"YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT YOU KIDNAPPED ME TO FIGHT WITH CAPTAIN AMERICA AGAINST IRON MAN? NO WAY."
In which Alison Marnell deals with the casual life of a superhero while also trying to balance homework, tests, and the regular plights of high school...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"What kind of kidnapper are you? You skipped the entire 'get in my vans kids!' part of the kidnapping."
Clint's Van, Unknown Location, April 2016-
"Let me get this straight." Wanda looked over at Clint, her expression unmoving. Her voice seemed almost irritated, and her hand was resting on the windowsill of the van, watching the New York scenery slowly roll by. "You found her drunk, saw her crash a car into a pole, and then punched her into the face after losing your patience."
Clint shrugged, his eyes staring at the skyline in front of him, the night sky still disguising the van and the people inside. "It sounds a whole lot worse when you say it like that, but yeah, that's about right." The signs passed by the man, telling them that they were leaving the state of New York, and passing over into New Jersey.
Wanda sighed, shaking her head in a way that could only be described as exasperated. "You, Clint Barton, truly are the worst example sometimes." Her eyes looked back at the row of seats behind her, a passed out Alison lying across the two seats. She looked absolutely peaceful, but Wanda could only assume that when the girl woke up with two Avengers in some pretty weirdly water dried clothes and a pounding headache, she would not be so peaceful.
Clint gave a halfhearted look in Wanda's direction, almost offering her a roll of his eyes. "Yeah, well don't ever tell my kids that. They would be heartbroken to find out that their dad isn't the perfect role model that they know and love." Tapping the driving wheel impatiently, Clint awkwardly drove through the silence. He didn't know what to ask Wanda, or if he even wanted to talk.
After all, she would probably ask more about Alison, and he did not want to go into that predicament. That story was a mess in itself, and it was a lengthy story at that. Clint reached out his right hand to turn on the radio, turning the volume dial up. The soft murmurs of classic 80's music echoed through the van, causing Clint to nod in satisfaction.
In Clint's opinion, reliving the 80's with some classic music always solved the problems in life. Or, at the very least, made them go away until one actually had to consider what they were doing. Listening to the vocals of Michael Jackson, Clint let himself relax as he drove off towards the location of the next person on his list, one man that could grow smaller than the size of a- well ant.
A few hours later, Clint pulled up in front of a suburban neighborhood. He had no clue who this person was, or where this small town even was. All he knew was that Sam had sent him a file, with a plea to grab Wanda and come to Cap's assistance. Clint, of course, didn't say no. It gave him an excuse to "come out of retirement," check in on Alison, who was now in the back of the van, hungover (thank goodness he had found her), and grab Wanda from the weird space robot that was almost considered the child of Tony, Bruce, and Thor.
"This is the place?" Wanda asked, slamming her car door quite loudly, causing Clint to turn around from his place at the doorstep. It was rather early in the day, it being at least 6 in the morning. "Cause it does not look like a place in which a superhero would hide out." Her arms were crossed in her dark grey cardigan, a tired and unamused look on her face. She clearly hadn't gotten a lot of sleep, and it was taking a toll on her mood.
