"I like what you did with your hair? God Clint you're even stupider than you thought!" Clint cursed himself as he turned from Nat's house and made sure she was out of hearing range. God, he was so stupid sometimes around girls and especially around Natasha. When she was around he'd catch himself staring at her. She was so pretty, and not in the usually way. Instead of tan she was a beautiful pale with her Russian rosy cheeks. Her lips were full and her eyes were always filled with thought. She usually wore no makeup "I shouldn't be judge on what kind of crap I have on my face." Was her defense; but Clint liked it that way. He had formed a crush on her during freshman year but didn't tell anyone. Nat was such a hard nut to crack to see what she was feeling, it was even hard for Clint especially when she like someone. They both had their little girlfriend or boyfriends here and there but nothing serious.
He walked into his house and automatically knew his brother wasn't home, if he was the house would be filled with hard rock music pounding against your ear drums. He was probably at his job at the local bar. It wasn't the greatest job but it put what little food they had on the table even with Clint's weekend job serving coffee at the café. The house was super small, one floor with a basement that served no purpose other than they kinda fixed it up for Natasha when she had to come over. His house was basically a floor in Tony's skyscraper; yeah sometimes it bothered Clint but Tony would always offer on helping him out with money but Clint always refused, he was taught that if you want something- do it yourself. Weakness is a flaw. He went down the hall and turned into the 2nd door on the right, his room- one of the only places he could escape during the day.
His room was very different from the average teenagers. First off instead of a bed he had a hammock; it swung just a couple of feet off the ground. Also he had a skylight that would show him the sky and whatever else it decided to reveal. Since he didn't have any parents he could do whatever and his brother didn't really care. He cut out a whole in the ceiling and put the glass in himself. He hated being in closed, in tight spaces; he preferred the open and high fresh air all around him. But even in the bright room his thought turned dark.
"Barney, where's mom and dad?" 8 year old Clint asked his brother, only 12 at the time.
"They're not coming home buddy." Barney knelt down next to Clint.
"What are all those cops doing here?" he was referring to the red and blue lights flashing behind him with big men standing at their cars.
"Because mom and dad died bro. They were shot…" his brother sobbed out. Clint stood there not knowing what to do.
"Aunt Monica is going to take care of us for a while ok?" Barney tried to get himself together. Clint slowly nodded his head, still numb. "But it's just me and you now ok? Aunt Monica can't take that away from us." Barney hugged Clint and from over his shoulder he saw Natasha running down the street with the blue and red lights flashing across her face. Clint pushed back his brother and ran to her. They ran into a hug and that's when Clint started crying; with the only person he felt comfortable with to do so.
They had never found the killer, they had several theories. Just a shoot and run, both my parents worked in the government so they thought it may be an inside job, or heck even the mafia came up one or twice in a conversation. For Clint losing his parents was hard, after that day every parent related thing they did at school either his aunt would come or usually, Barney came. When Clint had to bring a parent for lunch one day, Barney came with some cold pizza and the two had the best time. Then after Barney turned 17 their aunt was taken to prison for drugs, that was her way of dealing with her sister's death. They really didn't have any other close family that was willing to take in two teenagers and since Barney was almost legally an adult now they didn't both looking for a foster family, and plus there was a greater risk of them splitting up and that was their worst fear. That's when they left were lucky enough to find this abandoned house which they slowly fixed up. It was still a crap house with the lights going off and on all the time, the heater being busted most of the time, but it was enough.
He took out his Advanced English homework and started working on a paper about a book he didn't care to read. His mind started wondering to Nat, god he wished he could get her. Most guys his age just wanted a girl that they could bang on the weekends; Clint didn't want that. He just wanted to treat her like the queen she was. Just to have that even deeper connection, to be able to hold her and know that she was his.
"God Barton, you are one despite son of a bitch." Clint mumbled to himself. He thought about what the rest of senior year would bring. He thought about the chance of Nat going to one college and him going to another, and she would never know that he would take a bullet for her. He would talk to her at Stark's party this Friday he decided. He was going to do a cheesy things and hopefully she wouldn't knock him out. Damn he hated this feeling, the constant turning of the stomach, his heart beating so hard he was sure Nat could hear it, chocking on his words. "Ok that's it," he needed to get his mind preoccupied. He grabbed his bow and some arrows on the ground and went to his back yard and started shooting at the makeshift target.
