Avenge the Fallen (Avengers Fan Fiction #2)

Chapter 3

It only took us three days to reach the desert by car. Steve hotwired it, and after half an hour of arguing, he was still adamant on returning it to its rightful owner. He wrote the address the people lived in on a piece of paper, saying thanks for letting us borrow it, and left it in a gas station parking lot in the middle of the night. Nat shook her head and continued on from there. Clint had spotted an old house, so we broke in the boarded up door and claimed it as safety for the night. Steve and Natasha slumped down into a corner of the living room. Without air circulation, the house was hotter than the atmosphere outside.

If only I had obtained Iceman's powers when I had the chance. Damn me and my moral high ground on not obtaining any more powers. If anyone managed to brainwash me like the Black Widows...it'd be over. What exactly? Not sure. It would depend on who was doing the controlling. All I know is it wouldn't be good. 

I glanced at Natasha, who laid her head on Clint's lap as she stretched out on the ground. Barton and Romanoff...strange. I didn't even know something very important about the people I called friends. "What are your stories? Like..." I paused, contemplating on how to word it. "How did your guys' stories start? How did you become who you are today?"

Natasha winced and looked away, a blank expression taking over her features. Barton noticed and set his hand on her arm. Her reaction gave him a reason to respond first. "I'll, uh, I'll go first then. My..." Clint knit his eyebrows together for a split second, recalling the memories flooding into his mind. "Harold Barton was a tough son of a bitch. He drank and beat my brother and I countless times. And one day, his alcohol addiction went too far. He got into an accident while my mother was in the car, killing them both."

"I didn't know you had a brother," Steve spoke up softly, joining in on the conversation. His eyes were full of pain as he listened to more of the story.

Clint nodded. "Bernard. His name was Bernard...We were put into countless foster homes. One day, we just got tired of it and ran away. We were just kids; we didn't know what to do or how to get food. We saw the Carson Carnival of Traveling Wonders was in town and decided to join it."

"You?" I snorted, "Clint Barton joined the carnival, and I'm just hearing about this now?"

He pushed my arm playfully. He could sense the dozens of jokes clouding my mind, just waiting to come out. "Yes, now will you shhh? I'm telling a story here," he hushed me and continued.

"I was trained by two guys that went by the names Swordsman and Trickshot. I was entering the tent to retrieve something for the event and I caught the Swordsman stealing from the money stash. He offered to give me some of the pay if I became his partner. We got into a heated argument. Worse came to worse and I fell off of the high wire. He left me there to die...I told Bernard about what had happened, and he had the audacity to yell at me for not taking the deal. He abandoned me too..."

Clint seemed to be lost in his memories now, his eyes wandering about as if the events were unfolding right in front of him. "Trickshot took me under his wing and convinced me to go after this criminal named Marko. I went and nearly killed one of his guards." He sighed and waited a second. He flexed his fingers and resisted from getting angry. He closed his eyes as he spoke with wholehearted pain in his voice, "It was my brother. I severely wounded my own brother...the one that taught me self-defense...the one that was there for me when we were little..."

All of us sat in stunned silence. Natasha set her hand on his and ran her index finger in a circle against his skin. She knew the story already. I bet the first time she heard it, she had the same reaction we were having. I was speechless. Steve's features morphed into a grim look.

Barton opened his eyes to look at Nat and continued, "Then S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited me. Saw my knack for archery and thought 'Hey, this guy's pretty cool'."