Don't give up on us

Chapter 4

The apartment is small and cluttered with empty beer bottles and cigarettes. A young boy sits at the old kitchen table, his head in his hands. Clint takes an involuntary step backward, recognizing the sandy blood hair and the small cut along his cheekbone. The young Clint Barton looks up, fear in his greenish blue eyes, staring right where Clint stands but he doesn't appear to see him. A door opens then slammed followed by a bottle breaking.
"Clintttttt......." A slurred voice comes from behind Clint and he turns to see a man who appears to be heavily drunk. He has some of the same features that Clint has. He stumbles forward and vomits then wipes his mouth. Clint stares at the memory of his father with utter hate and a little fear even though he can't hurt him. He hasn't thought about this day in years, having pushed it to the back of his mind, never to see the light of day again. The drunken male approaches the young Clint, a nasty smile on his ugly face. He raises his hand over the young boy's head and Clint turns around quickly. There's a large smack and a cry of pain and Clint closes his eyes. After a moment he opens them, only to find that he's in a different place.
The circus tent is quiet, for most of the performers have gone to sleep. He automatically knows what day this is and he swallows nervously. He's been with this circus for years ever since his parents died with his brother, the only family he has left. He became the famous Hawkeye, the greatest marksman alive. He was trained by the best of the best, Jacques Duquesne and Trickshot. He peers around the large tent and hears someone coming. 'Here we go' He thinks as Jacques walks in, carrying a large stack of money. The man grins greedily as he counts the money. All of the years that Clint was with the circus, he had no clue that they were stealing money from the audience. He glares at the back of his old instructor. A gasp comes from behind him and he turns to see a teenage staring at the swordsmen with large eyes.
"Whose money is that?" He asks quietly and Jacques smiles.
"Ours now."
"You...you stole it?" The young Clint asks in disbelief and the man nods. "How long have you been stealing money?"
"For years now. Clint, you could become rich if you join us! Think of the possibilities!" Jacques replies, his voice excited. Clint shakes his head.
"I can't do that. It's wrong." Jacques sighs.
"I was afraid you would say that." He frowns.
"I can't stay here." The young Clint looks at his instructor directly then turns to walk away.
"You're betraying the circus if you leave." The swordsman reminds him.
"I don't care." Without another word, he walks away, leaving his home behind. Jacques disappears and Clint waits for the next memory.
The Shield headquarters appears around him. A nervous yet serious Clint stands there with a younger Coulson, who talks to him as they walk down the long hallway. After a moment they stop walking.
"So this concludes the grand tour of Shield. Any questions?" Clint shakes his head and Coulson puts a hand on his shoulder.
"No matter what happened in the past, you are a Shield agent. You have the chance to redeem yourself. Don't blow it." Coulson looks at him with a small smile, making Clint's chest hurt. Coulson then walks away, leaving young Clint alone. He looks very nervous and Clint remembers what he was feeling that day. The desperate need for redemption. Little did he know that he would end up being a superhero. And that the world is going to end. Clint sighs at the last thought and the room starts to change again. Large buildings appear around him and he knows what's coming next.
Budapest.