The Amazing Hawkeye's performance had gone as usual. Clint wouldn't say it out loud but at this point he was pretty sure he could do the whole routine with his eyes closed. He walked back to Nirmala's trailer, kicking at the dirt every few steps as he went. He always felt good after a show. Not happy or anything like that, just good.

When he arrived Nirmala offered him a cup of tea like she always did.

"No thanks, Auntie." He said, and added that he was meeting Patrick. She never expected him to tell her where he was going but he knew it would make her glad to hear he was making a friend. She smiled just as he hoped she would and he went to change. Once back in his regular clothes, he grabbed the sign language book and headed out.

The brightly lit ferris wheel could be seen from all directions. The boys hadn't discussed where to meet, but Clint figured the central location seemed like the move. Plus, there was funnel cake over there.

As he walked amidst the glowing, spinning, blinking silence he found himself thinking about how different this place was for everyone else. For them there wasn't just light and movement but voices and music and machinery too. He could see the sound happening all around but that was all. It didn't bother him so much. He could barely remember what the world was like before the silence anymore. Besides, nowadays he didn't want to be a part of much and silence made a pretty good hiding place.

When Clint got to the ferris wheel, he found Patrick waiting for him. He was leaning against one of those metal crowd control gates, enjoying some funnel cake. When Clint approached him, he offered the treat without a word. Clint took a big piece off the pile. For a few moments they stood there under the lights, watching the carnival swirl around them and munching contentedly.

Eventually Patrick wiped the powdered sugar from his lips, brushed his hands together and tapped Clint's shoulder. Clint looked over.

Patrick pointed up to the ferris wheel. "Wanna go up?"

Clint offered an affirmative shrug.

The operator let them on without a ticket. Carnies stood out to other carnies.

The little cage had two seats facing each other. Perfect for lip reading.

The big wheel lurched to a start and up they went. The colorful sprawl of the carnival revealed itself on all sides of them.

Clint looked from the lights below across to Patrick. Patrick had a conspiritorial grin on his face.

"What?" he asked, unable to keep a grin from spreading to his lips too.

"Nothing." Patrick said. "I just like hiding up here sometimes. I can see everyone but nobody can see me."

Clint looked around, quickly realizing he agreed. He nodded approvingly.

They swung up toward the stars and back down through the blinking tumult.

"What do you do here? Clint asked, looking at him again.

"I'm a psychic." Patrick stated matter of factly.

Clint frowned. "A what?"

"I can read minds. Tell the future."

Clint rolled his eyes. "No you can't." He said with an exasperated sigh.

"Of course I cant!" Patrick laughed. "But I can make people believe I can. Come see the Boy Wonder show. I'll show you."

"That's you!?" Clint laughed. "I saw the poster but never went in."

"That's me." Patrick said. Clint did't hear the lack of enthusiasm in those words.

Patrick left out the part where he and his father also ran cons on the side, cheating vulnerable people out of their money in exchange for false hope.

Clint shook his head and his face resumed its usual impassive expression.

"So," Patrick motioned to his own ears. "Were you born deaf?"

Clint's brow furrowed only slightly. He looked down and shook his head.

Patrick stuck his hands out under Clint's gaze and signed "When?"

"When I was eight." Clint mumbled. "My dad bashed me in the head. Was pissed about something."

Patrick blew out a long sigh. "I thought me dad was the worst."

Clint didn't see the words. He was still staring at his hands.

Patrick let him be for a bit and just took in the lights swooping by. Bashed in the head? Patrick shuddered slightly. Jeez! And now he was deaf? They arced through the night sky again and he watched Clint's hands ball into fists and relax a couple of times. Down through the lively carnival they swung again. Finally Clint sat back up and grabbed the ASL book from beside him. He handed it to Patrick.

"Well," Patrick said as he opened the book on his knees. "You're lucky you can't hear this music." he said, his hand motioning generally toward the world below them.

A smirk crept back onto Clint's face.