Aliens invade New York.
Phil is dead.
Clint's only on the right side for about 30% of the fight.
Enough said about all that.
Nat comes with him to visit his family, a week after the fact.
As soon as they step inside, the kids crowd around them.
"Did you really fight with Captain America?" Cooper asks in awe.
"The aliens didn't look green on the news," Lila says with a pout. "Did'ya meet any green ones?"
"Your picture books lied to you."
"Did not!"
Clint loves them, he loves them so much it feels like his chest is bursting with the utter relief he feels at seeing them in person, at having them in his arms again. He gives Laura a chaste kiss on the lips and ignores the vocal disgust from both the kids and Nat.
He loves them, but he's just—he's so tired, right now.
Cooper and Lila think he's a hero, but he certainly doesn't feel like one.
"You've always been a hero to them," Laura says later that night with a soft smile. They fall asleep wrapped around each other.
"Me neither," Nat tells him when he mentions it, after he wakes up breathing heavily from something he doesn't remember. He'd ended up sneaking off to the living room to not disturb anyone. Nat had already been there.
Reminds him of the time he'd begun scoping out some targets at the very edge of Hell's Kitchen. He'd blinked, and all the lights had been off. Screams of confusion had turned into screams of fear and pain. "Fuck you, Matt," he'd whispered. He could have sworn he'd heard a manic but amused laugh in response.
Is he that easy to read?
"You're not that easy to read," Nat assures him. "I just know you by now. I care enough to know you." She nudges his shoulder with her own as they sit side by side on the couch, both sipping slowly at hot cocoa. No marshmallows, unfortunately. Clint has a feeling Cooper's the one who'd used it all up. "I'm sure the same can be said about you reading me."
Clint sighs, but he doesn't refute her. He slumps further into the couch. "I need to go back to work, keep my mind off things."
"You need a break, actually," Nat says with narrowed eyes. "I already got you a month off."
"A month?!"
Clint had only been aware of a week.
He feels restless, so so restless. But at the same time, he can't bear the idea of hurting anyone else.
So he goes to Hell's Kitchen without his bow, hoping for some hand-to-hand with Matt. Matt's one of the few people who actually gives Clint a challenge when it comes to sparring. Clint respects the guy more than he'll ever admit to him, and right now that's because he'll hopefully beat the shit out of Clint, beat all the bad and the ugly away.
Clint's plans are unfortunately derailed yet again upon actually seeing Matt.
"You look like shit," he says, stepping into Matt's apartment from the roof entrance.
"Feel like it," Matt responds, laying on the couch listlessly and absolutely covered with cuts and bruises.
"Who did that to you?" Clint asks incredulously.
"Ninja."
"That's not as much of an explanation as you think it is."
"No, the guy was definitely a ninja."
Clint blinks. "You deal with ninjas? That's actually so cool." Better than mind controlling aliens, at least.
Matt frowns at him. "You think this is cool?" he asks flatly.
"I take it back," Clint says quickly. He walks over to the fridge and grabs both of them beer, because they really do need the alcohol. He helps Matt sit up, and then they sit side by side, drinking in silence while the sun sets outside the window.
"Uh...thanks, for your advice," Matt says eventually.
Clint combs through his admittedly spotty memory, trying to figure out why someone would thank him, of all things. You don't know what I've done, he wants to say, but manages to bite back the words at the last second. After all, Matt's really far removed from...all of that.
Instead, Clint says, "You're welcome? For...what?"
Matt snorts, but without much humor. "Told my law partner, Foggy, about my whole..."
"Devilish identity crisis?"
"Sure, let's go with that."
"How'd he take it?" Clint asks.
Matt sighs. "Not well, but mostly out of concern for me, and less about the whole lying part, so...better, than I was expecting."
"I'm glad," Clint says honestly. "He's a good friend, then."
"Told him literally the day before I got beat up by a ninja, though, so maybe not the best timing."
Clint stares at him in horror. "Oh, definitely not the best timing."
"He was pretty mad about finding me half-dead, but imagine if I hadn't told him before then."
Clint laughs a little. "Probably would've given him the biggest heart attack of his life."
Matt laughs, too, which is a good thing. He should laugh more. Clint should probably laugh more as well, now that he's thinking about it. "Yeah," Matt says. And then, "Heard you're a bit famous now."
Blatant attempt at steering the conversation away from himself. Well, two can play at this game. "Heard you're a bit famous now, too."
"Hawkeye."
"Daredevil."
Matt snorts. "We sound ridiculous."
"Not as ridiculous as Hulk and Iron Man and Captain America."
Matt tilts his head. "Is he actually Captain America?"
"Oh yeah, so patriotic. If I hadn't been briefed about him, I would've known anyways."
"That whole mess with the aliens, anything to do with you beating yourself up right now?" Matt asks, oh so casually.
Clint frowns. "How can you read me so well?" First Nat, now this guy. Wow. Clint needs to shore up his shields. (But maybe he doesn't have to.)
"Answer the question, Clint."
So he does. He tells Matt everything, probably more than he should, considering most of it is classified. But he trusts Matt, this other guy who's trying his best with what he's got.
"It's not your fault," Matt says immediately.
Clint had definitely been expecting this. "But, I could've fought it, broke out of it sooner."
"Hey, it took a concussion for you to break out of the mind control. That's pretty hard for you to do to yourself."
"But—"
"And besides, people have been brainwashed with less. I'm talking about child soldier conditioning and terrorist organization coercions and all that. But from what you've told me, this was full on mind control with an extraterrestrial scepter thing. That's so much more complete than whatever weak mind suggestion you're blaming yourself for. If it had been anyone else, like me or your friend who knocked you out, you wouldn't be blaming us, but you're framing the narrative differently just because it's you."
Clint opens his mouth, then closes it. After a few moments, he says, "I forgot I was talking to a lawyer there for a second."
Matt full on laughs, then winces, pressing a hand to his ribs. Clint knows the trust is both ways; Matt trusts him enough to show weakness. "Just admit I'm right," he says.
"You're smug like a lawyer, too," Clint grumbles.
"And you're a bit too public now for a secret agent."
Clint groans. "Don't remind me. Nat has been complaining to me about it too, blaming Fury for everything. Stark and Rogers probably deserve some of the blame, too. They're some of the most public figures ever."
"You think I'll ever run into the rest of them?" Matt asks with a grin.
Clint takes some time to consider. After a few moments, he says, "That would be absolutely terrifying."
Matt laughs. "You serious?"
Clint nods in horror. "Yeah, depending on the person, you'd either hate each other and hold the most insane grudges, or you'd hit it off and take over the world in a day."
For that second part, Clint's thinking of Matt and Nat, in particular. He thinks they'd get along super well. He also knows Nat has been itching to fight Matt ever since she saw footage of Daredevil and his mix of fighting styles. They'd probably be a good fit for each other, sparring and...otherwise.
Wait.
Wait wait wait.
Clint has. The most. Spectacular. Idea.
This is what Nat gets for claiming he needs another hobby (archery apparently doesn't count) to get his mind off of things.
"Uh, Clint? You good?" Matt says.
Clint wonders if his heart had done an excited leap or something like that. "Amazing," he says with a growing smile. "Absolutely amazing."
"...I know you're planning something. I would like to not be involved."
"Too late."
"Damn it."
Step 1: Get the Avengers to Hell's Kitchen.
It takes almost a year for the Avengers to get a mission in Hell's Kitchen. Good thing Clint's always patient about his ops. Comes with usually being the lookout.
As they suit up, he texts Matt to let him know they're going to invade his territory and then shoves his phone away in his bag so he doesn't see the angry response. "Texting Daredevil?" Nat asks quietly as she sidles up to him.
It's taken time to get used to fighting in a team, a very super-powered team. Clint still finds it most soothing when it's just the two of them.
"Gotta give him some warning," Clint says. Even though Matt would probably know the second they stepped foot in Hell's Kitchen.
"Something tells me he doesn't need warning," Nat says, with interest in her gaze.
"Who we talking about?" Tony asks, inserting himself gracelessly into both their conversation and personal space.
"Anything we have to worry about?" Steve asks from the doorway.
"Other than the mad scientist transforming people into plants?" Bruce says, attempting to squeeze past Steve and into the room. Steve moves away to make it easier for him like the patriotic guy he is.
"Sounds like you, Brucie Bear," Tony says with a smirk.
Bruce makes a face. "I get the transforming part, but the plant part?"
"Both green," Tony says simply, then pauses for a few moments. "Does Hulk photosynthesize?"
This sets them all off into snickers. Maybe it's nice to have a team, even one as chaotic as theirs.
Step 2: Interact with Daredevil.
Matt shows up in the middle of the fight in his ridiculous suit and ends up playing damage control for the majority of the time. It's actually impressive, how his senses give him a more accurate picture of where people are trapped than even Tony's tech. His senses are also helpful in determining which plants are actually plants and which plants are actually human. Tony and Bruce are the ones who administer the antidote to the proper human-plants.
Afterwards, instead of being angrily mysterious and disappearing into the shadows (which probably has to do with the fact that it's the afternoon and the sun is still out), Matt lectures the whole team on the importance of keeping civilians safe and keeping their buildings intact.
"Not all of us have a fancy tower to live in," he says with a scowl.
Bruce, having transformed back, seems appropriately contrite. Steve is trying to be the peacekeeper, as always. Tony just seems annoyed.
And Nat, well, Nat seems intrigued. Daredevil hadn't done much of note in terms of fighting, and yet—
Wow. This just might be Clint's most successful op to date.
"Hey, Hornhead, we just saved people, alright?" Tony says defensively. "Don't think you would've enjoyed photosynthesizing for a day or two."
"Probably would've been a Venus flytrap," Matt shoots back immediately. "Carnivorous, no photosynthesizing needed."
Clint snorts. All his teammates stare at him. He coughs awkwardly and watches as Matt visibly suppresses a grin.
"The villain will always be our priority, but we do try our best to minimize civilian casualties," Steve says, holding his hands up in a placating manner.
"Do better," Matt says, arms crossed in front of his chest and judging them immensely. Clint's pretty sure he's partly putting on a show. Pretty sure.
And then, Nat sidles up to Matt's side, arms also crossed. She leans against him, which catches Matt off guard, since he stumbles a little before he manages to straighten up and support Nat's weight with an awkward arm around her shoulders. See? They already look somewhat cute together. "We appreciate the constructive criticism," she says sweetly, looking up to try to meet his eyes.
Matt swallows, slightly disgruntled expression still in place and half-covered. Steve furrows his brows at the two of them, Bruce stares in horror, and Tony's scowl smooths out into a shit-eating grin.
"You're welcome," Matt says gruffly after a few awkward seconds.
"We have to spar sometime," Nat says, still in that overly sweet tone of voice. "I miss having a worthy opponent."
"Wait, what about me?" Clint asks, slightly offended.
He's ignored.
Okay. Maybe introducing them wasn't the best decision of his life.
"I've got...things to do. A day job," Matt says, slowly disentangling himself from Nat and backing away from all of them. "Y'know, some of us have actual bills to pay?"
"I know what bills are," Tony says, back to scowling.
"Uh huh," Matt says. "See you around, Clint." He gives Clint the bird, and then flips off the building like the dramatic ass that he is.
"...Seems like a...spirited guy," Steve says eventually.
Clint resists the urge to tell everyone that Matt can definitely still hear them.
Step 3: Watch the magic happen.
At around three in the morning, Clint is eating potato chips in the communal kitchen when Nat creeps up behind him.
He would definitely like to deny that he'd jumped five feet in the air and screamed, but Nat would call him out on it.
"Want some?" he says, offering the bag to Nat. Nat tilts her head for a few moments, considering, and then grabs a handful.
The crinkling of the bag and the crunching of chips is weirdly soothing in the middle of the night. Normal sounds definitely help chase away the nightmares and the bad memories.
They lean back, resting against the counter and staring out the huge windows together, slowly making their way through the bag of chips.
"You know where I can find Daredevil?" Nat asks at last, glancing at Clint out of the corner of her eye.
"Hell's Kitchen," Clint answers truthfully.
Nat elbows him with an amused smirk. "You know what I mean."
Well, Clint can't show all his cards yet. "To be completely honest, he sorta just finds you instead," he says.
Nat raises her eyebrows. Clint knows that she's taking this as the challenge it is. "You don't think I could do it?" she asks.
"I'm not saying that," Clint tells her slowly, because he wouldn't put it past her, "but he does know Hell's Kitchen a lot better than you."
She frowns a little in consideration. "Any tips?"
"You asking me for tips?"
"Well, you definitely know more than what you put in his file."
Clint gives her what he hopes is a mysterious smile, but it feels maybe too wide and probably looks like a shit-eating grin instead. "Figure it out yourself," he says.
Nat nods. "I will." And then she leaves, just as quietly as she had come.
Clint frowns and finishes up the chips.
When Nat figures everything out, she may shorten his life expectancy.
For two of his favorite people, he figures it's worth it.