This is something that's been rolling around in my brain and I really wanted to do. So I'm just doing it! :D Full disclosure: I know how I'm going to end this, but otherwise I'm writing as I go. Most likely will be short... because it's me. We'll see how long it takes me tho.
Clint Barton is about 13 when our story begins. He is deaf. Patrick Jane is a teenager, sometime after he and his dad con the old lady and her sick granddaughter (The Mentalist s2e10, "Throwing Fire"). The flashbacks in that episode take place in Iowa in 1986. Clearly destined for a Clint Barton carnie crossover! ;) This is super fun for me and I'm taking all the liberties. :D
Title is a lyrics from the song "Good Old Days" by Shovels & Rope. Three songs from their album "By Blood" are basically my mood for this fic: "Good old days", "Mississippi Nuthin'" and "Carry Me Home".
If you find yourself reading this little fic, I hope you enjoy.
. . .
The trailer steps creaked like they always did when Clint pulled himself up through its flimsy door. He let it slam behind him as he heeled off his shoes. No shoes in the trailer. That was Miss Nirmala's rule. He took a step further inside then stopped short not expecting to see his brother Barney there. He was supposed to be working. The easy expression he'd been wearing faded quickly from his face.
"Barney what are you doing?" He asked, still standing by the door.
Dusky afternoon sunlight stung his older brother's eyes as his head quickly turned to meet Clint's voice. He said nothing, just gave a joyless chuckle. Clint couldn't hear it but the expression on Barney's face conveyed enough.
"Barney?" he asked agian. He wanted an answer and he wanted it not to be what he was seeing; his big brother's arm elbow deep in a hole in the ratty mattress; the spot where he kept his own money.
His brother ignored his questioning again and proceeded to pull the shoe box from the guts of the mattress. Clint suddenly felt like crying. But he wouldn't. Their late father taught them not to.
"That's my money." He said.
"I know." Clint read on Barney's lips.
Barney stood up to his full height displaying all the bravado his little brother had always looked up to. But there was none of the heart. He strode to the door. Clint didn't get out of his way.
Barney looked him straight in the face. "Move."
He shook his head. "Why are you taking my money?"
"It's mine now." He said firmly and tried to push Clint aside.
Clint reached for the box. An elbow connected with his head.
That was the last time he saw his brother.