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Clint Barton was well acquainted with change, specifically sudden change.
One moment you could be getting ready for school or work, the next your house and livelihood destroyed by a natural disaster. One moment you could be waiting for your mom and dad to come home from work, the next, answering two policemen at the door who explained “ I'm so sorry boys, but you need to get your stuff and come with me, your parents are gone’ .
One day Clint was in a bad foster home, the next worse one, and the next, running away to the circus with his brother in the night. The brother who had once been Clint’s biggest protector, but who had long since become someone he had to protect himself against.
His whole life up to this point had been one sudden change after another, and he had long since learned to roll with the punches life seemed so fond of doling out.
Still, the end of the world was a bit new for him.
So were the aliens.
~~~~
Clint, when he had first heard chatter about a Norse god who called himself Loki coming out of a weird space portal in the middle of nowhere New Mexican SHIELD base, had ignored it. It was, after all, New York City. People here were weird, and Clint heard about a new conspiracy theory every week.
When he got confirmation the SHIELD’s New Mexico base HAD been blown up, he chalked it up to the weapons they totally hadn’t designed using the glowing blue power source he 100% knew nothing about being too much to handle in a test run, and accidentally destroying the base. He had seen the aftermath of some of the prototypes in Guatemala last year, and he knew the techs had been working on improving them nonstop since. He also knew that the junior techs tended to go a bit overboard with firepower.
When he got an encoded message from Natasha, telling him they had a code PINK, and to lay low for a while, he did as she said, but still didn’t put any belief into the theory. After all, Nat had sent a code PINK before, about a year ago, and nothing had come of it. (though Clint had heard some rumors floating around) (all wrong of course).
When he saw footage on YouTube of what happened in Germany, he rationalized it as an eccentric cosplay fan, or something along those lines.
Why did he ignore the signs of an alien arriving till long past it making sense to?
You see, Clint had a problem with magic, the supernatural, and all that “paranormal” jazz. Or rather, they had a problem with him.
Natasha had told him that he was a supernatural activities magnet, a fact that he denied fiercely. That was, until Budhapest happened. After that, he had grudgingly accepted his fate, though he still refused to believe in anything paranormal until he had seen it with his own eyes, and it was normally trying to kill or eat him.
Which is why he had dismissed the obvious clues about an alien invasion until he was literally fighting said aliens, and trying not to get killed.
Natasha, bless her heart, had decided that now was the best time to call in her massive favor from Budapest. Clint couldn’t really blame her though, it would be a bit hard to call in a favor if she was dead. He was in the city already, and had made plans to help out anyways, suiting up to join the Avengers fight against a horde of CGI looking aliens.
Honestly, leave it to Natasha to finally get me to join the super secret (almost) boy band she’s been trying to convince me to join for years, just for it to be to fight against freaking aliens.
He loved Natasha with all his heart, even if she often got on his last nerve, but her habit of spinning any situation in her favor in a way that made you question whether or not she had planned everything up till that point, was more than a bit freaky.
Still, whatever his personal opinions on it, she had gotten what she wanted, and Clint had come to fight against the stupid aliens.
With a bow and arrow.
He was screwed.
~~~~~~
S.H.I.E.L.D. - CASE 112236544
REF : RECRUITMENT ASSESSMENT INTERVIEW
FROM : AGENT PHILLIP COULSON
TO : S.H.I.E.L.D. DIRECTOR NICHOLAS J FURY
SUBJ : CLINTON F. BARTON
INTERVIEWER : PHILLIP COULSON
RE : AGENT NATASHA ROMONOFF A.K.A BLACK WIDOW
AGENT IN COMMAND [AIC] : PHILLIP COULSON
S.H.I.E.L.D. CASE CODE NAMES : THE AVENGERS INITIATIVE, HAWKEYE RECRUITMENT, RONIN RECRUITMENT
INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT
COULSON : So tell me why you, a known assassin, who’s on numerous agencies' most wanted lists, decided to come out of hiding and fight in front of hundreds of cameras?
BARTON : The aliens were gonna destroy my favorite pizza shop if they didn’t stop, and if you thought I was gonna take that lying down you’re wrong.
COULSON : So you decided to risk death by aliens, or capture by the government, just to defend your favorite pizza shop?
BARTON : Yep
COULSON : It had nothing to do with Natasha Romonoff calling you in?
BARTON : Who?
COULSON : Agent Natasha Romonoff, code name Black Widow.
BARTON : Look, I don’t know who you're talking about, but pro tip, it’s not a good idea to give out Agents' code names, you never know who would sell them on the black market.
COULSON : Oh cut the crap, we know you two are friends, have for years. She was the one who recommended you for the Avengers Initiative, and she’s the only reason you aren’t currently in a cell.
*BARTON LOOKS AROUND THE HOLDING CELL, ONE EYEBROW RAISED*
BARTON : Not in a cell? You sure about that?
COULSON : Depends.
BARTON : On what?
COULSON : Your answers.
~~~~~~
Back to the Aliens.
There were a lot of them. Like a lot a lot, and while they weren’t hard to kill one on five, they were like ants. A mighty swarm united together, able to do the impossible. Clint hated ants.
Currently, he was perched on the roof of a skyscraper with a beautiful view of Central Park, trying to pick some of the ants off. He was targeting the big worm-like things, lodging his explosive arrows in their weak points, then waiting for the beautiful noise of a tick, tick, BOOM . He was also trying to make sure that the other members of the ‘ Avengers’ weren’t overrun by sheer numbers.
Not that they needed much help. The team was handling the fight amazingly on their own, decimating any alien that got in their way.
Captain America in particular, was tearing through them like confetti, with a violence akin to a maniac toddler stomping the life out of bubble wrap. Clint had heard about the death of Agent Phil Coulson over the SHIELD comms Natasha had given him for Christmas a few years back.
Coulson had been the one to help the Captain adjust to life in the modern world, and according to Nat, they had grown close. From what he had seen, Agent Coulson had been a good man, and Clint was sad to hear of his death.
~~~~~~
INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT CONT.
Barton : Wait, aren’t you supposed to be dead? I thought you were supposed to be dead.
Coulson : Well, as you can see, I’m not. So can we please get back to the current situation? Mainly keeping you out of prison ?
Barton : Nah, you can’t get away from my questions that easily. You’ve told your Captain at least, haven’t you? Cus that would be a nasty bit of emotional manipulation to get him to fight good otherwise.
Agent Coulson’s face shifts to what seems to be emotional pain. Interviewee Barton picks up on this, and starts laughing.
Barton : heh, what a jerk move. Reminds me of Romanoff. No wonder she likes you.
Agent Coulson clears his throat
Coulson : So you’re admitting that you do know Agent Romanoff?
Barton : Eh, sure, why not? Not like you didn’t already know that. Why, I’m sure she told you herself.
Coulson : What is your, er, relationship with Agent Romanoff.
Barton : Why did you say it like that? And why did your face do that weird spasm thing?
Coulson : Are you currently partners with Agent Romanoff?
Barton : I mean, yeah we’re partners in crime, but don’t worry I’m the only one doing the crime!
Coulson : Muttering * and they say I’m the dense one * Are you and Natasha Romanoff currently in a romantic relationship?
Barton starts laughing uncontrollably
Barton : Ahhhahaha. That's hysterical!!! Me and Natasha? Together? Absolutely no way. I think I would actually combust.
Coulson : And why is that so funny Mr. Barton?
Barton : First off, it’s hysterical that you think I have a straight bone in my body. And second, I’m aro/ace.
Coulson : Yes, we know you’re an arrow ace, that's half the reason we want to recruit you.
Barton : No, not an arrow ace, but I am that too I suppose. Aro/ace, as in aromantic asexual. As in isn’t romantically or sexually atracted to anyone.
Coulson : Oh. I… apologize for my rude assumptions.
Barton : Eh, don’t worry about it. I’m super used to it by now, everyone assumes we’re together since you know we’re close friends but one of us is male and the other is female. Which obviously means we’re dating, right? Really says something about the heteronormativity of today's society, doesn’t it?
Barton : Speaking of Natasha, did you know she threatened to sell my dog to the animal shelter if I didn’t fight those Aliens? Stone cold warrior that Natasha is.
Coulson : You have a dog?
Barton : Yep! His name is Lucky, and he’s the best boy ever!!!
Coulson : Where do you keep him?
Barton : On the moon in a space suit. I take a rocket up every week to visit him, and hire the best robotic dog sitter out there, Ferdigello, to take care of him while I’m away.
Barton grins, looking right into the camera, right into your soul.
Barton : Say Fury, you should really take Goose up there, Lucky could use another friend.
~~~~~~
Clint was pretty sure that the Avengers could have handled the aliens if there were only a few hundred of them. Sure, it would have taken some time and a fair bit of effort, but it would have been manageable. Difficult yes, but manageable.
Unfortunately for them, there weren't just a few hundred, there were several thousand, a number that just kept climbing even though they had already killed hundreds.
And well, hundreds were a lot different than thousands. They have been at it for hours and despite that they had barely made a dent in the opposing armies ranks.
Clint was getting tired; he couldn't remember the last time he had slept for more than 10 minutes, wanting to be ready if Natasha decided to call on him. And well he had gone for much longer without sleep in possibly worse conditions, those conditions weren't defending the Earth from existential beings.
Someone needed to do something to turn the tide in their favor and they needed to do it fast. Natasha had briefed him about the WSC's plans if they failed and Clint knew they didn't have much time before the plan became a reality.
~~~~~
Coulson : What was going on in your mind at the time?
Barton : The Shrek soundtrack, specifically All Star. Great movie, a true cinematic marvel.
Coulson : Barton, you really aren’t giving me a lot to work with here. If you don’t start answering our questions seriously, there’s only so much Fury can do to protect you from the other Government dogs.
Barton : Fine. You want a serious answer? My thought process at the time was that I was…
~~~~~~~
Going to die Clint was going to die alone overrun by a swarm of ugly generic looking aliens at the ripe old age of 22.
He didn't even know how it had happened. One minute he was doing fine picking off particularly particularly nasty aliens and generally being a gift to humanity and the next a whole flock?? swarm??? host????? murder?????? Of beasts were surrounding him, too many to handle on his own.
Which led him to his current situation hanging off the side of a very tall building by the tips of his fingernails. It wasn't pleasant.
It wasn't pleasant but it was familiar and Clint knew how to control his fall so that he ended up crashing into a floor below him through the windows instead of splattering on the pavement like a pancake.
He had just gathered enough courage to let go when he was jared from his freefall by a strong pair of arms.
" Hey there again Barton," A cheerful voice called in his ear.
"Not that I'm not happy to see you again but we've got to stop meeting like this," a huge smile stretched across his face as he replied to the Falcon. AKA Sam Wilson, AKA one of the best people Clint knew.
~~~~~
“SO what’s the plan, Hawkeye? As much as I like this, I can’t keep flying you around forever,” Sam yelled in his ear.
“Do you know of any way to close the portal?”
“Aside from commandeering one of their hoverboards, flying it into the portal, and hunting for an off switch or mothership from the other side, I’m not sure.”
Clint considered Sam’s idea. It sounded crazy enough to work. Besides, Clint had always wanted to ride a hoverboard, and that pathetic plastic monstrosity Nat had gotten him for his birthday last year totally didn't count.
Making up his mind (he really wanted to ride that hoverboard, and if he died, well it would be a really cool way to die.) he called up to Sam. “Drop me off at the top of Stark Tower.”
He couldn’t see his friend’s face from his position, but he could tell he wasn't happy. Clint knew that if he survived this he would be getting another lecture about his self sacrificing tendencies, and general lack of regard for personal safety, but he also knew it was a pretty big if on him surviving, so he wasn’t worried about it. It helped that Sam knew that his idea was the only idea available that didn’t include nuking all of Manhattan.
“Clint, please, don’t tell me you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do,” Sam said with a long, suffering sigh that came with knowing Clint for more than 2 weeks.
“Fine than, I won’t tell you,” he replied with a cheerful voice that didn’t reflect the absolute terror he was feeling. “Oh, can we get a hoverboard?”
“First of all, I’m not an Uber, second, we are not on some fun trip to the grocery store. And Third, I can’t believe I’m saying this, fine. But when I get murdered by Widow for letting you kill yourself, know that I will be haunting you in the afterlife, and I will be annoying as ghostly possible.”
The arms encompassing him tightened for a moment before loosening again, Sam’s way of saying goodbye in case Clint didn’t make it.
They shot upwards at a speed that made his heart pound, then plummeted back to the earth like a rock.
As quick as they accelerated, they decelerated, and before he knew it, his feet were touching the ground again.
Sam looked at him with an apologetic expression, before waving and shooting off into the sky again.
Clint got the message loud and clear. “Sorry, but you’re on your own from here”
It was an achingly familiar expression.
He shoved down his irrational disappointment, and started jogging towards Stark Tower, now lit up like a minecraft beacon, with a blue light springing from the top, before dissolving into a portal.
If Clint was to take a guess, he would say that the giant beam of light and space portal currently streaming out aliens was the source of said aliens. Genius, he was aware.
Well, at least he had a literal glowing target.
Now to acquire a hoverboard.
~~~~
INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT CONT.
Coulson : So you decided to take a hoverboard into the portal to find the mothership? This was your big plan?
Barton : It was a decent plan. The aliens had to be coming from somewhere, and that somewhere had to have enough space to hold all of them. Plus, I highly doubt Loki was the person behind all of this, even if they were the figurehead. Aren't they supposed to be a trickster?
Coulson : Look, it might logically be a good plan. But its absolutely suicidal. Completely restless. The chances of it actually working are way less than your chances of being struck by lightning.
Barton : So? Besides, I've been struck by lightning before. Twice actually.
~~~~~
Turns out getting a hover board is easy. Flying said hover board to the top of Stark Tower is a bit challenging, sure, but relatively simple. Getting from the top of Stark Tower into the wormhole is harder, mostly because the Crazy Cosplayer from Germany has decided to rear their greasy head again, and is now claiming to be the God of Mischief Loki.
Clint doesn't buy it.
He also doesn't buy "Thor" as anything more than a himbo that Natasha found on the side of the road somewhere and decided to forcefully recruit.
Thor finds them in the middle of an epic fight and claims Loki as his brother. Which… yeah he could see it.
Of course this is when Crazy decides to stab their "brother" with a knife, which, given what Clint knows of sibling relationships, tracks.
Shaking aside his sense of deja vu, he uses the golden opportunity to fire off a trap arrow at Loki, effectively trapping them in a long string of cable.
Once he made sure Loki was properly secured he took away their golden glowy staff.
Clint had no idea what it did, or even what it was really, but one thing he had learned from years of Shadowing Nat on missions is that if it's gold or glowy, its probably important.
~~~~~
Coulson : You took the scepter because it looked cool?
Barton : No, I took the stick because it looked important. And I was right, wasn't I?
Coulson : Do you even know what it does?
Barton : Do you?
Coulson clears his throat
Coulson : What happened after apprehending Loki?
Barton : You have the footage, don't you?
Coulson : It was a bit unclear. Please, enlighten me.
~~~~~
Clint was lucky for once. A man in a white lab coat with sandy blond hair and fading blue eyes stood in front of him, with Natasha a bit behind him.
Clint had no idea why, but the man practically screamed scientist.
He looked past him to Natasha. She had a smile. It was not a happy smile. Clint started to sweat harder. He was screwed.
"Hi Nat, fancy seeing you here, huh?" He asked with a fake chipper voice.
Her smile grew.
"Yeah, it really is a funny coincidence, since I could have sworn I told you to stay on the rooftop across from the tower and not to take unnecessary risks."
"Natasha, you know me! I would never," Clint said, putting a hand to his chest in indignation.
She rolled her eyes, but her lips quirked up slightly, which meant he wasn't in danger of being thrown off the roof in the next ten minutes.
"What are you doing up here anyway Barton? You have to admit, this is far from your nest."
"I'm trying to destroy these beast's control ship, and then hopefully close the portal," he turned his head to address the scientist. "Any clue on how to close the portal doc?"
He blinked owlishly at Clint.
"Yes actually. I was just explaining it to your friend here," he gestured to Natasha. "And I'm sorry, who are you? I don't believe we've met before."
"We haven't. My name's Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, the greatest marksman in the world," he said sticking out his hand.
Scientist dude took his hand like it was a moldy sandwich and shook it gingerly.
"Pleasure? My name's Doctor Erik Selvig. Hawkeye, huh? Weren't you in the news a few years back for blowing up three politicians' yachts with fireworks and teargas?"
"First off, the politicians were completely corrupt and totally deserved it, and second it was four yachts actually."
"He's very proud of that fact," Nat said, choosing this moment to butt in again. "Now, what's the plan this time, Hawkeye?"
"You're not going to like it." He warned
"I never do," she said with a sigh. "So what's the plan?"
He outlined the plan in all its three step glory to Erik and Nat, and neither looked happy about it. Instead they looked resigned, like they hated his idea, but also knew it was the only one that would give them any chance.
~~~~
Coulson : So you got the help of Doctor Selvig.
Barton : Yep. He was pretty chill after he got over the whole "terrorist mercenary" thing. I think we're gonna try and go out for lunch together some time.
Coulson : As heartwarming as it is to hear about your blossoming friendship, I'm more interested in learning about the off switch for the tesseract.
Barton : Oh. So basically, you shove the gold glowy staff into the force field surrounding the device, and have the point touch the blue glowy cube
Coulson : Touch Loki's scepter to the tesseract?
Barton : That's literally what I just said.
~~~~
Clint's first impression of space was that it was cold.
His second thought was that he should have brought a space suit or something. He vaguely remembered reading somewhere that space was also deadly, and while his black kevlar suit was comfortable, it didn't have long sleeves, and wasn't made to keep him warm in temperatures under 60.
Weirdly enough, his appendages weren't freezing off though. Sure, it was doctor office level cold, but it wasn't dead of night Siberian winter cold.
Clint decided that he was safe from dying of frostbite at least, and since he hadn't stopped breathing yet, that there was some type of oxygen.
He idly wondered if this meant he was in another universe as he scanned his surroundings.
If he thought the army outside was impressive, they held nothing to the vast expanse of aliens in space.
Dozens of worm-like creatures floated around, some loading up smaller aliens from a docking bay on the side of the mothership. Hundreds, if not thousands, of beasts on hoverboards streamed towards the portal entrance, more departing from a hidden hanger on the ship every second he stood watching. And there was of course the mothership herself.
The thing was ginormous, a solid rectangle of dark metal that stretched on for miles. It had multiple docking bays and hangers, all of them full of departing aliens. There was a giant glass bubble in the middle of the front of the spaceship.
Clint could see rapid movement, and actual color behind the glass, and maneuvered his board to get a closer look at the bubble.
What looked to be high tech computer screens ran numbers and commands, with humanoid beings occasionally entering lines of code into them. The back wall was a mass of video feeds from the fight, each one from what Clint could only assume was a go pro attached to each alien being.
He got even closer, and took out his binoculars from one of his pockets. Using them he scanned the feeds again. Horror settled in with his dawning realization. The videos weren’t from a high tech go pro at all, they were from the alien’s own eyes.
~~~~~~
Coulson : You’re telling me that the aliens were basically puppets being controlled by higher up aliens?
Barton : From what I can tell… yes.
Coulson : They looked and acted like they were making their own choices when fighting though. Besides, how could anyone control such a large army at once?
Barton : I think they just had a few base commands, like “attack New York” then they let the aliens decide how to attack best.
Coulson : Hmmmm. That does make sense. Anyways, how did you take out the control ship?
Barton : Oh, I didn’t. I just blew up the computers and aliens they were using to control the other aliens. And as for how…
~~~~~~
Clint considered his arrow collection. He had a few normal arrows, a few more trap arrows, and a healthy collection of explosive arrows. He also had a boomerang arrow, a sticky arrow, and, finally, an EMP arrow. He took the EMP arrow and strung it on his bow. He drew the bow string back with an inhale, aimed at one of the big server-like things in the bubble, and fired with an exhale.
There was no boom this time, instead there was the view of hundreds of screens fading to black, and thousands of aliens going lifeless.
The humanoids were still alive, which further proved that they were the ones in control. They had also identified the source of their loss of power as him if the angry pointing was anything to go by.
Clint quickly considered his options.
Option 1: Take the hoverboard and fly out of the portal as fast as possible
Option 2: Blow up the bubble and then take the hoverboard and fly out of the portal as fast as possible.
He reached in his quiver and pulled out his best explosive arrow.
~~~~~~~
Coulson : Did the explosive arrow work in space?
Barton : Surprisingly enough? Yes. Which is part of the reason my working theory is that wherever they came from had different natural laws then us. I mean, I don’t know much about space, but I DO know that you generally aren’t supposed to be able to breathe in space without a spacesuit.
Coulson : Thank you Barton, that was very insightful.
Barton : I have my moments. Anyways, what happens to me now?
Coulson : What do you mean?
Barton : While, at the beginning of the interview you said that this could go badly for me if I didn’t cooperate.
Coulson : Ahhh yes. Well, you’ve definitely cooperated well. You are free to go Mr. Barton.
Barton : Actually, I wanted to hear more about the job offer. To work for SHIELD? If that’s still on the table that is.
Coulson : It is most definitely on the table.
Batron : Ok. Good. Cool.
Barton : Also, let's talk about this “Loki” person. Are their eyes blue or green?