Avengers 5

Aug. 2nd, 2015 10:24 pm
hasthehighground: In SHIELD gear, looking serious and tired (Default)
He doesn't find out from Fury, or Hill, or even Natasha -- he finds out in a half-destroyed shawarma restaurant from Stark. Mid-conversation, mid-meal, haphazardly eating because there's still food in front of them.

"What?" he asks, to Natasha, who's gone still. Her leg muscles bunch up under his foot, her face cautious, and that's how he knows Stark isn't just -- isn't wrong.

"Clint," she says, and breathes. "Phil's -- Loki killed him."

He shoves back from the table, Stark and Rogers' voices a blur behind him. Maybe Rogers tries to follow, but no one actually does.

An abandoned mid-town, one night only.

He stands up, wiping the vomit off his mouth, and rests himself against the bus stop shelter. It's almost cold outside, and his eyes close.

19 years, and Coulson's just...

He didn't know.


Eventually, Natasha comes out first, and silently takes up watch by his shoulder. They don't speak, and the sound of the other Avengers talking as they come out is muffled like his hearing aids are miscalibrated.

He reaches up to touch one, then decides against it. Even if they are, he doesn't want to fix it.

Natasha catches it, though, and leans slightly against him, tilting her head towards him.

He shrugs her off, gently.

They keep watch on each other for the rest of the night.

Avengers 4

Aug. 1st, 2015 10:05 pm
hasthehighground: Natasha emotionally grounds Clint ([natasha] sometimes the world falls)
She knocks him out, and she talks him down when he wakes up.

You can't think about that, Clint, she says, like he won't drag up the numbers once this is done.

Once this is done.

He has to wait for this to be done.

She sits with him, shoulder to shoulder, and he asks what Loki did to her -- her eyes, the green of old Coke bottles, look away.

Phil once told him Natasha would burn the world down for him, and maybe Clint didn't believe it.

"Tasha," he says, voice rough.

He kisses her before he showers -- soft, against her cheekbone by her eye, hand cupping her chin, and again to her lips. She breathes out, like relief. She's precious to him. She'd dragged herself back into war for him, and he'd forgotten.

He has to find a way to tell her.

Once this is done.

He has to wait for this to be done.

Avengers 3

Aug. 1st, 2015 05:16 pm
hasthehighground: ([heartwashed] intense)
Clint doesn't pace. He stands, steady in the purloined Quinjet as it signals its arrival to the Helicarrier.

It's easy. They should have changed the codes.

(In an operation this large, codes remain active for up to 48 hours post-change. It's just not feasible to change them in time. He helped run those calculations last year.

He almost smirks.)

He motions to the pilot to lower the back and walks out, positioning himself. He sights the turbine casing, and breathes as he feels the wind currents. Then he turns, to loose the arrow in the direction that will force the turbine to bring it to itself.

He doesn't look back. He can feel it hit. The pilot lands, and he detonates the package.


Sitwell's sitting at the computer Clint needs. Sitwell's the one who suggested the USB arrow.

Clint wonders if Sitwell knows he's turned. If he has, he'll have told Fury about the arrow.

(But if this doesn't work, he can do close to as much damage by putting the next one through Sitwell's neck.)

The arrow works perfectly. SHIELD R&D has never been anything if not efficient. Fury has never been anything if not closed mouthed.

Sitwell has never done anything less than trust him entirely, eyes widening at the arrow as he glances back up.

One of Fury's bullets ricochets off the wall next to Clint, and he withdraws.

His boss is in the holding cells, and Banner will be unleashed soon enough.


Clint's striding down the catwalk to the detention center, listening to the thrum of the turbines through the metal walls. Something's wrong. The back starboard engine is being restarted. It's sick, but it's coming to.

That's all right. Thor and Banner have been managed. Rogers and Stark are small game, in comparison. And the goal of this mission is to eat up time for Loki's allies to make their mark, for Loki to escape. Clint's going to facilitate his boss's transfer now.

Clint doesn't speed up, pace steady, but he feels -- there it is. A whisper of fabric behind him. Someone who can take advantage of the range of his hearing aids.


He turns.

Avengers 2

Jul. 30th, 2015 10:40 pm
hasthehighground: eyes blue from Loki's influence ([heartwashed] neutral)
Clint is in his room for four and a half hours.

He begins by changing into the pajamas Bar gave him. He knows well enough, already, that he will not sleep. He props one of the pillows from the bed on the back of a chair, chooses a spot on the door, and watches it.

It's quiet here. He can think.

He breathes out. Fury will handle Rogers. Fury's point person for Ops is Coulson. Coulson has a personal relationship with Stark. Coulson's point person is Romanoff.

He doesn't have to worry about Banner not being on the Helicarrier.

As his brain quiets, he can feel the blue in his mind, unwrapping the relevant knowledge, the pieces of information he's never had the time to put together.

Clint breathes in.


It takes four hours before the thrumming under his skin is too much, and he stands. He stretches, slow but methodical, and uses the restroom.

On his way down the stairs, he returns the key and the pajamas. He picks up a few protein bars, just in case, and has another glass of water.

Then he leaves: he has an eyeball he needs to find before SHIELD does, and his boss needs his weapon.

Loki needs him -- who else could infiltrate the Helicarrier?

Avengers 1

Jul. 28th, 2015 10:44 pm
hasthehighground: ([heartwashed] a new master)
Clint's been on enough battlefields to know when something's gone wrong, even in the split second before the alarms starts ringing. There's a taste, or a smell – it's palpable, and he's off his ledge immediately.

He stays when the rest of the senior security staff leaves to coordinate the evacuation, walking around the perimeter of the lab. Then he goes back to his perch, where he's out of the way, and watches. And thinks.

Fury shows up: Clint relaxes.

"If there's been any tampering, it wasn't at this end," he tells his boss, who actually has the power to do anything about that.

"This end?" Fury repeats, and Clint's taken by surprise. The cube's a door. That's what doors do: open.

And then, mid-explanation, it does.


The alien has his arm caught, a point of pain that's keeping Clint's thoughts from clearing out, but he hasn't killed him yet. Above the unearthly hum of the Cube, the sickly crackling of the energy gathering in the roof of the room, he thinks: That's probably good, that means he needs Clint, that means Clint can figure out his plan, figure out–

The alien smiles, and Clint's breath catches in his throat.

"You have heart," he says, and before Clint can figure out what he means, the blade is pressed lightly against his chest, and it's probably just the cold that makes it feel so sharp—

The cold that washes over him, that burrows deep, that suffuses into his tissue and his brain and his heart and the blade doesn't feel sharp anymore. It feels right.

His boss smiles again, stepping back, and Clint holsters his gun. He's not a threat: he's a loyal soldier.

And he can draw it again the moment Loki needs aid.


hasthehighground: In SHIELD gear, looking serious and tired (Default)
Clint Barton

February 2017



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