arrow through Hawkeye's gut so that the arrowhead poked out the other side, then rip the arrow back out.

Clint gave a yell of pain.

"You're going down," Bullseye hissed with a grin, adding, "Bro," because he enjoyed how it made Clint grind his teeth. "And you know I never miss."

And with that, Bullseye threw Hawkeye over the edge of the cliff, sending him freefalling through the air.

Suddenly Bullseye was slammed with a blast of energy. "I'm going to kill that # $*&! mutant," he growled, getting back to his feet and grabbing up an arrow that had fallen out of his quiver to the ground.

Just as he turned around to throw it at the guy with the wings, the world around Bullseye exploded.

Angel set Clint down gently on the landing pad, the two of standing there and looking down at Bullseye, who was scrambling to hold onto the crumbling edge, his legs scrambling for purchase on the sheer rock face. The masked Hawkeye helmet had been blown off by the explosion, exposing Bullseye's bald head and showing the crosshair mark in the center of his forehead.

"You gonna help me or not?!" Bullseye snapped as his grip slipped further.

"Nope," Clint said apathetically. "Sorry."

"I thought Avengers don't kill," Angel remarked as they watched the ground crumble and collapse, Bullseye falling away towards the bottom of the deep valley below.

"I didn't kill 'im," Clint pointed out. "I simply... didn't save 'im."

"I looked into that man's soul. Believe me, there was nothing there to save." Angel's expression was serious.

"Oh?" Clint asked, turning to the X-Man and raising his blond eyebrows, somewhere between skeptical and curious. "And what d'you see in my soul?"

Angel regarded him for a long moment, with those clear, sky-blue eyes. Clint squirmed, getting the uncanny feeling that the mutant actually was looking straight through him and seeing everything within. That Angel was seeing ever hope and every desire and every fear and every scar...

"You are not a bad man, Barton," Angel said finally. Clint narrowed his eyes and searched the man's face, but Angel was being completely sincere. He reached out and put a hand on Clint's shoulder. "Don't sell yourself short."

Clint blinked, his eyes feeling dry and stinging, as if he hadn't blinked the entire time Angel had been staring at him; he probably hadn't.

All he could manage in response was: "Um."

Angel's gaze moved to Clint's abdomen, which the archer had his arms wrapped tight around, blood seeping through the fabric.

"You are badly wounded," Angel stated. "Sit down. I can help you."

"Look, I know it looks bad," Clint said, "but it's really not—"

"Sit down," Angel ordered again, his tone indicating that there was no room for argument.

Sighing in exasperation, Clint reluctantly sat (practically fell) down, sigh turning to a sharp gasp of pain.

"Take off your vest," Angel said.

"Man, c'mon," Clint huffed, only to wince at the fresh stab of pain. "Aow! Ugh. But seriously, for one thing, it's futzin' cold way up here, and secondly, you don't even got any medical supplies."

"I don't need any medical supplies," Angel said, as he knelt down next to the archer, folding his huge metal wings along his back. "My blood has healing properties. Now take off your vest. You are loosing large amounts of blood, and if you don't allow me to heal you, then you will soon lose consciousness."

"Man," Clint groaned, "you're kiddin' me. You got wings and a healin' factor? How's that even fair?" But despite his complaining, Clint peeled off his vest, swearing under his breath. When he looked down at the wound in his chest, his eyes widened slightly. "Okay, this looks bad," he admitted.

There was a glint of silver metal as Angel cut the palms of his hands on his feathers, then he reached out and pressed his bleeding palms against Clint's wounds, one hand on his abs and one on his back.

"Um, you're sure this works?" Clint asked, his teeth beginning to chatter from the cold, complexion pallid from blood loss.

"If you have a matching blood type to mine."

"What?!" Clint exclaimed. "And what if I don't?! What if—oh," he said, breaking off as he felt his insides shifting, feeling things start to knit themselves back together. "Ow ow ow," Clint gasped, clenching his eyes tightly shut and gritting his teeth. "I think the healing hurts worse'n gettin' impaled did."

"I know," Angel said. "But you'll survive. Trust me."

"You—oh," Clint started, then broke himself off again as he realized: "This's the same place that I shot you when we fought during the whole Avengers versus X-Men thing*, wasn't it?"

"Approximately," Angel agreed.

"So... do we gotta fight now?" Clint asked, giving another wince as something else stitched together.

Angel looked at him in genuine confusion. "Why would we have to fight?"

"'Cause, you know..." Clint said uncomfortably, "I kind've sucker-shot you..."

"That conflict has been resolved, and you have been forgiven," Angel told him, removing his hands from Clint, to reveal completely healed flesh where there had been gaping wounds. "If we focus on our actions in the past and insist on keeping grudges, then we will only hinder ourselves in the future. We must move on and continue to grow into better people."

"Right," Clint said, looking down at his abdomen and hesitantly touching the newly healed skin. "Tell that t'... like, everybody else in this crazy world."

"Everybody fights too much," Angel said, getting to his feet and offering a hand, pulling Clint up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I really must be going. There is a new mutant in need of guidance. Do you have a method of extraction?"

"Um, yeah," Clint said, making a vague gesture at where the invisible plane was parked. "My 'method of extraction' is over there, in stealth mo—"

"Ah yes, I crashed into it earlier." Angel patted Clint's shoulder, lips pulling upwards in an angelic smile as he said, "A pleasure fighting alongside you today, Avenger. I do hope that when next we meet it is once again as teammates rather than as enemies."

"Yeah," Clint agreed. "That'd be cool, man."

END.

*Avengers VS. X-Men: Versus #5

I'vebeenLOKI'Dyetagain: Daniel Martin is an OC, and he's not important. I just needed a name. Also, I have never been to Colorado, much less Delta Colorado, I only chose that city because I looked on a map of Colorado and it was on the Western side of the Rocky Mountains, so Angel would have to fly through them to get there from Westchester New York. And Thunderbolt Mountain in the MARVEL universe is supposed to be located in Colorado, so I just kind of assumed it was in the Rockies, and Bullseye used to be a member of the Thunderbolts, so that's why I stuck him there, because I needed him to be working out of a base somewhere.

Bullseye is mainly one of Daredevil's villains, but during the time Norman Osborn was in control of everything on Earth-616, and he had his group of Dark Avengers, Bullseye took up the Hawkeye mantle, which Clint (who was during that time going by the codename Ronin) was pretty pissed about. I don't know if they ever actually fought each other - if they did, I haven't read it.

Also, sometime after the events of Siege, Bullseye was apparently killed by Daredevil, but then he was actually still alive and came back, but he was like crippled and scarred and blind or something, I have no idea I haven't actually read this in the comics this is just what I gathered from his Wikipedia entry. But I used him as a villain in this chapter, because what the hell it's the MARVEL universe - NOBODY STAYS FREAKIN' DEAD.

There are also like a bazillion alternate universes, so really I can do whatever I want XP

Also, because I forgot to put this at the beginning of this story: DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS. All characters featured in this fanfic and the distinctive names and likeness thereof, and all related indicia are trademarks of Marvel Characters, Inc. No similarities between any of the characters, names, persons, and/or institutions in this fanfic with those of any living or dead person or institution is intended, and any such similarity which may exist is purely coincidental. I also just basically stole that disclaimer from a MARVEL comic, changing only a few words. So I don't own the disclaimer, either.

Anyways, that was my reasoning behind stuff, don't worry if it doesn't make any sense XD I just hope that this chapter was enjoyable, despite everything!