Title: The significance of Coffee in the life of Clinton Francis Barton

Summary: The Avengers decided to give everyone a heart attack and disappear. Clint, ex-carnie/mercenary/SHIELD agent and Avenger-on-leave, goes on a killing spree.

Or: Clint is really not just a dumb carnie with a bow and arrows, Maria Hill is meticulous in her coffee preference, and James Barnes is just a lost angry puppy.

Notes: set after Captain America: The Winter Soldier; everybody knows Phil Coulson is alive and is the new Director of SHIELD; Maria Hill is mother-henning the Avengers. Clint for the most part has quit SHIELD, and is on a vacation leave (they wouldn't let him quit) from Avenging duties.

Tags include Team whump! for Chapter 2.

Warnings for: Description of violence, Slight-AU, Canon Divergence, not-AoU compliant, references to self-esteem issues, Unbeta-ed

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, except for the deliberate twists I gave to the plot.

I'm not cut out for this team, Fury and you know that.

Lucky's cold nose bops Clint's hand, tail wagging happily as a cold pizza sits prettily on his master's lap. Clint indulges with a lazy grin, large coffee pot in his hand, because Clint has never been contented in his life like this: waking up in the afternoon in his little farm house somewhere far from the bustle of New York and off-the map, having cold pizzas, a bunch of (crappy) TV show marathons to last through the day, and being as normal as any ex-assassin can be.

Life is mundane and plain, but at least he doesn't have to worry about things such as looking and feeling like a big bruise all the time.. For now. Clint can actually pretend he's now retired, and fuck if he sounds old; this sounds heaven. This is breath of fresh air. This is his life now.

He reaches for another slice of pizza, petting his one-eyed dog absently, when his phone rings. "Aww, phone, no."

He doesn't bother looking at the caller's ID so he's perpetually surprised when his cozy Friday afternoon is interrupted with a familiar voice, "Agent Bridges."

His mind takes a few moments for the gears to start clicking. He almost blurts out sorry, wrong number, but then Clint remembers.

"Coulson." I'm pretty sure I filed the resignation papers with the right information and readable scrawl why have I not thought about my other identities goddamnit.

The other man pauses. If he hadn't trusted Phil Coulson himself, he would have ended the call. But Carlisle Bridges has earned seven degrees in various fields, is SHIELD's Analyst, Tactical Operations Adviser who answers to Director Fury and no one else, and is a Level Eight agent. Bridges is the opposite of Clinton Francis Barton, ex-carnie and uneducated archer. Bridges is also professional, or so his supposed identity should be so even though Clint feels the beginnings of a headache forming at the back of his skull, he replies with a strictly professional tone. "Something I can help you with?"

He can imagine the former director doing his victory dance from whatever part of the world he is in, if he ever catches this conversation.

"Actually, there is. I need your hands on this, Agent. The Avengers have gone missing."

Oh, now Phil is just pulling his leg. He rolls his eyes heavily and replies in a smooth, barely restrained tone. "May I request the line be private?" He grits the words out between his teeth. If Phil is using his alias, then maybe shit is going down for real or he's just humoring him.

"You lost them." Clint repeats, just to make sure his aids didn't get the wrong words.

"Romanoff sent a distress call six hours ago traced back to the Tower. When we got there, Stark's A.I began firing at every SHIELD agent we sent there and we hadn't got inside since."

"And you didn't think Stark is pulling your leg again." He inhales the last bits of his coffee. He is not prepared for this- whatever this is.

"Oh, believe me. I would love for that man to come out and shout April Fools to my face so I could strangle him right now, instead I have me a video of a bloody clown cackling down a hall and an invitation to a hide-and-seek game." Oh, Phil must be really stressed out right now.

"Tony is not above that."

"Well, you got to hand it to the guy for pulling off really convincing effects."

His phone beeps with an incoming video Phil just sent him. Clint stares at it as he presses the play button. He sees through a really shaky camera like a drunk filmed it, a clown popping from the side of the screen and giggling what Clint can describe as creepy as fuck, which the camera focuses on as it saunters with a pipe on his hand and makes screeching noises with the walls and other things not visible in the dark.

Okay, that is creepy but-

But then he hears a distant, gut-tearing scream from somewhere and he knows that voice- or at least he recognizes it because it is Tony Stark's.

He sips the remains of the pot only to find out that he's already consumed it moments ago. Lucky barks, his sound muffled, but his cold nose startles Clint badly. He couldn't even have the heart to reprimand the dog for it.

"Barton." Coulson's voice snaps him back completely.

"You haven't got a location on them yet." Clint hears himself say. It's a cold, apathetic tone he's adapted when he's thisclose to losing it.

"We need your help." his former handler doesn't confirm, but it is enough.

Clint almost says but I'm just a guy with a bow and arrows, but it clogs his throat because he's not and Phil knows that so he eventually pulls himself back together. "Give me thi-"

Phil Coulson is a man who reads between the lines like second nature, and he is also a man who likes to plan three steps ahead for everything so his reply is short and concise. "Hill is already coming to get you."

And of course, Maria Hill, such a legendary woman, has excellent timing because Clint's door is already pushed open to reveal Hill herself, calm but a bit rumpled- not that anyone not close to her would notice.

Clint pockets his phone and bolts to get his weapon. He doesn't even bother with the clothes, Maria and her worked together in occasions, and Phil has known him as his handler for years: he knows they already got that covered.

He only wishes he had at least two more pots of coffee before he had to leave.

Clint changes his wardrobe at the backseat of the car with precise motion that meant he had done this already plenty of times and he certainly doesn't bother getting naked with Maria inside the car. Maria hands him a laptop without looking and Clint accepts it and began typing furiously. "Thanks, Maria."

Hill raises an eyebrow as if to humor him, "No problem, Agent Bridges." There's a terse silence for a moment until Clint playfully punches her in the shoulder and grumbles about how that was all Coulson's fault and Fury for being manipulative bastards whom he lost a bet to.

She tips her head back with a small smirk on her face and Clint pretends not to notice her glancing at him.

They arrive later at SHIELD HQ, Maria coming out first, and Clint carrying the laptop with him and making his way to Phil's office without being noticed by avoiding all possible cameras and human interaction.

Another taunting video is sent through an anonymous source traced back to the middle of South Pole. Clint works steadily with the keyboard the only noise in the room while the rest of the agents works on the large Operations Room next to his discreet, much smaller one where Maria Hill was also working on before he even arrived. It was really a nice coincidence that Hill was out of the Tower when it was attacked; she had gone with Pepper bonding over tea and spa. Somehow, Clint feels for her: she had the beginnings of a totally relaxing day only to be thrown into this chaos the next moment. Clint would like to whine about his day too, but he figures it really would just sound petty and childish.

Clint restores JARVIS two hours later.

Maria Hill, in her slight surprise, calls Phil to their room. She shouldn't have been surprised, but she is. She knows Clint Barton as Hawkeye and as his disastrous self, but she's only seen this persona a few times- and she's lucky to see it more than once.

Phil barely hides the pride for his former charge as he remembers the bet Clint lost to him and Nick, resulting him to give in to the former Director's secret job offer. Fury was the first to discover Clint's other capabilities when he let the then younger Barton take up the IQ test for the first time since the ones in the HR department assumed an ex-carnie couldn't do much in that part anyway.

It was Phil who insisted Clint on continuing his studies whenever he had downtime. For a kid with an IQ rivalling the geniuses of this generation (yes, Stark) and with only libraries and books to teach himself with, Clint learns pretty fast and soon whenever he's locked out of the range, he'd be found consistently taking up courses he likes on a whim and even managing to publish two books on Physics and Mathematics through his alias.

Clint is still adamant to keep his dumb carnie persona, but Fury got what he wanted anyway.

JARVIS speaks with Clint for another hour, the A.I. managing to sound grateful for the archer and readily helped in reviewing the video footages inside the tower prior to the incident. Another half an hour and both Hill and Coulson are already dragged to Clint's way of pinpointing the possible locations, enemies, and discussing codes, anagrams and possibilities the Intel Division would geek totally over.

They've reached a dead end three times before another cryptic message came from the kidnappers. Maria sees Clint's face light up like a bulb and JARVIS helpfully supplies with, "Good job, Agent Barton."

"Not an Agent anymore, J."

"My apologies, should I call you Mr. Barton then?"

"Clint would be a lot nicer."

"As you wish, Clint."

JARVIS sends the information to the main room, Phil gets back to organize the rescue operation while Clint and Maria run immediately to the Quinjet.

They're on air in a matter of minutes and Clint pilots the Quinjet because it's one of the things he really missed. Maria briefs a team of chosen agents who are more than eager to work with Hawkeye because they've teamed up at least once and they respected the guy bordering adoration.

"Barton."

"Yep?" Clint calls from his seat.

"Would you mind?" she gestured, both exasperated and fond.

"But it's Game of Thrones! It totally hypes everyone, right?"

He is met with the agents looking like they're hiding a laugh. Maria mentally rolls her eyes, gives Clint an arched eyebrow, and turns her gaze to the other people in the room. "Now, pay attention."

On the outside, Maria muses as she finished her briefing with the rescue team, the man piloting the jet is Clint Barton and his usual laidback, disastrous self.

But she's not blind, and her instincts in assessing the level of threat of anyone is what kept her alive. Maria can see the hailstorm of emotions fighting to take over beneath the archer's blue eyes; can see the faint twitches on the former agent's muscles, tight and trembling for action; and the clench of his jaw. She can sense the beast of rage rumbling a guttural growl, shackles rattling with restraint.

It's a sight to behold and she wonders how many times Phil as his handler had seen this side of Clint while Maria was busy shadowing Fury. She's rarely seen Clint Barton in action except at Tesseract incident of course, and the times he's debriefed by Fury himself.

Clint- no, Hawkeye may be humming to the tune of Game of Thrones soundtrack, but every fiber of his being is on fire. Clint Barton is livid.

She is thankful for the little miracle of them finding the ancient dungeon facility (Props to HYDRA) faster. Hawkeye steps with precision and finesse fit for a predator: silent and deadly while the team follows the general plan. Maria is a steady voice in their ears as she waits for them in the Quinjet with the medical team.

She hears movements, sharp shifts of air, and occasional bone-snapping and crunching, and then more of Hawkeye starting to bitch his way into the HYDRA facility. A smile creeps into her otherwise unflappable expression. On the few occasions Phil had to attend to other things, Maria had become Barton's handler.

She relieves the thrill of those times and can't help to feel the same now.

Notes: This is my first fic for the fandom, and you can guess my favorite character:D Anyway, I got two of these chapters done already (this is a three-chapter fic) so an update should be on Wednesday.. or something.

Also, this is already posted in Archive our Own under the same name sooo don't worry if you see my work there.

I'd love to hear your comments! I give free hugs!

-A.I