8 August 2015 - Where In The World Was Clint Barton - option 7
Title: Where In The World Was Clint Barton - option 7
Author: Beriaearwen
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Avengers (movieverse)
Rating: Suitable for people over 13
Word count: 1216
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: 8Winter Soldier” happened? Here is yet another option
Note: I was not expecting, nor had planned past 6 items in the series, but as much as I tried to work on other story ideas, this one would not leave me alone.
It was a rookie mistake and one he wouldn't have made even two years ago, but, as much as he lied to the powers that be at SHIELD, he knew he was still ever so slightly off his game, still suffering aftereffects of having Loki in his mind. Despite there having been nothing he could do to fight it, he couldn't help but view being taken over by Loki as a failure.
Nat suspected. The other spy knew him far too well, but then, he knew her as well. Things weren't all they seemed there either. With the advent of the Avengers, the world they lived in changed drastically an the shadows began to disappear. They both felt safer in the shadows than the spotlight even if Tony had proven it was possible to hide even under the most intense media scrutiny.
But, the fact remained, he had still slipped up and it had given away the cover he'd spent months establishing.
True, the thought of Captain America as a traitor to his country boggled the mind, but the information couldn't have come at a worse time.
Upon seeing his reaction, Brutus and Oswald quickly knocked him unconscious. He came to tied up and sitting in a chair.
As his eyes and mind focused, he almost let out a bitter laugh at the fact he had finally met the head of the gang and it was a demon. An actual, honet-to-God demon.
Of all the things he had expected, this had most definitely not been one of them.
It wasn't that demons were unknown at SHIELD, but they were not spoken of. The only thing he'd ever been told was that they fell under the pervue of another organization and it was best to never mention them. But his work at SHIELD was not his first experience with the supernatural side of life. That had begun in his days at with the circus. He'd been young enough to not realize there was anything unusual in meeting non-humans. It wasn't until he left the circus that he understood that most people denied the existence of demons as actual, physical entities.
Still. This wasn't good.
A soft sound off to the side drew his attention as a mystical portal opened up on one wall.
This was worse.
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
A groan escaped him as he rolled from his side to his back.
At least this time he hadn't been knocked unconscious and knew exactly what happened, but that certainly didn't help the aches in his bones and twitching of his muscles at traveling through the portal, his momentum assisted, of course, by Brutus and Oswald. Apparently they didn't like being lied to.
Who knew honor was so highly valued among demons.
He took a deep breath and started coughing at the sulfurous smell in the air. Shallow breathing would definitely be the key here.
“Hey, new guy,” a voice called.
Turning his head, he spotted a young man with brunet hair headed toward him. The man appeared to be wearing a kitchen apron and had a towel tossed over his shoulder. Clint tried to focus, but was certain he was looking through heat shimmers. That thought brought his attention to the ambient temperature which was definitely somewhere warmer than “sauna”.
“Yeah?” he called back, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position.
The stranger bent down and practically dragged him to his feet before draping Clints not-entirely-responsive arm around his shoulders. “I'm Xander, by the way. If you're still on the ground when they come in, well... Let's just say that you'll find out exactly why this dimension is a 'hell' dimension.”
“Can't have that,” Clint agreed, doing his best to move his feet while clenching and unclenching his hands. He gritted his teeth against the pain, but knew the fastest way to recover feeling was to use the muscles and nerves.
“So what did you do to end up here?” Xander asked.
“Clint,” the archer gritted out. “Name's Clint. Was undercover and got caught out when I saw that some friends got in trouble. You?”
“I was helping my friends avert an apocalypse and got too close the portal,” Xander admitted sheepishly. “I know they'll come get me, but I'm not sure about the time differential.”
“Time differential?” Clint asked, taking his weight onto his own legs and biting back a groan as the pins and needles feeling intensified.
“Sure. Time runs differently in different dimensions. Hell dimensions in general seem to run faster than ours. Some are 300 years to a month, some are 60 years to day, some may be faster, some slower. From what I understood, this one should be pretty close to our timing, but I'm not one-hundred percent sure.” Xander paused and seem to think that over for a few minutes before continuing, “That is, of course, if we're from the same dimension to start with.”
Clint absorbed that information and thought through the implications, especially the part where they might be from different dimensions. “You have Captain America in your dimension?” he asked.
Xander grinned. “Sure do. He was thawed out of ice after being frozen and then fought in the battle of New York against some aliens called the Chitari or something.” Xander's eye narrowed at him. “Come to think of it, you look kind of familiar...”
Clint nodded. “I was there.” He saw the information click into place.
“Ah. Undercover assignment gone wrong?”
“Yep.”
“Well, let's get you situation at the station next to me,” Xander said. “Less likely to get in trouble if you're already working. Besides too much longer and I'll be too behind to catch up.” A shudder wracked the brunet's body and a haunted look entered his eye. “You don't want to fall behind here.”
Clint looked the other man over again. “How long have you been here?” he asked, his voice soft.
Xander met his gaze. “Too long. But any time here is too long. Three days so far,” he admitted as he reached his station and indicated for Clint to go to the next.
Looking at his station he blinked several times in puzzlement. “What?”
“Yeah. Who knew one of the worst jobs in hell would be the dish washing.”
Clint just blinked before glancing at the other man. Xander was already scrubbing a plate with noxious looking green something on it.
Eyes turning to his own station, he realized that his own stack of dishes, pots and glasses was no better.
Then the smell hit.
Swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat, he picked up the sponge, grabbed the first plate and plunged it into the soapy water.
As he put the plate in the over-sized drying rack next to his station, he picked up another plate and nearly dropped it as a door banged open allowing in a waft of even hotter, more stench-filled air. With watering eyes, he turned to see what had happened.
Flames licked around the doorframe as a demon stood grinning wider than should be possible with his face. “Good evening, everyone. Welcome to Hell's Kitchen. Let's see how we're doing tonight, shall we?”
Clint silently prayed that Xander's friends would find them soon.
End
Author: Beriaearwen
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Avengers (movieverse)
Rating: Suitable for people over 13
Word count: 1216
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: 8Winter Soldier” happened? Here is yet another option
Note: I was not expecting, nor had planned past 6 items in the series, but as much as I tried to work on other story ideas, this one would not leave me alone.
It was a rookie mistake and one he wouldn't have made even two years ago, but, as much as he lied to the powers that be at SHIELD, he knew he was still ever so slightly off his game, still suffering aftereffects of having Loki in his mind. Despite there having been nothing he could do to fight it, he couldn't help but view being taken over by Loki as a failure.
Nat suspected. The other spy knew him far too well, but then, he knew her as well. Things weren't all they seemed there either. With the advent of the Avengers, the world they lived in changed drastically an the shadows began to disappear. They both felt safer in the shadows than the spotlight even if Tony had proven it was possible to hide even under the most intense media scrutiny.
But, the fact remained, he had still slipped up and it had given away the cover he'd spent months establishing.
True, the thought of Captain America as a traitor to his country boggled the mind, but the information couldn't have come at a worse time.
Upon seeing his reaction, Brutus and Oswald quickly knocked him unconscious. He came to tied up and sitting in a chair.
As his eyes and mind focused, he almost let out a bitter laugh at the fact he had finally met the head of the gang and it was a demon. An actual, honet-to-God demon.
Of all the things he had expected, this had most definitely not been one of them.
It wasn't that demons were unknown at SHIELD, but they were not spoken of. The only thing he'd ever been told was that they fell under the pervue of another organization and it was best to never mention them. But his work at SHIELD was not his first experience with the supernatural side of life. That had begun in his days at with the circus. He'd been young enough to not realize there was anything unusual in meeting non-humans. It wasn't until he left the circus that he understood that most people denied the existence of demons as actual, physical entities.
Still. This wasn't good.
A soft sound off to the side drew his attention as a mystical portal opened up on one wall.
This was worse.
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
A groan escaped him as he rolled from his side to his back.
At least this time he hadn't been knocked unconscious and knew exactly what happened, but that certainly didn't help the aches in his bones and twitching of his muscles at traveling through the portal, his momentum assisted, of course, by Brutus and Oswald. Apparently they didn't like being lied to.
Who knew honor was so highly valued among demons.
He took a deep breath and started coughing at the sulfurous smell in the air. Shallow breathing would definitely be the key here.
“Hey, new guy,” a voice called.
Turning his head, he spotted a young man with brunet hair headed toward him. The man appeared to be wearing a kitchen apron and had a towel tossed over his shoulder. Clint tried to focus, but was certain he was looking through heat shimmers. That thought brought his attention to the ambient temperature which was definitely somewhere warmer than “sauna”.
“Yeah?” he called back, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position.
The stranger bent down and practically dragged him to his feet before draping Clints not-entirely-responsive arm around his shoulders. “I'm Xander, by the way. If you're still on the ground when they come in, well... Let's just say that you'll find out exactly why this dimension is a 'hell' dimension.”
“Can't have that,” Clint agreed, doing his best to move his feet while clenching and unclenching his hands. He gritted his teeth against the pain, but knew the fastest way to recover feeling was to use the muscles and nerves.
“So what did you do to end up here?” Xander asked.
“Clint,” the archer gritted out. “Name's Clint. Was undercover and got caught out when I saw that some friends got in trouble. You?”
“I was helping my friends avert an apocalypse and got too close the portal,” Xander admitted sheepishly. “I know they'll come get me, but I'm not sure about the time differential.”
“Time differential?” Clint asked, taking his weight onto his own legs and biting back a groan as the pins and needles feeling intensified.
“Sure. Time runs differently in different dimensions. Hell dimensions in general seem to run faster than ours. Some are 300 years to a month, some are 60 years to day, some may be faster, some slower. From what I understood, this one should be pretty close to our timing, but I'm not one-hundred percent sure.” Xander paused and seem to think that over for a few minutes before continuing, “That is, of course, if we're from the same dimension to start with.”
Clint absorbed that information and thought through the implications, especially the part where they might be from different dimensions. “You have Captain America in your dimension?” he asked.
Xander grinned. “Sure do. He was thawed out of ice after being frozen and then fought in the battle of New York against some aliens called the Chitari or something.” Xander's eye narrowed at him. “Come to think of it, you look kind of familiar...”
Clint nodded. “I was there.” He saw the information click into place.
“Ah. Undercover assignment gone wrong?”
“Yep.”
“Well, let's get you situation at the station next to me,” Xander said. “Less likely to get in trouble if you're already working. Besides too much longer and I'll be too behind to catch up.” A shudder wracked the brunet's body and a haunted look entered his eye. “You don't want to fall behind here.”
Clint looked the other man over again. “How long have you been here?” he asked, his voice soft.
Xander met his gaze. “Too long. But any time here is too long. Three days so far,” he admitted as he reached his station and indicated for Clint to go to the next.
Looking at his station he blinked several times in puzzlement. “What?”
“Yeah. Who knew one of the worst jobs in hell would be the dish washing.”
Clint just blinked before glancing at the other man. Xander was already scrubbing a plate with noxious looking green something on it.
Eyes turning to his own station, he realized that his own stack of dishes, pots and glasses was no better.
Then the smell hit.
Swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat, he picked up the sponge, grabbed the first plate and plunged it into the soapy water.
As he put the plate in the over-sized drying rack next to his station, he picked up another plate and nearly dropped it as a door banged open allowing in a waft of even hotter, more stench-filled air. With watering eyes, he turned to see what had happened.
Flames licked around the doorframe as a demon stood grinning wider than should be possible with his face. “Good evening, everyone. Welcome to Hell's Kitchen. Let's see how we're doing tonight, shall we?”
Clint silently prayed that Xander's friends would find them soon.
End