Chapter Text
14. Clint is farsighted.
The team doesn't figure it out until about a year after Manhattan. It's almost like Clint stopped hiding it—one day he just came into he communal area wearing a pair of glasses with thick plastic frames, plopped down onto the couch, and pulled out his StarkPad to play Angry Birds.
"Um, sorry, is this like a new fashion trend or something?" Tony asked.
Clint shrugged as he idly swiped over the screen. "My contacts fell out and I can't get replacements until next week," he replied.
"You—you're Hawkeye. And you need contacts?"
"Never did get enough carrots when I was a kid."
Later, Steve found Clint's glasses lying on the coffee table. As he picked them up to put them somewhere safe, he noticed a smudge on the inside of the temples.
"The Amazing Hawkeye" was written in purple Sharpie, worn and faded but still clear. The handwriting looked suspiciously like Coulson's.
