Clint Barton ➶ Hawkeye (thislooksbad) wrote in valloic, @ 2020-09-24 17:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, ₴ inactive: francis barton |
His son.
He had a son. Sure, the kid was from an alternate universe, but that didn't mean he was any less his son. Yeah, he'd never exactly planned on kids being part of the equation, and he and Bobbi definitely weren't going to be making any Hawkingbirds any time soon. But that didn't mean he was just going to ignore his own kid. Futz that. He may not have a lot going for him, but he wasn't about to be a deadbeat.
He spotted the kid easily enough. It was hard not to. Blonde with his attitude and Bobbi's...just something intangibly Bobbi. It was probably competence. He'd never had enough of it to recognize it. Making his way over, he offered the coffee with a shrug.
"Uh...hey," he said. "I'm Clint. Obviously. Coffee?"
His dad.
Wasn't that hell of a thing? He didn't exactly wake up this morning expecting to meet an alternate reality version of his father, but he knew it hadn't been out of the realm of possibilities if everything James and Torunn had to tell him was true. After all, Torunn had an alternate version of her father around and James' alternate reality mother was too. So this wasn't weird, except it completely was.
His father, the one that had been from his world, was dead. And this guy hadn't signed up to have a kid. So Francis wasn't expecting a lot, though Clint offering to meet up almost immediately after meeting him was a lot more than he thought he would get. He kept his freakout - because yes, he was completely freaking out - internal because he wasn't quite ready to scare this guy off yet.
With an eye on the door, Francis spotted when Clint had showed up immediately. His eyes followed him silently as he watched the man get his coffees and then approach him. Wow, he was kind of beat up. "Hey," he returned the greeting, kind of standing awkwardly to accept the drink. With it, he gestured at the seat opposite him and sat back down. "So, I'm Francis. And you already guessed who my mother was. I never really knew her though, just the other you."
Sitting down, he took a second to take a large sip of coffee before considering what Francis had said. His son had already made it pretty clear that he came from a pretty bad timeline. Rocks fall, everyone dies wasn't really something you used to describe a happy and peaceful world. That wasn't exactly thrilling. And the implication that Bobbi was dead, well...they might have had their ups and downs over the years, but he'd never have wanted anything to happen to her.
"Bob..." He hesitated. "Your mom is probably one of the smartest people I ever met. Which is why we never worked. She was way too smart to ever put up with me." He wouldn't go into all the details of the myriad of ways in which they hadn't worked. Francis didn't need to deal with that. "Competent as hell. Badass. She's a one-of-a-kind lady. You'd like her. And she's definitely why you're named Francis. She always gave me shit about that name. Figure she was probably mad at me and stuck you with it as punishment." He grinned. Yeah, Bobbi was a pistol, alright. "Hold on a sec...I think..."
He pulled out his phone. He couldn't use it for calls here - interdimensional roaming charges aside that rarely worked - and clicked on the photos, scrolling through until he found the one he'd taken with Bobbi after they'd finalized their divorce. "There she is," he said, showing the photo to Francis. "You look a lot like her." Granted, he and Bobbi both had the blonde hair and blue eyes thing going on, so really he looked like both of them. But it was the sort of thing people said in situations like this.
Wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, he cleared his throat and looked up from the photo. "She was pretty. Dad used to say I looked like her too." And he did, but there was definitely bits of Clint in there as well. Especially the attitude. "Our world was taken over by Ultron and he had gone after the heroes to prevent them from stopping him. She died when I was little. I don't really remember her anymore. Dad died when I was a teenager."
He felt weird, telling Clint all of this, but he did warn him that his world sucked. "The kids of the other Avengers survived though and they were raised by our world's Tony Stark. I was raised separately by my dad until he died. We were part of a group of survivors that moved around Ultra City, formerly New York, avoiding detection from Ultron and his forces. I ran into the other Avenger kids there for the first time and we teamed up to try and get rid of Ultron. Sort of didn't work and there was some time travel involved to make sure we got all traces of him eradicated. I was actually living in the past before I got brought here."
"She's a knockout," he said with a smile that was only partially forced. It was hard, thinking about this. Of course, an easy distraction came in the form of Ultron. "Futzing Ultron," he growled. If there was one thing in this world he hated it was that metal asshole. "Shows up like a bad penny. Should kick Pym's ass all over again for that one." He knew Hank had never really meant for things to go the way they had with the robot, but it was still his fault.
"Sorry you hard to go through that," he said, hoping Francis would see it for genuine sympathy and not condescension. He had no doubt his son had managed, he was a Barton after all, but he wished to hell he'd never had to. "Can't picture Tony as the paternal type, but I guess you do what you have to do when times get rough." It was weird to think of Tony raising the kids of the others. It wasn't that he didn't think he'd stepped up to the plate or done a good job, but the idea of everyone else being dead was a lot to take. "Shit...yeah. That's a lot. How long have you been here?"
Snorting a little at the obvious subject change - his own father had been terrible with emotions - he shrugged. Ultron was such a huge part of his life, it was kind of hard to imagine a world without him. "What happened, happened. Unfortunately I can't change any of it, but we've learned to live with it. My friends - two of the others, Torunn daughter of Thor and Sif and James, son of Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff - are here too. They've been here for months, but I only just got in two weeks ago."
"I gotta admit," he said, "it's weird to think of Cap and Nat having a kid." He tried to picture Steve and Natasha getting together like that and it just wasn't happening. Thor and Sif was less weird, at least. "So you really don't have too much of a head start on me. I'm glad your friends are here, though. It's good...that you've people to support you." He hesitated a moment, taking a big sip of coffee. "I know...look...I know I'm not your dad...I mean...not the dad you know. But I want to be here for you too. So if you ever need anything...just don't hesitate, okay? And you can always talk to me about things. I've got your back."
Tapping the side of his own face, he asked, "So am I allowed to ask what happened to your face?" Because Clint didn't look that great. As a matter of fact, it looked like he had lost a fight.
He laughed. "So, that's a funny story," he said. "I sort of...stole a dog from the Russian mob. And also an apartment building. But they were being assholes. To the tenants. And the dog. So...yeah. Anyway, they didn't take that great. But it's all good now. We managed to fight them off. They still pop up now and again for a fight, but yeah. Should have seen me right after. I was much more of a mess." He shrugged. "That's how I-" He tapped his ear. "But I know how to live with being Deaf, so it's all good."
So he quickly changed the topic. He had heard about the infamous Lucky and the Russian mob from his own dad. It was one of the things he did talk about that was from the past because it was so light hearted (relatively, because they were still the mob). So he laughed because it sounded like this guy had a lot more in common with his own dad than he had originally figured. "The tracksuit mafia, right? My dad fought them too, back in the day. I never got a chance to meet Lucky, but I heard a lot of stories about him. No chance he came through with you?"
"Yeah, the tracksuit mafia," Clint said after a moment spent drinking his coffee. Because coffee. "They were a real bunch of a-holes. But they're dealt with now, so that's something." He grinned. "Lucky doesn't seem to be here, but people say he might show up eventually. Apparently that just happens sometimes which...makes about as much sense as anything else here. So...you're doing okay though? I mean...just...in general?"
Taking a gulp of the coffee that his alt-dad had brought, he fiddled with the cup. "How are you settling in? I know you just got here, so this is probably still super weird for you." He had seen ogres just walking around like regular citizens. He was pretty sure he saw an unicorn the other day. Of course it was super weird.
"It could be worse," he said with a shrug. "It's not so bad here, and I'm adjusting. Probably going to have to swing by that clinic people talk about and check that my aids are okay. Knowing my luck, the dimensional travel is gonna make ‘em short out or something. It's weird but...eh. You get used to a lot of ridiculousness in this line of work."
He shrugged. "But maybe this can be a little downtime," he said. "Or something. I know I could use a vacation."