23rd June 2012

Post reblogged from [Draw and Release] with 15 notes

An Old Friend

Fuck.”

There was a change in his demeanour that followed the curse, a slight way his heel skipped against the floor as he stopped dead in his tracks. The tendon in Clint’s jaw visibly flexed as he clenched his teeth. His eyes flittered to the room Rebecca was sleeping in. Eyes sharp and protective.

“Yeah,” Clint remarked bitterly. “I remember.”

How could he forget, his back was like a canvas that had been painted by Doom with scars that still gave him pain to this day years after the event. For what had felt like months of torture had really been a few weeks in some area of Budapest. Clint recalled having his fingers bent backwards until they dislocated, the cuts that nearly broke him, the way he just kept laughing at them even when he was nearly throwing up blood. 

Cracking the knuckles of his hands he stared right at Natasha. “I have a quinjet here, two agents. If I send..” he frowned.

Bruce would be a really valuable asset right now thanks to the other guy, but at the same time Clint felt fiercely protective of him and didn’t want him in this kind of firing line. This was personal on so many levels for Clint, and with Natasha by his side they had a vendetta to take care of. Fate of the world to a degree, too. Just another day at the office. 

Carefully collecting himself, the Hawk slipped into his tried and true mask. Game face on.

“I’ll organise to get them out of here. We’ll set a rendezvous point and work from there. I assume you’ve got another quinjet close by — debrief me then, I want to know everything that’s happened.”

Clint reached out, knuckles ghosting against her cheek with a faint smile. They could do this. Time to face fears. Doom had been totally off the radar after Budapest and now they had their chance. 

She gave him a ghost of a smile. “I can take care of myself for tonight. You get everything here taken care of.” She stepped back, slipping back into her mask of indifference.

“On the edge of town, they were planning on building a bathhouse. It would have been quite luxurious and beautiful. Unfortunately, they ran out of money before they could complete it. A new company has since bought the property, and they are planning on demolishing the structure early next week. I’ll meet you there at sundown tomorrow. My quinjet will be outside. From there we can determine what our next move should be.”

She tucked a loose strand behind her ear, and glanced once more at Becca’s sleeping figure. This little girl had finally gotten what all orphans dream of, a dream that for her had never been realized.

She strode toward the door, pausing momentarily at Clint’s side. She placed her hand gently on his arm. “It’s good to see you happy, Clint.” She squeezed gently, and opened the door, disappearing silently into the gathering dusk.

Tagged: hawkuponthewatchtowerSo sorry this took forever!Things are a movin!

Source: raisedinbattle

19th June 2012

Post reblogged from [Draw and Release] with 15 notes

An Old Friend

The knock had been expected. 

For the better part of a week and a half he’d been holed up in Bangkok with Bruce, and now Rebecca. Barton had flown in with a two man crew on the quinjet, and while he was their superior in this mission he’d be surprised if they hadn’t called him in for insubordination. And as good as he was at lying there was only so many times he could fend off their questions. The orders had been clearly stated by Hill and Fury: as soon as Banner was found, he was to be brought back home. Not set up camp in the rickety place Bruce had been calling home since he’d arrived and wait things out. 

It’d been good though — an impromptu vacation of sorts, a rekindling and mending of his relationship. Only further strengthened by the fact they were going to take home a kid. It was going to be a lot of paperwork, a lot of loops to jump and people to satisfy, but Bruce was right they couldn’t just leave her. Bruce was enamoured, and Clint had become incredibly attached. It’d taken the airing of some more demons, hell Bruce and Clint both had ‘daddy issues’ in spades, but they’d agreed that they could do it. 

He amusedly thought that once they got out of here and back home that he should just finally ask Bruce to marry him. They’d survived everything thrown at them so far and come out on top, and now they had Rebecca. 

So, yes, of course he’d expected the knock. Analytical mind practically had counted down the days. Barton was ready to go home as it were, to settle in and adjust to this new change in his life - their lives. When he’d opened the door he expected his field crew, perhaps even Hill or Coulson coming to round up ‘the kids’. 

He did not expect Natasha Romanoff. He did not expect her to look like hell, either. 

“Tasha— jesus. Of course.”

Clint pulled her inside, closing the door swiftly but quietly. Already his senses were on edge. For his fellow assassin to have been sent as his pick up meant that trouble was on the horizon. Possibly already happening. She was bruised, looked sickly, and a viciously protective side of him was practically clawing away wanting to find out why. Natasha was like family, and while she was very much a big girl who could take care of herself, it didn’t push those feelings down.

Clint dragged his hand down his face, pacing. Clear and bright eyes locked on the woman in the house. It was tempting to call Bruce out to get him to look her over, but that could turn ugly. 

“I’m guessing this isn’t a casual sit’n’bitch like we normally have. What’s the sitrep?”

Her eyes followed his pacing, she most look worse than she thought she did, for him to react so strongly. With a sigh, she sat down in a rickety chair, and watched him pace for a little longer.

“Please stop that, Clint. Just, sit. Please.” She ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath. “A lot has changed since you left. Loki is no longer enemy number one. Doctor Doom has taken his place. He’s the leader of some kind of group, and they’ve attacked S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters. I can’t get a response from Fury, or anybody from that matter. They’ve launched an attack simultaneously on Stark Tower.” She paused, looking at Clint to gauge his reaction. She rubbed a hand gently over the bruises on her arm.


“We need you, Clint. No, I need you. Fury has had confidence in me while you’ve been gone, assuming that I can handle our missions alone. But it’s been…difficult without my eyes in the skies.”

Her eyes found the open door across from the kitchen, the dim glow of a night light shining out. She stood, padded silently to the door and looked in. A beautiful little girl was asleep on the bed; a stuffed hawk toy had fallen from her hands to the floor. She entered the room quietly, scooped the toy up in her hands, and tucked it into the little girl’s arms. “сладкий ангел мечты” she whispered, before backing out of the room.

“She’s beautiful, Clint. And she’s very lucky to have found you and Bruce. If only all of us orphans could have been so lucky.” She went silent, remembering her angry screams as the only father she had ever known had handed her away to be brainwashed and tortured. She snapped her attention back to the present. “She’s in danger here, Clint. You remember what Doom is capable of, don’t you?”

Tagged: hawkuponthewatchtowerI apologize in advance for my shitty Russian

Source: raisedinbattle

18th June 2012

Post with 15 notes

An Old Friend

Natasha stood outside of a simple house in Bangkok, her green eyes surveying the area.  Clucking her tongue gently, she shook her head.

“Clint, I expected better than this from you.” she murmured. Several people had already cased this house, and from her vantage point, she could pinpoint six different ways to break into the house. She adjusted her civilian clothes, noticing how loosely they hung on her body. She had lost weight since she had last worn them. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, noticing too late, the trail of purple bruises covering her wrists and arms. She rubbed a hand over her face. She probably looked like hell. She hadn’t slept in far too long, and she was certain that she had dark circles under her eyes. Sighing, she straightened her shoulders. She didn’t come bearing good news, and to be honest, she still wasn’t entirely comfortable around Clint’s boyfriend. The “Big Guy” made her on edge constantly around him, something she knew he picked up on. A part of her just wanted to leave and let him have this quiet life with Bruce, but she couldn’t do that to their daughter. They were in grave danger, no matter where they were. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

She dodged pedestrians and ignored the men trying to shove their wares into her hands. When one got a bit too aggressive, she sent him an icy glare that had him backpedaling across the street. She finally made her way to their front door. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. Clint opened the door, and she tried to give him a smile, but she knew it was pathetic at best.

“Got some time for an old friend?”

Tagged: hawkuponthewatchtowerI hope this is okay!

3rd June 2012

Photo reblogged from [Draw and Release] with 441 notes

Tagged: Come on ClintShake that asshawkuponthewatchtower

Source: squidbiscuit

2nd June 2012

Post reblogged from [Draw and Release] with 17 notes

hawkuponthewatchtower:

raisedinbattle:

hawkuponthewatchtower:

raisedinbattle started following you

“Tasha,” he greets cordially, quietly. A small smile ghosting the corner of his lips.

“Back from your last mission so soon?”

“Clint,” she replies, her voice even. She rolls her shoulders, her smile smile mirrors his.

“Piece of cake.”

“Wouldn’t’ve expected any less. You’ve a way with your work,” Clint chuckles, crossing his arms across his chest and taking the sight of her in. It was kind of second nature to look for injury, the pair of them a little too quiet when it’d come down to something like that. 

“No gifts from your trip?” It’s a teasing camaraderie, one that’s easy to fall into around his fellow assassin. Makes him feel a little less socially stunted.

Her smile widened slightly. She knew he was scanning her body, checking for injuries, because she was doing the same to him. Physically, he seemed fine, but it was what she couldn’t see that worried her. 

Falling into their familiar banter, she laughed. 

"Trust me, Barton. This was one trip you wouldn’t have enjoyed. But if you’re a good boy and hit all your targets in practice, I’ll get you something nice next time." 

Tagged: raisedinbattlehawkuponthewatchtowerCally you have no idea how excited I am about our babies lsdkfjsdlkfj

2nd June 2012

Post reblogged from [Draw and Release] with 17 notes

hawkuponthewatchtower:

raisedinbattle started following you

“Tasha,” he greets cordially, quietly. A small smile ghosting the corner of his lips.

“Back from your last mission so soon?”

"Clint," she replies, her voice even. She rolls her shoulders, her smile mirrors his.

"Piece of cake."

Tagged: replieshawkuponthewatchtower