Stats: General Audiences; No Archive Warnings Apply; Gen (some implied slash at the end and pre-established F/M); 15,667 words; 10/10 chapters
Synopsis: Clint needs out of SHIELD. He's still got a few weeks of mandated therapy left and he doesn't know how long he can keep it from them-- the fact that Loki might have been justified. That there might have been something bigger going on. He's pretty sure they'll just write him off as compromised and throw him in a deep dark hole if he sticks around for the head shrinkers to find the truth.
They certainly won't like it if they find out about the dreams he's been having. Dreams where Loki's running, fighting for revenge and his life and sure isn't locked up in Asgard. Dreams where Loki begs for his help.
Clint would help him if he could. But what can one small, un-powered mortal do to help a god?
Review: This is honestly one of the best MCU fics I've ever read. Am I biased because it has amazing Clint Barton centric characterization and I love Clint? Absolutely. But the fic itself is just one of those stories that really makes you wonder "what if?" and paints a picture so strong you jolt from the landing back on earth when it ends. It's set right after the first Avengers movie, and as already stated-- it has an amazing deep dive on the characterization of MCU Hawkeye as well as Loki. 99/10 would recommend.
Summary: Clint leaves to find a person from his past, surrounded by the family he created.
A/N: <3
Masterlist
Whumptober Masterlist
.
2013
NEW YORK
“Can you find someone for me?” Clint asks Tony, looking around the room, and the technology it holds.
He can’t help but touch the screens and play with the holograms as he waits for Tony to reply.
“Can you pass me the copper wire?” Tony asks.
Clint hops up on the bench and throws it to him, his aim true.
“I can find anyone, if they want to be found, and even then, likely I can find them if they don’t want to be,” he answers distractedly.
“Can you hold this here?”
Clint hops down and pushes on the wire, analysing the circuitry and frowning.
“You’ve wired it wrong,” he surmises, pointing with his other hand.
Tony swears and rubs his face.
“How long have you been up for?” Clint asks, a pinch of worry for his friend and his insomniac ways.
Tony looks up and glances at the time.
Jarvis answers for him, “twenty six hours.”
Clint swears it’s sounds almost disapproving.
“What are you trying to do?” he asks, knowing that until the project has reached a satisfactory conclusion, there’s no way Tony will stop.
Rubbing his forehead, Tony shows him the circuit board connected to the towers alarm system, and automatic controls for system lockdown.
Clint frowns.
“Has there been any attempts to get in here?”
He doesn’t understand why Tony was upgrading the already functioning system.
He shakes his head.
“No, but I just..” he pauses.
“Who do you want me to find?”
Clint ignores him and without words helps, correcting the circuitry then placing the upgraded board into Tony’s hand.
“You know, if you get sleep, these things become easier,” he grins.
Tony rolls his eyes, the lower limbs of the suits attaching as he flies to the control box outside and installs the board quickly.
There’s a quick glow, and a light force field covers the tower before disappearing again.
Clint didn’t realise how big the project was, and smiles as Tony returns.
“Come get some food,” he prompts, holding the door open as the legs come away and he reaches ground again.
Tony obliges.
Heading to the kitchen, Clint explains about Gus.
The ex-carney, convenience store owner that stayed close to the circus and protected Clint from future foster homes and set him on the path of this life.
There’s some hesitation in the way Tony replies, and Clint doesn’t quite know if he should have trusted him with the story.
“Why do you want to see him again?” Tony asks, handing him a Stark-Pad.
Clint hesitates, feeling judged in the moment.
“I want to tell him about Barney, maybe just check that he’s okay. Thank him I suppose?”
He doesn’t know, not in any way he can put into words.
Tony is uncharacteristically quiet, before he takes the stark-pad off of Clint and opens up a data base, taking time, he seems to hack into some sort of data base.
It takes him a minute or so, before he hands the tablet back.
“He’s still in Iowa, Cedar Rapids, last known address was near the Prairie Park Fishery,” he pauses, “we can go now if you want?”
Clint stops in his tracks.
“What?”
Tony points upwards.
“Two hours, we can go there now if you want?”
Clint nods slowly.
“Yeah okay,” he says impulsively, “let me just send a message to Natasha, and let her know.”
Tony shrugs, “sure, I’ll be up at the hanger, if you ask Steve it will be a party.”
Clint decides on calling Natasha, feeling a slight urgency on getting going.
“Hey,” she picks up, after a beat.
“Hey,” he answers.
“I asked Tony to find Gus and he found him in like five seconds. He asked if we wanted to go visit, and I’ve said yes,” he says quickly.
“Doyouwannacome?”
Natasha takes a second before responding, and then tells him she’d meet him at the hanger.
He smiles. It’s like a road trip with his friends, something they’d do at the circus.
It’s seems somewhat fitting.
Picking up the phone again, he calls Steve.
“Hey man,” he says as the phone clicks over.
“Hey,” Steve replies.
“Natasha and Tony and I are going on a bit of trip to see an old friend I have in Iowa. Do you want to come?”
“When?” Steve asks.
“Now?”
Steve takes a moment and then agrees, Clint thinks he can hear the change in his tone, a small amount of pleasure at being invited.
“Come to the hanger when you can,” Clint tells him, “we’ll be waiting.”
.
The trip to Iowa is an exchange of stories. Clint starts by telling the story of Gus and how he taught him magic, he shows the others a trick and then produces a coin from Steve’s ear.
Much to his delight, Steve replicates the trick and produces two coins.
Tony, not to be outdone, produces two coins and a card.
Natasha bursts out laughing.
“You’re all magic nerds,” she says, joyfully.
The rest of the trip they try and outdo each other, Natasha taking the lead in flying the plane as they all show off random magic tricks, and teaching each other the ones they don’t know.
She gives them a ten minute warning and looks back to see Clint smiling, a true smile that had been so rare from the events of New York to learning of his brothers death.
She hopes this is positive and that Gus is the man Clint believes him to be.
Otherwise, she might kill him herself.
.
Clint knocks on the door.
Alone now, he wishes he hadn’t been so adamant to do this himself. He’d left Natasha with the others in the plane, promising to be back soon.
The anticipation feels heavy as he hears movement in the house and he hopes Tony was right in the address.
The door opens slowly, and Clint smiles lightly.
“Hello,” he opens, “I don’t know if you—“
“Clint?”
The door opens wider, revealing Gus, now older but still the same man.
“Hi,” he says shyly.
“Clint!”
He pulls him into a hug and Clint feels himself sink into it, feeling like a kid again.
“Come in,” Gus asks, ushering him through the door.
“Can I get you anything?
Clint doesn’t get a chance to answer as Gus disappears into the kitchen and returns with beer and a bottle opener.
He takes it and opens them both, offering it to cheers which Gus does with a smile.
“Clint,” he says, almost in reverence.
“How are you?”
“I’m good,” Clint replies, not sure what to say.
He came here to say that Barney was dead. To thank him for helping him when he was a child, to pointing him in the direction of the military.
“I — wanted to find you,” he starts.
Gus stands, finds an album on the bench and hands it to Clint.
“Open it,” he gestures.
The album has photos, some articles from the circus, pictures of Clint he’d never seen before, gently he turns the pages, emotion welling inside.
He can’t speak.
Gently touching the photos, he sees himself holding the bow and arrow as a young boy, stance strong and gaze focussed.
“That’s my favourite,” Gus says, watching Clint carefully, “you had such natural talent from the get go, and even if archery didn’t get you famous, I think you would have been a fantastic pickpocket.”
Clint huffs a laugh, turning the page.
“And now you’re an Avenger?”
There’s clippings from the paper from the last twelve months.
Of Tony, Steve and Thor, of him and Natasha. Articles and pictures.
Clint thinks it’s one of the kindest things someone has ever done.
He smiles.
“I’m just a human, amongst superhero’s, metal men and gods,” he laughs, starting at the start again to take the photos in.
“Maybe it’s what they need, to keep them in line,” Gus retorts.
Clint stops at a picture.
Barney stands arms crossed with a smile as Clint does a handstand.
He stares at it, and forces breath.
Barney.
“He’s dead,” he whispers, taking the photo out, he shows it Gus.
“He’s dead,” he repeats again.
Gus hobbles over to sit with Clint, taking the photo and then handing it back.
“I know,” he nods, and hugs Clint in a side hug.
“He came here, a couple of years ago, asking after you, I showed him and told him you had gone into the military.”
He turns the page and Clint finds the picture of himself in uniform.
“He was so proud of you,” Gus tells him.
“I think he wanted to tell you.”
Clint can’t help it; he cries.
For the loss of his brother, for all the words left unsaid and the time they’d never get back.
“Do you think he knew I loved him?” he asks, voice as small as a child’s.
“Of course he did,” Gus nods.
He closes the album, and motions for Clint to follow him.
“Barney stayed here, for a little while at least, and drew some pictures. I held onto them, as I hoped— I wished I would see you again.”
He opens the door and pulls out some pictures from a drawer.
The pictures are of Clint and Barney as children, their faces small and chubby.
Clint feels the tears on his face as he furiously wipes at them.
“Your brother, he was complicated and could be harsh and I think he wanted to protect you but didn’t know how… You were both so young.”
Gus looks down.
“I think I failed you both but I did the best I could,” he admits.
Clint shakes his head.
“No,” he refutes, “you saved my life, probably Barney’s too. I came to thank you.”
Gus waves him off.
“Take them,” he tells Clint, “they’re yours, the album too if you want anything from it.”
Clint nods, finding the album, knowing what pictures he wants and the ones he wants to show Natasha, maybe even the others.
He sits back down, not quite ready to leave yet.
“I’m going to get married,” he confesses.
Gus looks up, his smile wide.
“Will you come?”
The nod and laugh is infectious.
“Of course, of course I will,” he agrees.
He sits back and takes a sip of the still cold beer.
“Tell me about her,” he asks.
.
The plane home is in darkness, as Clint shares the chocolate and pictures that Gus sent with him.
He tells the stories behind the pictures, prompting Steve and Tony to tell their own.
Natasha holds onto the picture of Clint and Barney and stares at it for a long time.
“He looks like you,” she whispers later.
“Remind me,” he tells her, “remind me to tell you the story behind that one.”
Natasha hands it back to him, and nods, bringing her head to his and pushing it against his.
“I’m proud of you,” she whispers, so the others can’t hear.
“It’s hard facing our pasts, and I’m glad it went well.”
He regards Natasha and all the history she has with facing her past; the good and the bad.
