Duyên || Clint Barton

018 || rage

•••

I couldn't stop shaking. Neither of us slept that night, still shaken to the core. I would cry every so often, an uncontrollable sob escaping my lips. Clint was just blank, staring at the ceiling with an unreadable expression. The only thing that stayed constant that night was our hands, intertwined and trembling, our sole anchors preventing us from floating away.

"Where do we go from here?"
I just shook my head, my forehead resting against his shoulder. I didn't have the energy to speak.
"They didn't deserve to die" he growled, his grip tightening, "they were innocent"
I raised my head to look at the continuous news feed playing over the TV, my eyes narrowing as they counted the dead.
"Oh my god"
Clint followed my eyeline, his eyes widening in shock.
"Not them too"
On the screen were the fallen Avengers. My eyes instantly locked on to the twins, another sob wracking my body. Clint pulled me even closer, his tears hitting the back of my neck as he fought to be strong.
"We can't stay here Grace - I cant -"
"I know"

We packed lightly, only taking one backpack each, knowing we wouldn't be needing much more. I made my way to Nat's room, taking the pistol holsters from her collection and strapping them to my thighs before slipping my guns in. As I didn't necessarily have a suit I was just in all black, not that I cared what I looked like in that particular moment. Clint joined me, extracting three blades from the drawer, passing one the shorter one to me.
"I can't use the bow" he said plainly, answering my question before I could open my mouth to ask. I simply nodded, the image of him teaching Lila crossing my vision.

We left the house, hotdogs still sat abandoned on the picnic bench, climbing into our truck in silence. A lone tear fell down my cheek as I watched the farm fade into the distance.

"Where are you going?"
"The compound"
"What - why?"
"I'm dropping you off there, to be with Nat"
"I think the fuck not" I scoffed, looking at him incredulously, "I'm coming with you"
"Grace, this is going to be dangerous-"
"Exactly! You're not going without me-"
"I CANT LOSE YOU TOO" he bellowed, making me shift backwards slightly in my seat.
"By doing this you will lose me" I said flatly, "leaving me behind is not what I need right now. I need to be with my husband, and I need to be avenging my kids with him"
Clint smacked his forehead on the steering wheel, pulling to a stop.
"I. Don't. Want. You. Getting. Hurt" he all-but whispered, his voice cracking slightly.
"I can handle myself, but if you leave me alone right now Clint I'm not going to be okay. That I know for a fact" I frowned.

•••

We had pulled over for the night at a motel in Chicago, our exhausted bodies falling to sleep the second we hit the pillow, arms still holding eachother.
We didn't speak, an almost unacknowledged vow of silence settling between the two of us. It was just too much.
'I can't just sit here' Clint signed, shoving his laptop into my arms. On it was files pertaining to local gangs, most of which had the majority of members still alive. I just nodded, understanding him straight away.

We had been watching the first gang, or what was left of it, for roughly two days to learn their schedule. We wanted it to be quick and quiet, but definitely not painless. We slashed through the men in less than half an hour, leaving without a single injury, but doused in blood. Enemy blood.
Everyone seemed to be an enemy now, especially now that the permanent rage seemed to have set into my blood, erasing my happy self. I noticed the immediate changes in Clint too, his face now constantly stoic and cold, features set as a frown. He seemed more affectionate if possible, however the touches were rough and territorial, almost protective. It felt as if he was convinced I would disappear at any moment, which was still a fear for both of us. Whoever had done this once could easily do it again.

Nothing was certain, and a world without certainty bred chaos.