Clint (eyesintheback) wrote in avengers_logs, @ 2018-01-29 18:22:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | -complete, clint barton |
Who: Clint Barton
What: Anybody call for backup?
When: Monday afternon
Rating/Warnings: Yellow?
Ever since the Cap had sprung him and the others from the Raft Clint had done the one thing he knew how to do and that was, blend in. He'd been losing himself in crowds of people for longer than he could remember and it was a skill that had served him well in S.H.I.E.L.D and now was no different. He knew how to burn a past to nothing but dust, disappear, and reappear in a blink of an eye. It was hard, especially now he'd gone and got himself a family, but that was- Well, it wasn't worth thinking about as he'd dwell and that wasn't healthy, not when he had to focus on surviving, staying one step ahead and keeping his head down.
This time however he was not alone. He had Wanda. Didn't feel right to leave her all on her own, especially after what had happened. Besides he had a debt, one he didn't think he'd ever be able to pay back. So the two of them went on the run and Clint was more than capable of keeping them alive and hidden, especially as he hadn't had the best start in life but what it did teach him was how to be alone, how to be self sufficent and most important how to stay alive.
Clint hit up old contacts, obtained false documents, and with said false documents they had flown the coop (pun intended) and were halfway across the world where nobody knew his name or cared about his or Wanda's face. Of course when she failed to come home to their middle of bumfuck nowhere hideout one day he knew something was wrong. Worry set in but was countered as best he could because no point in overreacting when he didn't know anything for certain. It wasn't like she was exactly incapable of looking after herself but at the same time she had a distinct vulnerability that might lead her right into trouble. He'd waited and when day turned into night Clint had headed out to find her.
It was in the middle of this searching that he felt the weirdest sensation. A chill to be exact, but that was impossible, he'd purposefully picked somewhere with a warm climate and that sensation didn't fit. The hairs on the back of his neck lifted and Clint turned his head, eyes scanning the hustling bustling crowd as if that would help him locate the source. And then it happened, the overwhelming feeling of being swallowed by a wave before in a blink of his eye the world pitched into darkness and he felt like he was being lifted through the air.
It was both disorientating and nausea inducing so when Clint felt firm ground under his feet he was too busy losing what was left of his lunch in a nearby alley that it took him a few moments to realise he was not where he'd been. This all looked, felt, and smelt familiar. "What the..." he muttered as he turned on his heel to regard a nearby sign that signalled that he was knee deep in New York city again. "Well, fuck," he grumbled as he slipped back into the shadow of the nearby alley and tried to gather his thoughts into one cohesive train.
He had definitely been in worst situations, Clint shouldered the worry, caught sight of what looked like a duffel bag and as it wasn't ticking he figured why the hell not. A crouch had him peeling open the bag to see what looked like network access info, phone, laptop and a hotel room keycard. "And this shit keeps getting weirder," he grumbled as he hefted the duffel bag up and turned on his heel to get lost because that's what he did best, the rest he could figure out later.
One step at a time.