5 August 2015: Where In The World Was Clint Barton - option 4
Title: Where In The World Was Clint Barton - option 4
Author: Beriaearwen
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Avengers (movieverse)
Rating: Suitable for people over 13
Word count: 1117
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Mutant Enemy, etc. The Avengers movieverse belongs to Marvel, etc. All characters are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Where exactly was Clint Barton, aka “Hawkeye”, when the “Captain America: Winter Soldier” happened? Here is yet another option - don't worry, there are only two more after this - unless, of course, the muse strikes. ;-)
Searing pain.
A knife through the middle of his head.
It stole his breath - for a moment.
Unfortunately, this was not the first time he had awoken to such a sensation. In fact, he pondered, as the initial burning, if he could recover this quickly and think this clearly, he most definitely needed to re-evaluate his life choices.
As the pain in his head receded to manageable levels, he took stock of his body and almost groaned out loud. His muscle hurt. His joints hurt. Pretty much everything hurt, but nothing felt broken. He vaguely recalled this feeling from the last time he had fallen from one of his perches - years and years ago.
“Thank you, Amelia,” masculine voice said, disturbing his attempt to listen to his surroundings. “Now that he is awake, we should begin.
Clint's breath caught and he completely stilled for just a moment. He had spent too long in the hands of too many enemies not to know what would come next.
“Come, Mister Barton,” the voice said.
Clint heard something being placed on a table near him and the other man take a seat in, if he wasn't mistaken, a leather armchair. Twitching his fingers, he could feel the leather underneath him and realized he must be sitting in a similar chair. Taking a chance, he lifted his head and found himself face to face with a man about his own age with slightly graying hair. The face looking back at him was calm and completely closed off. The look in this man's eyes, though, was pure steel.
“Much better,” the man said. “Would you care for something to drink? I have tea coffee and water here, but we have a much wider variety if you would care for something else.
“Water,” he said, willing to play polite guest for a while, especially when he realized how dry his mouth and throat were.
“Here you are. I assure you, the bottle, cap and water inside are exactly as the manufacturer intended with nothing added.”
Clint nodded, regretted it and opened the still-sealed bottle. He took a few small sips - just enough to wet his mouth and give him some clue as to how his stomach would react.
“Now,” the other man continued, “there are a few questions that need to be answered, but, in the interest of fair play, I must inform you that your mission to spy on the SWC School was not only unsuccessful, but a very foolish attempt as well. I would tell you to go back to your masters with a very colorful, and serious, warning, but, it appears we must first determine which master you serve?”
“What?” Clint asked, not quite comprehending as his aching mind worked through the other man's speech.
A sigh escaped the other man as he took off his classes and began cleaning them with a purple silk handkerchief.
Seeing where his eyes were, the other man lifted the cloth and informed, “Something of a joke from the children, but it does do a marvelous job on my glasses.”
Clint could only vaguely nod, his brows drawn together in confusion.
“Seeing that it appears you are suffering from something of a headache, I will lay out a few facts for you, focusing on some more recent events. As we know, your name is Clint Barton, aka “Hawkeye”. You claim to be an agent of SHIELD. You were mind-controlled by the alien Loki, but managed to break his control and fight against him in the battle of New York, after which you returned to SHIELD. Upon your return, and after passing your mental evaluations, you and your partner - Natasha Romanov, aka Black Widow - were assigned to a short-term assignment in Estonia followed by a solo assignment for you in Manila. In that assignment, you were isolated for several weeks with only a dead-drop to your handler and no outside support. Upon the successful conclusion of that mission, you were assigned to observe and infiltrate our school. That rather poor choice of assignment, led to you having a bit of a fall when you were spotted. We were actually becoming quite worried you wouldn't wake up, but, perhaps it was for the best while your body was healed.”
Clint blinked a few times, feeling decidedly uncomfortable by how much this man knew of his life and his missions. While his mind raced over the possibilities of what this could mean, he couldn't help but ask, “Don't you mean while my body healed? Not was healed?”
“No,” came the short reply as the man lifted a teacup to his lips and sipped the liquid inside.
When no further explanation seemed to be coming, Clint asked the other likely question. “How long was I unconscious?”
“Ten days,” came the no-nonsense reply. “The healers were actually becoming quite concerned.” His eyes drilled into Clint, suddenly seeming harder, hotter and far to deadly for comfort. “The rest of us were concerned for a different reason.”
Clint had nothing more to say and his quips were failing him, so he waited in silence and sipped his water.
Eventually setting aside his teacup, the other man settled back in his chair and rested his hand casually on the arms. At least it looked casual to most. The way his hands were positioned would allow him to quickly act if he needed to. Clint knew this because it was how he sat.
“So, Mr. Barton, the question remains, who do you really work for? SHIELD or HYDRA?”
Clint choked on the water. “SHIELD!” he replied even as he gasped for breath, horrified that anyone would even think he would work for that many-headed snake.
The other man tilted his head slightly, evaluating the truthfulness of Clint's answer. After several seconds of close scrutiny, he slowly nodded and replied, “I believe you.” Rising from his chair, he continued, “Finish your water. There's an unopened bottle of pain reliever on the tea tray for you. When you're feeling a little more yourself, we will need to have another talk about future opportunities you have now that SHIELD is no more and has been proven to have been infiltrated to the highest levels by HYDRA.” He paused with his hand on the door knob. “Don't worry, your friends Black Widow and Captain America are quite safe, as is former director Nick Fury, despite what you may hear.”
Clint watched him open the door and leave, just barely heard the man muttering, “Don't know why everyone's so surprised by HYDRA being in SHIELD, even the sodding Watcher's Council knew that...”
End
Author: Beriaearwen
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Avengers (movieverse)
Rating: Suitable for people over 13
Word count: 1117
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Mutant Enemy, etc. The Avengers movieverse belongs to Marvel, etc. All characters are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Where exactly was Clint Barton, aka “Hawkeye”, when the “Captain America: Winter Soldier” happened? Here is yet another option - don't worry, there are only two more after this - unless, of course, the muse strikes. ;-)
Searing pain.
A knife through the middle of his head.
It stole his breath - for a moment.
Unfortunately, this was not the first time he had awoken to such a sensation. In fact, he pondered, as the initial burning, if he could recover this quickly and think this clearly, he most definitely needed to re-evaluate his life choices.
As the pain in his head receded to manageable levels, he took stock of his body and almost groaned out loud. His muscle hurt. His joints hurt. Pretty much everything hurt, but nothing felt broken. He vaguely recalled this feeling from the last time he had fallen from one of his perches - years and years ago.
“Thank you, Amelia,” masculine voice said, disturbing his attempt to listen to his surroundings. “Now that he is awake, we should begin.
Clint's breath caught and he completely stilled for just a moment. He had spent too long in the hands of too many enemies not to know what would come next.
“Come, Mister Barton,” the voice said.
Clint heard something being placed on a table near him and the other man take a seat in, if he wasn't mistaken, a leather armchair. Twitching his fingers, he could feel the leather underneath him and realized he must be sitting in a similar chair. Taking a chance, he lifted his head and found himself face to face with a man about his own age with slightly graying hair. The face looking back at him was calm and completely closed off. The look in this man's eyes, though, was pure steel.
“Much better,” the man said. “Would you care for something to drink? I have tea coffee and water here, but we have a much wider variety if you would care for something else.
“Water,” he said, willing to play polite guest for a while, especially when he realized how dry his mouth and throat were.
“Here you are. I assure you, the bottle, cap and water inside are exactly as the manufacturer intended with nothing added.”
Clint nodded, regretted it and opened the still-sealed bottle. He took a few small sips - just enough to wet his mouth and give him some clue as to how his stomach would react.
“Now,” the other man continued, “there are a few questions that need to be answered, but, in the interest of fair play, I must inform you that your mission to spy on the SWC School was not only unsuccessful, but a very foolish attempt as well. I would tell you to go back to your masters with a very colorful, and serious, warning, but, it appears we must first determine which master you serve?”
“What?” Clint asked, not quite comprehending as his aching mind worked through the other man's speech.
A sigh escaped the other man as he took off his classes and began cleaning them with a purple silk handkerchief.
Seeing where his eyes were, the other man lifted the cloth and informed, “Something of a joke from the children, but it does do a marvelous job on my glasses.”
Clint could only vaguely nod, his brows drawn together in confusion.
“Seeing that it appears you are suffering from something of a headache, I will lay out a few facts for you, focusing on some more recent events. As we know, your name is Clint Barton, aka “Hawkeye”. You claim to be an agent of SHIELD. You were mind-controlled by the alien Loki, but managed to break his control and fight against him in the battle of New York, after which you returned to SHIELD. Upon your return, and after passing your mental evaluations, you and your partner - Natasha Romanov, aka Black Widow - were assigned to a short-term assignment in Estonia followed by a solo assignment for you in Manila. In that assignment, you were isolated for several weeks with only a dead-drop to your handler and no outside support. Upon the successful conclusion of that mission, you were assigned to observe and infiltrate our school. That rather poor choice of assignment, led to you having a bit of a fall when you were spotted. We were actually becoming quite worried you wouldn't wake up, but, perhaps it was for the best while your body was healed.”
Clint blinked a few times, feeling decidedly uncomfortable by how much this man knew of his life and his missions. While his mind raced over the possibilities of what this could mean, he couldn't help but ask, “Don't you mean while my body healed? Not was healed?”
“No,” came the short reply as the man lifted a teacup to his lips and sipped the liquid inside.
When no further explanation seemed to be coming, Clint asked the other likely question. “How long was I unconscious?”
“Ten days,” came the no-nonsense reply. “The healers were actually becoming quite concerned.” His eyes drilled into Clint, suddenly seeming harder, hotter and far to deadly for comfort. “The rest of us were concerned for a different reason.”
Clint had nothing more to say and his quips were failing him, so he waited in silence and sipped his water.
Eventually setting aside his teacup, the other man settled back in his chair and rested his hand casually on the arms. At least it looked casual to most. The way his hands were positioned would allow him to quickly act if he needed to. Clint knew this because it was how he sat.
“So, Mr. Barton, the question remains, who do you really work for? SHIELD or HYDRA?”
Clint choked on the water. “SHIELD!” he replied even as he gasped for breath, horrified that anyone would even think he would work for that many-headed snake.
The other man tilted his head slightly, evaluating the truthfulness of Clint's answer. After several seconds of close scrutiny, he slowly nodded and replied, “I believe you.” Rising from his chair, he continued, “Finish your water. There's an unopened bottle of pain reliever on the tea tray for you. When you're feeling a little more yourself, we will need to have another talk about future opportunities you have now that SHIELD is no more and has been proven to have been infiltrated to the highest levels by HYDRA.” He paused with his hand on the door knob. “Don't worry, your friends Black Widow and Captain America are quite safe, as is former director Nick Fury, despite what you may hear.”
Clint watched him open the door and leave, just barely heard the man muttering, “Don't know why everyone's so surprised by HYDRA being in SHIELD, even the sodding Watcher's Council knew that...”
End