Chapter Text
Clint watched as the lights of the circus all started to flicker on as the sun slowly fell down passed the edge of the trees. Watched as the Ferris Wheel slowly turned and blinked as the lights flashed in some predetermined pattern. He would have listened to the sounds of the crowds coming in or even the chatter of the other carnies rushing to finish setting up for the big ten show.
But he had lost his hearing last year when some Enforcers for a gang that Carson owned money to rigged one of the cars they used to explode and Clint had lost his hearing the resulting damage. Spent two weeks in the hospital and came out of it with hearing aids that barely corrected the silence and sky high bills he never had the hope to pay off when he didn’t even have a home. Though those bills got sent back to his family home in Iowa and he never had any intention of going back there.
The young archer looked up passed the lights and counted the few stars that he could see this far out from the circus. The last five years had been as unkind as the first twelve and knowing that his eighteenth was around the corner made the burning desire to leave this place as fast as possible all the more hotter. Fuck if he had a plan though, he never had a plan. All he knew how to do was survive and he was barely doing that. None of his skills would be useful outside of a corrupt place like this. Carson’s circus was such a joke.
In a list of things he could do, pickpocketing and stealing without getting caught was the highest on the list. Though when shooting he could never miss so maybe he could get his arrest record erased by jumping into the military. Among other things he was good at survival, even if it was a day to day thing. By making himself as small as possible to hide and fit into places he shouldn't be able to or by playing the scared kid card. He was ridiculously good at manipulating people, if they didn’t know him. And he was exceptional at lying, save for a few occasions had talked his way out of getting arrested or getting into more trouble than needed. It had also saved him from facing Caron’s whip more than he needed to.
Fact of the matter was, at the end of the day he was genuinely just a scared kid.
Part of him would always feel guilty for the things he had done to keep himself alive or to even eat when Carson cut everyone’s pay by over half. Because of that he constantly feared punishment from Carson for what he did outside of the circus to have a little extra money. Since anything they stole during the performance went straight to Carson’s safe. This wasn’t the life that he wanted, but it was the one that Barney drove them into headon. He wanted to trust his brother but over the last few years he found that he couldn't, that he never should have in the first place.
In the present moment the blonde sighed and rubbed a hand down his face as he came to the realization that no matter how hard he tried he could never completely hide how terrified his life made him, how every choice he made only seemed to drive him further into the ground. He knew people were starting to connect the dots, where he was when he was away, where some of his money was coming from. It was only a matter of time before he would be forced to bite the bullet and face his actions. One of Trickshot’s minions had already found him out, but instead of ratting him out had instead decided that blackmail was better and Clint picked up regulars he never wanted, hated himself more since his choice in the matter had been ripped away. The people he earned money from weren’t the nicest to start with. He desperately wished he could be like the kids he watched leave at the end of the night, they all seemed happy, safe. Uncaring of the horrors that the world had to offer.
His moment of solitude was rapidly ripped away from him when he was dragged up from the ground by the back of his jacket. He wasn’t sure if he had cried out or not, he thought maybe but the next thing he knew he was shoved back against the tree he had been sitting against. He swallowed down his pounding heart and looked up into harsh brown eyes.
Seemed like Trickshot’s minion had just sold him out.
“Y’think y’can just lie ta me, street rat?” The words practically spit at him were difficult to hear, even with the hearing aids volume turned up and even attempting to lip read would be impossible when the man’s speech butchered words around the Ukrainian accent. He was Carson’s second and was just as bad as Carson when it came to dealing out punishments.
“I haven’t! I swear, I don't have any money and I haven’t narked!” Clint felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest, he couldn’t take another beating, not when the whip lashes on his back hadn’t even really started to heal yet.
“Then where y’sneakin’ off ta after shows, huh? Comin’ back in the early morning? What stupid fuck is housin you.”
Every part of Clint’s survival instincts screamed at him to run. Ivanov knew, he knew and clint was bound to get killed for it. But with the vice grip the man was keeping him pinned to the tree impeded any chance he had at escape. Despite the terror running ice cold through the archer’s veins he somehow kept a blank face and shook his head. “Not comin’ back from anywhere, sir, just walkin’. Can’t sleep.” Ironically the money that was tucked inside his jacket seemed to burn, like it was mocking him. He knew he shouldn’t have left last night, not when things surrounding him were so heated.
Ivanov let go of Clint’s jacket and patted the boy down from head to toe and checked all of his outside pockets. The entire time Clint was barely keeping himself from shaking, his heart firmly sitting up his throat. The Ukranian growled his frustration and shoved Clint back, “I catch another word y’sneakin’ around again and it’ll be twenty lashes and no dinner for a week.”
Clint stumbled on his feet when his back hit the tree and nodded quickly, only having caught half of what the other man had said and now mute out of sheer relief out of not getting caught. He had been nearly certain that he was done for this time. “Y-yes sir..” He barely managed to get the words out and took off into a sprint to his tent as the other man lumbered off to the trailers. Why had the rich fuck just handed him money. Anyone else would have called the cops. ‘Jail would have left me better off than this shit show.’ he thought to himself as he crawled onto his cot, glad everyone else was out working the crowds. For once he was glad he wasn’t part of the show and could just force himself to sleep the rest of the night. The smartest thing would be to stay close for once. Even if all he could think about was leaving as he fell asleep for the night.