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Guns, and fire. Blood.
Shouting at someone’s complete and utter desire to wade into the middle of the battlefield and kick some ass.
That’s what he remembers about that mission.
He sees better from a distance, everyone knows that. That’s why they work well together. She’s on the ground, like a spider, while he’s covering her from up high, like a hawk.
He finds himself right in the middle of the battlefield more often than not, though. He’d leave his comfort zone if it meant he could cover her six, which is necessary five times out of ten because, well, despite being one of the most efficient agents in the world, for some reason she craves the action, she craves the fist fights, she craves the bullets grazing her skin and the gunpowder assaulting her nostrils. And one day, he thinks, one of those bullets will hit her back or her head and damn it if he’s not there to stop it with his own body if need be.
That’s why she remembers Budapest to be just that: the two of them, right in the middle of the action, fighting side by side and back to back like the unit they are. The best damn unit in the history of anything: Strike Team Delta. Who cares if they’re fighting robots or terrorists or whatever? Who cares if this is magic and monsters and they’re two un-superpowered agents playing hero in New York? Hawkeye is fighting beside her and that’s all that matters. It’s fun and she could do absolutely anything as long as Clint is there. Just like Budapest.
He, on the other hand, remembers annoyance. He remembers leaving his post up high to help her down low, remembers the face mask of that one goon and the tattoo of the other henchman. He remembers the eye patch of presumably one of the bosses, and he remembers a girl fighting almost as well as his Widow. Almost. He remembers being annoyed that Romanoff just attacked without his arrows taking out most of the crew first (because “where’s the fun in that, spoilsport?”) and he remembers very human people having the chance to hurt or maim or kill his partner. He’s not having fun because damn it Natasha, this could have been so simple if you’d just waited a few friggin’ seconds! And he couldn’t savor the battle because one, it’s close combat and he barely uses his beloved bow for actual archery, and two, he spends most of it being absolutely concerned and annoyed and ready to tell her off once they finish the mission. But in the Battle of New York, none of it was simple, none of it was human, and none of it can be solved just by his arrows and waiting for a few seconds. So Nat and him were in the middle of the battlefield and they both needed to be and he couldn’t be annoyed because none of that was Natasha’s fault for being so eager so no, that wasn’t like Budapest at all.
Back then, he’d roll his eyes whenever Natasha looks back at Budapest fondly. /Of course you remember it fondly you idiot./ He couldn’t believe she’d keep bringing it up, especially since they’ve had so many other missions that went according to plan that they both enjoyed. Missions where she wasn’t an annoying prick (to him) and he wasn’t an uptight spoilsport (to her).
But then again…
Maybe it was because Budapest was one of the first times in the battlefield that she knew he had her back, regardless of the situation. Regardless of whether he’s comfortable with it or not. Regardless of whether he agreed with her plan or not. Regardless if it was even planned or not. Budapest was something that grew into him using his bow and arrow in close combat against her while he was controlled by Loki (inefficient, easy to dodge, in short, him not wanting to kill her even while possessed by a crazy murderous psychopath) or him pulling his punches at the airport (because let’s be real, she can take on a dozen elite male agents no problem but Agent Barton isn’t just some elite agent so how the heck did she come out of that without a broken bone). She looked at it fondly because of him. Because they were together. Partners. No matter what.
And he didn’t really look back at Budapest that fondly in the past, but now, every time someone from the news reports about something in Budapest, his eyes drift to his left wrist where he has her arrow necklace tied securely never to be removed again, and his eyes water and he would give anything, /anything/, to be back in Budapest with her. Because that was the best damn time of his life.
Yeah, he didn’t really think of it that way back then, but hey, he sees better from a distance, after all.