➵ for usavatar ● there's no justice in the world and there never was

[arches]

<sub>( In battle, he can forget. Eyes on a target, a mission to fulfill, and no room for error, there is no time to think about who he is or what’s been done to him. In battle, there is purpose, and the adrenaline of living each moment between life and death, and the thrilling feeling of victory.

And then, it is over, and he is left with the things he has done.

Eating shawarma does not give him purpose. It does not help him forget. It’s delicious, to be sure, but Natasha’s presence beside him is really the only thing keeping him grounded, the only thing stopping him from bolting. He doesn’t belong at this table—the men around him are heroes, and Natasha as much as any of them. And he? He spent his week sniping innocent security guards and his own associates.

He puts his leg up on her chair, and she touches his knee, briefly. If one woman was capable of absolving him of everything, it would be her. But even she can’t do that for him, so he munches into his sandwich and smacks his lips and tells Banner that green is really his color. And Stark is going on about how he deserves a statue, and Thor is clapping him on the back, and the captain? The captain Clint can’t get a read on. He’s an American hero, a living legend. And Clint Barton is nothing but a man with blood on his hands.

They wrap up their food and get up, and Natasha is touching his shoulder and whispering something about keeping a promise (he finds out later that she’s conferring with Banner, finding him a way to vanish and a place to vanish to), and Thor and Stark are still wrapped up in their conversation, so despite Clint’s best efforts, he finds himself face-to-face with Steve Rogers, genuine American hero. )</sub>

Comments

[arches]

<sub>( At first, Clint isn't sure how to respond. He has enough pride, enough arrogance, that he doesn't want to deny what he did out there today. He knows he did good--he's a tactician, an eye in the sky. It's what he does and what he's good at, and he certainly doesn't need validation from this outdated military hero to tell him that.

But when Steve mentions the hole in the universe, something inside Clint breaks--some last vestige of control, the way he's been holding this all together for the past few hours. )</sub>

But that was my fault, too.

<sub>( He starts laughing. For a man who usually disguises just about everything with a warm, well-meaning humor, it's a dark and bitter contrast. It's a laughter that is a hair away from being sobs, a laughter that lets him sink into a dark place.

And sink he does, because the next thing he knows he's slumped against the couch and he's holding his head in his hand and shaking with the gravity of everything.

You have heart, Loki had said. Right now he wants nothing more than to tear it out. )</sub>

[usavatar]

No.

[Steve slides off the couch and onto the floor to sit next to Clint, not trying to offer any comfort beyond his presence.] And yes.

It's Fury's fault for researching that thing, for drawing Loki's attention. SHIELD's fault for trying to hide it. Howard's for pulling it out of the water. Mine, for not burying it with me.

[He inhales around the knot in his chest.] Heck, it's Thor's, his peoples', for leaving it here.

Yeah. Those are technicalities. It doesn't change what happened. But technically I... [He stops, and the next words are a quiet struggle.] Technically, I didn't push my best friend off of a HYDRA train on a run through the mountains. What happened is still in some portion my fault. But the question I've got for you, Agent Barton, is what if it had been someone else? Agent Romanoff, or Hill, or Agent Coulson? Would you rather bear the responsibility for what was done through you, or be left helpless to watch someone you care about blame themselves?

...This is what I know. [He drapes his arms over his knees and rests his head against them.] This is the only thing I'm really sure of, in all this. If you let it destroy you, then Loki. Well. We never beat him at all. If you let him put something broken where you're supposed to be, you never really escaped in the first place.

[arches]

<sub>( Clint doesn't look at the captain as he speaks. His hysteric laughter, at least, has subsided, but now he is just silent, head in his hands. He's listening, of course, and he can't disagree with what Steve's saying. But there is a stark difference between knowing, nominally, where the true fault lies and feeling absolved of what he's done.

When he finally speaks, he still sounds a bit incensed, but his voice echoes, hollowly. )</sub>

But it's not about what might have happened, is it? It wasn't Nat or Hill or Coulson. We've all got to deal with the crap that happens to us and the things we do. You think I don't know that?

<sub>( Of course he knows it. He is one of SHIELD's best agents, one of the most competent men in the world. He may not be a scientific genius or an enhanced super-soldier, but he is a man hardened by years spent in the shadows, working to protect a world that doesn't know he exists. Clint Barton knows a lot about sacrifice, and pushing down his own feelings, and doing what needs to be done.

So maybe what's really bothering him is how much this effected him. How much his conviction's been shaken. How he feels like he's falling off a cliff, scrambling to find purchase in the rocks. But he'll be damned if he'll let himself hit that ground. )</sub>

It's not a matter of being destroyed, or broken--those things have already happened to me.

Today, we saved the world. Tomorrow, I have to get up and deal with those things.

[usavatar]

Yep. [Steve doesn't lift his head, feeling spent. He's not sure what else he can say. There's nothing, really. Clint knows what's necessary. Where his life stands. He's not giving up, which is the only thing Steve could really have tried to stop.] And the day after that, and the one after that.

[He pulls Coulson's card out of his pocket and sits up enough to turn it over and over again between his fingers.] You won't be alone.

[arches]

_{( This time, when Clint laughs, it's warm and has a sense of something clean--camaraderie, being able to poke fun at himself. )}

God, you really are a Boy Scout, aren't you?

[usavatar]

[He relaxes, relieved that Barton's laughter sounds healthy instead of ragged. Steve raises an eyebrow and shrugs, wry.]

I wouldn't know. Never joined them.

[arches]

Yeah, 'cause you obviously didn't need to.

_{( Clint likes girl scouts better, personally. They sell cookies. )}

[usavatar]

If you say so. [A tiny grin might be teasing at the corners of his mouth.] That where you learned the whole bow thing?

[He's not making fun, Clint. Srsly.]

[arches]

Yes, exactly. They've really stepped it from Swiss army knives in the last century.

<sub>( He rolls his eyes, and gives Steve a look. You know the one.

Then he just shrugs. )</sub>

I grew up in a circus. You learn some interesting tricks.

[usavatar]

...Really? [He doesn't seem to be lying - it's not the deadpan delivery of Clint's earlier sarcasm, so Steve doesn't think the latter part is a joke.] A circus. You're not pulling my leg.

[arches]

Really, really. _{( He says it dryly. He has mixed memories of his youth, but overall knows he wouldn't be who he is without those experiences. So he's not ashamed. )}

The Coney Island Circus is where "Hawkeye" made his first appearance.

[usavatar]

Lucky for us, I guess.

[He's well aware that he's parroting Clint's earlier statement. The more he thinks about it - about all of them, each one a broken piece of something that just fits when you put it all together - the more it seems fated, in some cruel and wonderful way.]

How on earth did you end up with SHIELD?

[arches]

<sub>( Clint sits up a little, trying to decide how much he wants to say. Nick Fury has had practice with rescuing and reusing broken things, he wants to quip. Or, maybe another reference Rogers won't get--he made me an offer I couldn't refuse.

Finally, Clint just runs his hands through his hair and offers Steve the simplest explanation. )</sub>

It was SHIELD, or death-row. I weighed my options.

[usavatar]

[Steve nods, not asking why Clint ended up where he did. It doesn't matter. What matters is what he's proven himself capable of and willing to do. He's a good man - as much as Banner, Thor, any of them.]

How did you and Agent Romanoff meet?

[arches]

That's more her story than mine.

<sub>( Which is, Clint thinks, a fair answer. Never mind that Natasha would tell Steve the opposite, if he ever asked her.

Natasha Romanoff, the Beautiful Spider--the only target Clint had ever missed. Now, years later, he can't quite remember what his state of mind had been when that arrow had missed the mark, when he'd extended a hand instead of a knife. And he doesn't know what she was thinking, either, when she took his hand, and they began an unbreakable partnership.

He smiles, now, at the memory. )</sub>

We come from similar backgrounds, though hers is about a hundred times more glamorous. She's the best there is, so that was going to make her either a target, or an asset. I asked her to be the latter before being the first got her killed.

[usavatar]

Best there is.

[Steve says it under his breath, smiling a little. Similar backgrounds. Reverse Clint and Natasha's positions and it's almost the way Steve met Peggy - except she was the best, and the one offering him a chance, along with Erskine.]

She saved the whole city today. She saved the world.

[arches]

<sub>( She saved me.

That's not a monumental thought in and of itself. After all, how many times has he wagered his life on this woman? More times that he could count. They had a policy, the two of them against the world. They made sure the other got home safe.

The thing of it was, today they'd gotten both. Saved the world, and both of them had come home safe. Clint liked this new state of affairs, more than he was willing to admit. )</sub>

That's Natasha for you. You can keep your shield, and Stark his armor, and Thor his... godliness. Natasha's got a brain, and conviction like no one else. No offense, but between you all, it's still her I want watching my back, the next time we do this.

[usavatar]

None taken. She's your partner.

[The next time. Steve resists the urge to confirm that Barton is on board, getting the feeling the other man would say something about nothing being guaranteed, just to be contrary. He's not the sort to accept being pushed into things well.]

The Avengers. [He twitches a smile at the portrait on the wall.] It's flashy enough to keep Stark happy, at least.

[arches]

Are you kidding? This is the guy who put his name on a ten-foot tall marquee outside a tower. Just wait, he's gonna be gunning for "Stark and the Avengers" before long.

_{( It was strange, including himself in that group. But not unpleasant. )}

[usavatar]

[That startles a real laugh out of Steve, which is something, given that his humor is usually as quiet as his temper.] No, more like 'Stark's Avengers', or 'The Avengers, brought to you by Tony Stark.'

[He shakes his head.] Howard had an ego. But never like that.

[Which is a profoundly unreal thing to say, even after aliens. Howard's son. Older than the father.] They're more alike than I thought at first, though.

[arches]

Probably more alike than Stark wants to admit, too.

_{( After all, who wanted to be told they were like their parents? )}

You must have been close. You and Old Man Stark.

[usavatar]

We were. [He's gotten used to the past tense, but he doesn't like it. It feels strange and uncomfortable and all-around wrong. It's too soon for Howard and Bucky and Peggy to be the past tense in his life, but he can't exactly say we are about someone who's been -

No, not thinking about that.] Me, Peggy, and Howard. They were the ones that kept us all in one piece in the field. Stark with R and D, obviously, Peggy with intel.

[arches]

Peggy. _{( He says the name like a question, considering. From what he knows of SHIELD's history, he has a feeling, but it also seems rude to just assume. )} The woman, in the pictures?

[usavatar]

[It's not that he's planning to deny it. He's busy reliving that last conversation yet again, playing their last promises back and hating everything that broke them, himself included. Steve knows he's being too quiet, knows it's lasting too long, and finally clears his throat and resettles against the couch just to fill the silence.]

Yes. Agent Margaret Carter.

[arches]

She's a legend.

_{( He says this without much inflection, but it's more than apparent the words are true. And he doesn't envy Steve his position, now, because if there's one thing Clint knows about it is attraction to spy ladies. He can't imagine what not being with her must be like. )}

I'm, ah, sorry. It must be hard, for you.