|Clint Barton: Hawkeye (cant_miss) wrote in avengers_logs,|
@ 2019-05-18 21:25:00
|Entry tags:||-complete, -narrative, -spoiler, clint barton|
Who: Clint Barton
What: A 600 word narrative explaining how Clint's been spending his time lately
Rather: Green, contains Endgame spoilers
Cash was useful. For all of Cap’s scandalized reactions to Clint’s confession of hustling darts, Clint knew Steve would never understand the value of a dollar in the hand. Cash was untraceable and that meant it was priceless. A good upstanding guy like Steve hadn’t spent almost twenty with a stash of cash in a go bag. He probably hadn’t ever handed an envelope of cash to a man in a back room in exchange for a forged passport the way Clint did a couple weeks ago. Paid for with cash made from weeks of hustling Brooklyn hipsters and drunk frat boys at the dart board or pool table.
The name on the passport read Frank Riggs. It was a good alias and the simple, one syllable name was easy for Clint to answer. Frank joined a gym, another expense paid in cash. It was the kind of place that didn’t mind not having a credit card. A block box of weight lifting equipment, ropes, and pull up bars. A good place for Clint to build his strength back after a year on the farm without anyone paying attention to him. While Clint worked himself into fighting shape, no one ever asked if he was one of the Avengers. That was the thing about standing next to a billionaire, a supersoldier, and a god. People tended to forget about the guy with the bow. Take the bow away and he was invisible.
Good. Forgetting Hawkeye made things easier. Clint had still been Hawkeye standing under the tree, helping Lila practice her archery. His daughter begged for days before Clint relented, heading down to the target with her most afternoons. Clint had offered to teach Cooper as well. Coop was older and Clint thought he might be interested too, that this was something they could all do together but Cooper said no. Clint had been disappointed but talking it over with Laura later, he realized he couldn’t blame the kid. Coop was older. Not by much but enough to have more memory of Hawkeye the SHIELD agent. Long absences followed by returns often riddled with injury. When Lila thought about Hawkeye, she meant the Avenger. Lila wanted to learn to shoot and Cooper wanted to stick to baseball. Coop would bring Nathaniel out with them, careful to keep the little a safe distance away, and in that way the archery lessons were something the family did together.
When he had a family. When he was still Hawkeye. Those things were gone now. Dust in the wind. Clint didn’t know who he was anymore. Looking for answers in the bottom of a whiskey glass had provided neither clarity nor absolution. All he was, all he had left, was a particular skillset. People always had underestimated Clint Barton. It was easy to assume archery was the only you were good for when you ran around with a bow and arrow, calling yourself Hawkeye. But Clint was old and he was experienced. And that came with more than just a bow.
Under his new hood and face mask, Clint made himself a nest on the roof across from where the Russian mob were headquartering these days. He wasn’t a hero anymore but he did have a skillset. He wasn’t a hero anymore and his family was gone. Clint’s family was gone but the universe gave the mob a crack at an alternate reality. The good were gone, the bad were here, and Clint did have a certain skill.
From his perch up in the roof he watched and he waited.