Fic: Hawk eyes and wings to match
Title: Hawk eyes and wings to match
Fandom: Avengers
Characters/Pairings: Avengers, Clint/Natasha, Clint/Bruce, Clint/Tony
Rating: PG-13 (Language)
Warnings: Talk of torture, capture, experimentation.
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to anything Marvel, this is not for profit.
Summary: Written for a prompt on avengerkink “Clint is kidnapped, and despite their best efforts neither the Avengers nor SHEILD have been able to find him. Weeks go by before they get word on his location, and by the time they get there the bad guys had heard they were coming and run, leaving Clint behind. Clint, while a bit banged around, seems to be mostly fine physically - but has clearly been experimented on and doesn’t remember much of his time in captivity beyond injections and pain.”
A/N: Stand alone Winged!Clint story. Not associated with my other winged!Clint verse.
It was weeks before SHIELD finally admitted that Clint was MIA and not ‘undercover’ as the Avengers had been told three days after he’d been gone.
Tony had instantly stomped off to find a way to track him. Bruce had clenched his fist and left to calm himself. Steve had demanded to know why they hadn’t been informed earlier so they could have helped. Natasha had calmly punched the messenger in the face, one too many times. Steve ended up with a black eye from pulling her off the guy.
It took all of twenty minutes for Tony to find Clint’s location. Hulk showed up the instant they told Bruce they knew where he was. For once Steve agreed with Tony that, “Fuck SHIELD, we’re getting him back ourselves!”
Ironman lead the team into the compound. “He’s behind that door, big guy. We’ll sweep the rest of the building, in case,” Tony took off while the others scattered to sweep the building.
Hulk gripped either side of the door, fingers digging into the stone until he tore the door off. One look at Clint’s still form shackled to the table and Hulk was worried. Hawkeye was never still. Not unless he was in his nest, or up high and even then he was moving. Head turning toward a noise, eyes ever sweeping. Never this still.
“Cupid,” Hulk mumbled, tilting the still archer’s chin up gently.
“Jade Jaws… What took ya’ so long?”
Hulk grunted and sighed, “One eye no tell Hulk Cupid taken!”
Clint gave a pained grin and turned toward the tubing attached to his arm. “Could you get this out? It burns this time.”
Hulk growled at the tube, glaring over at the bag it was attached to. He just wanted to rip it out but he wasn’t Banner, he didn’t know if that would hurt Clint or not. “Banner help Cupid.”
Clint smirked when Bruce stood next to him in record time. “Hey Doc, mind giving me a hand here?”
Bruce stumbled to get the IV out without causing damage then fumbled to figure out how to get the shackles off. Hulk took care of them before leaving Bruce dizzy from two transformations and trying to carefully help Clint up. “What do you remember?”
“Tests. Blood draws, injections.” Clint winced and grabbed his arm where the IV had been when it started bleeding. “Uh, Doc, I think I sprang a leak,” Bruce just fussed over getting his arm wrapped before stumbling to help Clint to his feet.
“Can you walk or do I need to get the Other Guy to carry you?”
“If you don’t mind helping me out, I think I can walk.”
-
Tony took it upon himself to personally tell the SHIELD Agents that had shown up to, “Fuck off, he’s ours!” Bruce’s glare discouraged anyone from getting near them, though Steve and Natasha did help get Clint into the jet to take them home.
A few moments after the take off, Clint went still between Bruce and Natasha, using Bruce’s shoulder as a pillow. The scientist gulped when he felt the roaring in the back of his head, ‘Cupid too still,’ before reaching out to press fingers against the pulse point. ‘Sleeping, he’s just sleeping. He’s okay.’ It didn’t stop the beast from pacing and making Bruce touch the younger man every few minutes to be sure that he was still just asleep.
Steve too, one look at the twin glares from Tony and Bruce and decided it would be best if he played guard while they fussed over the archer.
“I’m okay, just really hungry and kinda thirsty. Could you get me some-” Bruce was already handing him water while Tony stomped off to find something edible in the helicarrier.
“You’re dehydrated and a little over oxygenated but other than that, you seem okay. Can you tell me what you remember?”
“Really, all they did was poke me with stuff. I was too out of it most of the time. IVs, I remember them changing them. They looked really annoyed when they did that… I guess whatever they wanted to happen didn’t, huh?”
“Guess not,” Bruce opted to just let Clint drink the required water rather than risk an IV. Not this close to what happened, it would probably cause more harm than good. “I need you to keep that on so the nurses stop trying to come in and make sure to drag the machine with you to the bathroom otherwise they might try to follow you.”
Clint rolled his eyes at the clip attached to his finger before downing the rest of his water, “Sure Doc, whatever you say.”
Bruce slipped out o the room to inform the others. “He seems fine. Until the blood tests come back, I’d say he’s okay. He’s a little over oxygenated but until we get back something worrisome I’m going to write that off as the result of a panic attack before we showed up.”
“Clint doesn’t have panic attacks,” Natasha mumbled.
“If you were captured that long, you know you would have had some sort of anxiety, don’t try to lie. You know I know when you’re lying,” Bruce smiled sadly while Natasha finally nodded.
“Dr. Banner, we have the results on the solution.”
Bruce grabbed the paper while the tech rushed off, obviously not wanting to be near him when he got the news. “Hormones? This is cocktail for hormone therapy. Why would they…” Bruce wondered away to order Clint’s level’s to be tested.
-
It took a week, and three escapes/searcher for Clint when he got bored of laying in a bed, before SHIELD officially released him from medical. Tony instantly grabbed the half dressed agent’s shoulder and drug him out rambling about a trip to Vegas and food and reprimanding him for leaving his ‘nest’ unattended for so long. Clint groaned when Tony informed him that the vent cleaners had dismantled it, “but don’t worry, you can rebuild it. Next time just make sure to tell me where it is!”
Clint just grumbled as Tony patted his shoulder and continued to drag him back home.
-
Clint never seemed to be alone, hell he was starting to suspect they’d follow him into the bathroom if they could come up with an excuse to. If it wasn’t Steve sitting nearby, acting as if he was oblivious to the archer’s present it was Tony circling while mumbling ideas to JARVIS or Natasha working on her stealth by nearly giving him a heart attack. Bruce took her place after the first time he noticed he jumped, probably not wanting him to have anymore issues with raised blood pressure.
It didn’t even stop when he went to sleep. Most nights, he’d start out alone in his bed but wake up to see Nat or Bruce lying next to him. Even Tony had once fallen asleep sitting against the headboard. Days later, when he found Steve propped up in the corner of his room he’d had enough.
“Would you guys stop watching me like a hawk? I’m FINE!”
“Clint, we still don’t know the effect of the drugs they gave you!”
“Other than earning me a 24 hour surveillance and wanting to sleep 20 of those, I’ve had no problems!”
“You’ve got a catch in both your shoulders, you wince when you draw and I haven’t seen you at the range in 3 days. Something is obviously wrong,” Natasha stated as she grabbed his shoulder for emphasis.
Clint dropped to his knee as if she’d crushed his spine. “Tash, let up! Fuck!”
Bruce stepped forward, eyes green, before Natasha grabbed his shoulder with the same force, making Hulk fade in confusion. “Clint, she’s barely touching you.”
“The fuck she is,” Clint waved Natasha off as he clutched at his throbbing shoulder.
“IT shouldn’t hurt, it wasn’t even a pinch.” Bruce gently touched the other shoulder, earning a wince. “How long has this been going on?”
“Three days after you guys found me… I thought it was just sore muscles from them manhandling me, now I’m not so sure.”
Bruce pressed across his shoulder blade hard enough that Clint actually whimpered, wincing himself in the process, “I want you to get x-rays. That feels like a solid mass…”
“Oh great…” Clint grumbled, “More tests.”
-
Clint stayed sprawled out on the table long after the x-rays were finished, earning a concerned look from Natasha. “Do you need help getting onto your back?”
“No, this is more comfortable,” Clint mumbled against the table, making Natasha worry even more. “How bad does it look?”
Natasha winced, “Your shoulder blades are swollen and Bruce has already mentioned getting a sample of fluid… He thinks they implanted you with something.”
“But, they never cut me open. They didn’t even torture me for information! They just kept sticking me with stuff or drugging me.”
“Yeah, I told him all the notable scars are old and there weren’t any new wounds on your back.”
“So, they find something on the x-ray?”
“Yeah, whatever they are, they’re causing the swelling. Your body is trying to attack the foreign body. It’s why your back hurts so much.”
“So? Break out the scalpel and cut the damn things out! End of problem.”
“We just want to make sure that’s all that’s wrong before we go cutting you open.”
Clint chuckled, it’s not like they hadn’t done worse with less info. “Remember Hong Kong? We thought I had appendicitis and once we got the knife in we found out it was just an old bullet leeching metal?”
Natasha smirked and nodded, “It’s a good thing too…”
“Yeah, no offence Tash, but you’re not the best field doctor.”
Natasha shook her head, “Bruce wants to pull a sample of fluid before they even discuss surgery.”
“When’s that happening?”
“Right now, hold still Clint,” Bruce’s voice made him jump before Natasha set a hand on his arm.
Ow, fuck! Can I get pain killers first?”
“It’ll throw off the panel,” Bruce stated as he pressed the needle as deep as he could into the swollen area at Clint’s right shoulder. Clint flinched hard, cursing when the needle stopped. “I hit something?”
“No shit Doc! Fuck that hurts! Are you trying to paralyze me?!”
“I’m nowhere near your spine. Wait, you actually feel that?”
Clint whined as Bruce shifted the needle, biting his lip when it felt to be scraping across bone. “Fuck, yes! I feel that! Stop it!”
Bruce stepped back when it looked like muscles were jumping under the needle, barely remembering to grab a sample of fluid before retracting the needle.
“Damnit Bruce, you caused a cramp,” Clint grumbled as he tried to get his shoulders to relax without touching them.
“Sorry,” Bruce winced as he tried to figure out a way to help without hurting him.
“It’s alright, it’ll go away,” Clint grumbled and tried to get comfortable.
-
Even thought the tests came back clean, they decided to at least drain the ‘cyst’ (for lack of a better term) while Clint was on his down time. Bruce just shrugging off the odd objects from the x-rays as shrapnel of some kind or other that had either converged or an implant of some sort from a previous injury.
“I don’t wanna be put under,” was the only request. Demand, pleading even, was a better term but Bruce looked down at those eyes when his arm was grabbed during prep.
“Okay, we won’t put you under.”
Between the request to be kept awake and the demand that Bruce be in charge, here they were. Clint sprawled on his stomach, half naked and Bruce completely covered and waiting for the nurses to get over their trepidation of being in the small OR with him of all people.
Hell, the only reason Fury had wrote off on it was because Clint had argued that it was just a draining, how bad could it be? And with all the disease and hygiene issues in the areas Bruce had frequented in, he could probably do it with his eyes closed!
Fury had taken one look at the two large patches of swollen skin, now covering his entire shoulder blades, and demanded a sterile OR instead of Stark’s lab (which had been Clint’s first choice). Everyong got what they wanted and Clint could finally lay on his back after nearly a month!
It had taken all of three words in that demanding, deadpan, doctor’s voice of Bruce’s for the others to finally snap to it and forget their fears. Clint sighed as the first but finally released the pressure that had been building across his back.
Bruce expected shrapnel, hell even an implement left over from a previous surgery, what he didn’t expect to see once the field was clear was feathers. Gold/Brown, damp, shimmering… feathers.
Blinking at the nearby nurse, he raised a hand to retrieve a larger scalpel and expended the cut. More feathers showed as the skin parted. “Clint, how are you feeling?” Cold, indifferent, he glanced at the archer tapping his fingers against the table.
“Fine, the pressure’s gone. Why? Something wrong?”
Bruce gulped as a gloved hand slid over the exposed feathers before reaching to peel the skin away until he could finally lift the rest out of the wound. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” Bruce’s tone wavered just enough to tip Clint off that something was wrong but he trusted him enough to either deal with it or tell him if it’s life threatening. Too bad Bruce was clueless as to what to do when he lifted and stretched the feathered appendage until he held up nearly 3 foot worth of wind for the stunned nursed to see.
Clint jumped when something clattered to the floor, one of the nurses had fainted. “Hey, she okay?”
“Yes, she’ll be fine,” Bruce stated as he shooed the other nurse to take her out of the room. “I’ve still got the other side. Just stay still.”
“Sue thing, Doc,” Clint settled in.
Bruce took a deep breath and lowered the wing down until it was folded against Clint’s back before moving onto the other side. The archer seemed completely oblivious of it. It only shifted when he moved but otherwise completely oblivious.
-
Bruce had decided Natasha may be best to tell Clint the news. He kept the archer covered after suturing the cuts closed, being sure to let the new limbs be able to move without reopening them.
Natasha stepped into the recovery room and her eyes actually widened before she shot Bruce a questioning look. He could only shrug and signal her to go on.
Now that the procedure was over, Clint had finally let himself rest. The click of a hell is what woke him back up. “Nat? How’s it looking?”
“Clint…” Natasha’s hand wavered when she lifted it toward his shoulder, stopping herself when she realized she was reaching toward the golden highlighted feathers. “Not bad…”
“I sense a ‘but’.”
“Bruce found out what was causing the pain.”
“Oh? What’d he find?”
“Well… no one is going to ask questions about your codename anymore.”
Clint blinked at her, moving to lift himself onto his hands. Natasha never cracked jokes, at least not like that.
Natasha gave a sad smile and reached out to help guide the feathered appendage into Clint’s view.
In retrospect, probably not the best course… Bruce ended up sedating Clint and needing to call in the others to help him get the man back in the bed. Natasha was now nursing a sprained wrist from the sudden burst of movement the wings gave at Clint’s sudden and explosive reaction. Bruce had bruises already showing across his arms from pinning them down while trying to give Clint the injection.
“Well, seems they’re not vestigial.”
“That could have gone better,” Natasha mumbled as she helped Bruce bandage a few pulled stitches.
“Ya think?”
-
Natasha was worried, which made Bruce nervous. Clint hadn’t been seen in nearly 3 days… Normally, because like it or not weird shit happens to agents, this wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. But given the circumstances. Bruce was getting nervous. Nervous didn’t bode well for him or anyone else. It made the Other Guy jumpy which made Bruce feel even worse.
When Natasha announced on day 4 that she couldn’t find Clint or his nest, Bruce panicked. Just enough that Natasha had to get Tony to talk him out of hyperventilating himself into the Other Guy.
JARVIS put an end to the mini-panic attack stating that Agent Barton was still in the building, though he was in transit so it would be pointless to give a location at the moment.
Natasha just grumbled, wishing for at least a visual but knowing not even Tony was paranoid enough to put cameras in every vent, and sending a bot to find him for a visual would sent up all sorts of red flags to him.
“Tell us the minute he settles where he is.”
“Of course, Sir.”
-
Bruce squirmed his way through the vent, occasionally banging an elbow or knee when he misjudged the distance mentally he was grumbling to himself about how stupid he was being but he knew if he had let Natasha go talk to the archer he would probably come back with bruises.
Though given his own anxiety level, that may have been a better choice than this. Bruce grunted when he had to twist to get his shoulders through a particularly narrow portion of the vents, suddenly wondering how Clint did it…
Bruce rolled his eyes when Clint ‘jumped’ at his sudden appearance. The archer had to know he was near just by the amount and proximity of curses echoing in the vents.
Clint was rambling to Bruce about tight spaces but he wasn’t listening, he was too busy watching those short, nearly all brown wings pulled tightly against the archer’s back as he shifted off his stomach to turn toward him.
“Any change?”
Clint groaned and looked away, his wings shifting restlessly as he sat up, “They still have a mind of their own…”
“Then how the hell did you get through that last bend?”
Clint chuckled and pointed to a different shaft, “It takes longer but it’s wider.” Bruce groaned, he knew he should have checked a schematic.
“Can we take that way back?” Clint chuckled and nodded as he climbed out of this nest to lead the way.
-
Clint had learned quickly that showers were mandatory. Not that he didn’t prefer them, je just would really love to be able to soak his tired and aching muscles. It seemed his wings didn’t like being submerged, they didn’t have any issues with water pouring over them but not soaking in it… Add to that the fact that Clint couldn’t lay back onto the annoying appendages and he wasn’t even able to properly fit in the tub. Talk about a bad day. Natasha had to help him the first time, Tony was jealous as hell. Clint had offered to trade him. Tony had taken one look at the shifting wings and declined, “I’ll stick with repulors, thanks,” and then rambled himself into a sore jaw trying to reassure Natasha it wasn’t because she wasn’t hot enough.
“Thanks Bruce,” Clint mumbled as Bruce helped him wash the ill-tempered wings.
“Don’t mention it, Tony might get jealous again,” Clint smirked, he swore the man was a mind reader sometimes.
“Tell him he gets to help next time.”
Clint felt the spasm, turning before his right wing shot out to break the glass door of the stall. “Fuck,” he clutched at his shoulder, feeling the pain radiating out as Bruce held him to keep from falling onto the glass or striking out again.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Bruce was mumbling into his shoulder as he smoothed the ruffled feathers.
“Dr. Banner, is everything alright?”
“Yeah, just an accident. No one’s injured,” Bruce called to JARVIS as a surveyed the damage. It looked like it might be a little difficult to get out of the stall without cutting their feet. “Could you tell Natasha there’s glass on the floor? I’m going to need some help clearing a path…”
“Of course,” was the response as they stood there, shivering, waiting for backup.
“Damn things, always causing trouble.”
“Welcome to my world,” Bruce chuckled as he carefully pushed a piece of glass away from his foot.
“Maybe I should just cut the damn things off,” Clint grumbled as they flapped a bit, slamming into the too close walls before settling to their soft shifting.
“Clint, you’re frustrated, you’re still getting use to them. Don’t do anything rash.”
“Why not?! They won’t respond to anything I try to do. They’re useless, correction, they throw me off balance, they never stay still, they’re nothing but a pain. I’ve got more sore muscles because of them than I ever had in the circus and that’s saying something!” Clint sighed as Natasha finally showed up to help clear a path, “And they’re too small to even work! They’re a liability, why shouldn’t I get rid of them?”
Natasha had reached out, moving a hand over the spasming wings, soothing the feathers and causing Clint’s anger to fade in a soft sigh. “You’ll get use to them,” she said as he leaned closer to her as she kept grooming the now calm wings. “Give them a chance.”
He honestly didn’t know why he did…
-
The first time the Avengers had been needed, Clint had been ordered to sit it out. He ended up sprawled on the couch, glaring at the tv with a beer and popcorn, JARVIS agreeing -most of the time- when he started yelling and throwing popcorn at the footage as if it was a football game.
“Stupid! Watch you six! Your six! Cap, turn the fuck around!” Clint smirked when Hulk landed on the bot about to blast Steve, “Thank you!” He threw his hands up and sighed. “I should be out there!”
JARVIS’ response, held a tone of laughter as he reminded Clint why he wasn’t one moment and agreeing the next.
Once it was all over, Clint was surprised to see Hulk stomp into the room. “Uh, hey Big Green, what’s up?”
“Cupid okay?”
Clint blinked, “Yeah, I’m fine, why?”
Hulk reached out at the now flared wings and gently ran a finger down them. “Cupid different…” Clint’s wings jumped as he shuddered and Hulk pulled his hand back, “Hulk hurt Cupid?”
“No, no, I’m okay. You just surprised me it doesn’t feel bad.”
Hulk smiled at Clint’s smile before carefully petting over the wings again.
“Glad Cupid better.”
Clint really couldn’t come up with anything to say at that, so he just smiled.
-
Tony was laying on couch, flipping channels as he absently stroked one of the two splayed wings. Clint was happily sleeping on him.
“Tony, I need you to sign these,” Pepper blinked as Tony waved her over to grab the pen. Pepper sighed and held the papers out to be signed then walked away, “Still not the worst thing I’ve caught you doing…”
-
Clint was half awake as he repetitively stuffed spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth, half remembering to chew while gulping coffee. It took the second cup before he slammed a fist on the table. “What?!”
Steve jumped at the noise and averted his eyes, “Nothing…”
“Then why are you staring,” Clint demanded as Steve mumbled under breath. “What was that?”
“I thought only angels could have wings…”
Clint blinked, sighed then laughed as his flared wings folded back, “Steve, I’m nowhere near worthy of being called an angel…”
Steve just shrugged and poked at his breakfast. “It’s still just… new.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Clint mumbled as he shoved away his bowl.
-
Clint’s first time back in the field had been a bit of a fiasco… He tried to pin down his wings at first, they twitched and spasmed so hard trying to get free he had been forced to go without his vest and use a quiver half the size of his normal one so if set between them in a way that wouldn’t restrict them. Too bad he didn’t realize the damn things were determined to move into his way every time he went to grab an arrow until he was already in battle.
Ironman had saved his ass more times than he could count that day… He was glad for the backup, but he was also pissed off that he had needed it.
“Cupid,” Hulk bellowed once the fight was over, grabbing Clint in green arms and hugging him before setting him on his shoulder. “Shellhead keep Cupid safe!” Ironman got similar treatment, though Tony got dropped back to the ground while Clint smiled sadly from his perch. “No be sad,” Clint blinked when Hulk lifted his chin, his wings perked up. “Friends always help each other!”
Clint chuckled, “Yeah, you’re right.” He ended up nearly falling asleep when Hulk just petted his wings as they headed home.
-
“Alright, raise them up,” Bruce instructed as Clint furrowed his brows and shifted his shoulders, effectively making his wings lift. “You’re doing much better.”
“It’s still a hell of a back ache.”
Bruce shrugged and smirked, “You want to take away Tony’s change to give you wing rubs?”
Clint smiled and shook his head, “I can almost move them individually.”
Bruce’s eyes lit up, “Really? Can I see?”
Clint nodded and shifted his shoulders, feeling unused muscles in his back pulling as one wing lifted while the other one dropped lower. “I can’t spread them out all the way yet but it’s getting easier to move them without cramping.”
“You’ll get there,” Bruce was currently staring at the different muscles moving the two wings, fascinated by the unique muscle groups.
“Yeah… one step at a time, right?”
“Right,” Bruce smiled.
-
Epilogue
Clint’s wings flared out when it was his turn to get a hug from the happily returned demi-god. “Friend Clint! I thought it was just their eyes you were gifted with!” Clint grumbled to himself as he settled his wings once he was set back on his feet.
“It’s a long story,” Bruce explained as he patted Clint’s shoulder, smiling when the wings didn’t flail out a the sudden touch.
“Ah, perhaps a story better told over food and wine?” Thor boomed as he pulled them both and ushered them deeper into the Tower. “Must be a glorious tale of battle! I was unaware Midgardians were able to take on the aspects of animal spirits.”
“They can’t…” Clint mumbled.
“Then you are a valiant warrior indeed!”
Clint smirked as Tony offered him a drink, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to…”
“Nah, I’m okay, I think it’s time to talk now.”
Clint ended up staying at Tony’s side, relaxing into the absent wing petting while finally telling the whole story about the op going sideways and ending with, “Ya know, they’re not all bad… I think I’ll keep them.”