Chapter Text
The drive might have been relaxing. You know, with the clear starry sky, a sultry breeze and no other cars on the road. It might’ve been, if not for the horrible piercing cries that sounded through the night, and if that didn’t wasn’t disturbing enough, the whimpering of the dog that was slumped on the backseat was nearly worse than the sound of the monster, creature, or whatever the futz was still hunting him.
He spared a glance behind him. The dog’s golden fur was matted with blood, and from where he sat he couldn’t see the dogs left eye but he didn’t need too, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t forget that image anytime soon.
'Hang on buddy, we’re almost there.' He muttered.
Almost where? God knew. Someplace that didn’t even exist on the map. He wasn’t even sure why he was still going. Well, that wasn’t completely true. It was because he had nowhere else to go. His brother gone, the circus burned down and never would he ever go back into the foster system. And the fortune-teller had always seemed nice, he could probably trust her directions. She had never tried to stab him, like his mentors had, or beat him up, like his father had, or starve him, like some of the foster families had seemed intent on doing. She was nice, or, had been. He had no idea if she was even still alive.
Another screech pierced through the night, and this time it was a hell of a lot closer than the first one. And if the gas pedal hadn’t been rammed down completely before it sure as hell was now. He hit a bump in the road and the dog whimpered. Clint clenched his jaw. As soon as he got the dog to safety and got his hands on some more arrows he was going to kill that thing. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he was going to do it.
'Turn left and you’ve arrived at your destination.'
Destination? What destination there just was a stupid hill and a tree that-
Whatever crashed into the side of the car did it with so much power that the car was thrown to the side. Glass shattered and the airbags exploded. There was a yelp as the car crashed against the hill. It rolled once, and then twice before it shuddered to a halt.
For a moment, there was nothing. But then, slowly, senses returned to him. First, he felt a cutting pain in his chest. Then, he heard a drip, and then another before he became aware of something hot sticking to his face. He heard his own ragged breathing at the same time he felt grass sticking to his cheek. He opened his eyes and was assaulted by a wave of dizziness. On reflex he scrunched his eyes shut but then he forced them to open again. The car was on its side and the only thing that kept him hanging in his seat was the seatbelt that was cutting into his chest. Adrenaline spiked and he took a sharp intake of breath. Something shifted in his chest and he supposed it would’ve hurt if he currently wasn’t high on adrenaline.
Shit shit shit shit, the dog, where was the dog?! Clint twisted as far as the seatbelt would allow and looked at the backseat.
It was empty, the dog wasn’t there. The backseat was littered with the glas that had previously been the rear window. The only trace of the dog where the red staining grey fabric of the seats.
Shit shit shit-
He braced his feet against the floor of the car and fumbled for the seat belt buckle. He came free with a click, and it was a testament to his rattled state that he still slid further against the car door. Part of his body weight pressed against his shoulder and Clint couldn’t suppress a groan. He bit his lip, found that it was split already, and maneuvered his arm so that it he could push himself upright, or, at least, up. He reached for the door on the other side of the car, the one not currently half wedged into the ground, and pushed it open. Then he wrestled himself half out of the car. He could feel the car move with him. He had to be fast, but not the too reckless climbing out of the side or the car would just topple again and crush him. Clint Barton, survived the crash but then crushes himself to death with the car. It would be typical Barton luck. It might’ve happened too, if he hadn’t been taught how to balance on a tightrope fifty feet above the ground shooting arrows at moving targets without the safety of a net to rely on.
So Clint got out of the car alright. He pulled himself out of the doors and perched on the car. For one treacherous second that sight of the lurking shadow still on the road nearly made him crawl right back in. The shadow moved and another horrible screech that made him wish he wasn’t wearing his hearing aids sounded from the beast. It spread its wings and where before it just had been the size of a small garbage truck it was now the size of a truck other trucks for beakfrast. A truck made of leathery skin, claws like razors that could cut through metal (he had seen it happen), a tail long and thing that was still strong enough to crush a car, and inexplicably, a chicken head stuck on top.
You might think that was funny. In any other situation, it indeed would’ve been funny. But, Clint had seen first hand what the beast was capable of. After that, it hadn’t been so funny.
It’s head was swerving his left to right while it paced. With his sharp eyesight, Clint could see the two arrows still sticking out of the beasts head where once its eyes had been. How it had managed to follow Clint all the way from Manhattan while being blind he couldn’t fathom. But still, the thing was here, and probably just as dangerous it had been before Clint had shot his eyes out.
Lightning split the sky above him and thunder rumbled. Before Clint could wonder where the lightning had come from while a moment ago the sky had been clear he heard another noise. A whimper. He turned and spotted the golden patch of fur in the grass. Oh thank god at least the dog was still alive.
Another lightning strike and Clint’s sharp eyes caught the shimmer of his bow and quiver lying in the grass.
Before Clint could make a decision the creature moved. It’s head snapped to the direction of where the whimper had come from and it roared. Then, not unlike the gooze that had always chased him at the circus, neck stretched, wings still spread, beak snapping, it charged. This gooze however, was twenty times bigger than it was supposed to be and had to ability to shred freight crates.
And, and, it was running at the dog and no futzin creature was going get away with hurting a dog while Clint was on watch, not even one as big and deadly as this one.
'Hey! HEY CHICKENSHIT!' Clint shouted and he jumped from his car. He hit the ground running and launched himself at his weapons. The creature roared again and Clint could hear it’s claw dig into the ground as it adjusted his course. Good news: it wasn’t going after the dog anymore. Bad news: It was now going after him.
His fingers brushed over his bow and with his other hand he grabbed his quiver. He threw it over his shoulder and without looking he threw himself to the right, hoping, praying that he had been quick enough. The beast barreled past him, his clawed just nearly missing him. It’s outstretched wings momentarily blocked out the night sky but then the beast was past him. A horrible smell assaulted his nostrils and he nearly vomited right there and then. However, he was a little to busy for that.
Clint used his momentum and pushed himself upright. He had two arrows left. Two bronze arrows the fortune teller had pushed in his hands the night she had pulled him away from the flames of the burning circus tent. 'Flee if you can.' She had said. 'Use these if you can’t.'
He adjusted his stance. With another one of its screeches the creature turned. It was gonna charge him again. Clint had nowhere to hide. He would get crushed by the car if he ducked behind it. He would never make it to the pine tree on the top of the hill before the creature was upon him.
Two arrows left, better make good use of them.
He nocked an arrow, the wire tensed. He didn’t know where the thing’s heart was, but, shooting at its head had proved ineffective if you wanted to kill it. He aimed and his back shoulder was aflame as his muscle cramped. Still, he didn't’ waver. The ground shook beneath him as the creature rushed towards his, screeching as it did so. He slowed his breathing. He prayed the thing actually had a heart. He exhaled and his hand relaxed and the arrow left his bow. It whizzed to the air, he imagined he could hear its whistle, and, and, and-
It bounced harmlessly of the tough leather skin. The beast didn’t even stumble. Clint’s eyes grew wide and he took a step backwards. The horrible stench became stronger as the beast got closer and this was it, the thing was going to kill him. He would’ve thought he died from some kind of infection or shot in an ally or something. Not killed by some weird dragon chicken hybrid. He took another step backwards and if his fate hadn’t already been sealed it now was. His foot got caught in a root sticking from the ground and Clint fell painfully on his back. He twisted and could see it the claw coming for him just as the horrible smell of the beast filled the air. He was going to get shredded, the same way the dumpster had been yesterday in the alley, and, and-
Shadows seemed to come together in front of him. They swirled around him and then solidified. They seemed to take the form of a man and then it weren’t shadows in front of him but an actual boy. A guy dressed in black, and sleeves cut off his hoodie and brown hair messily tied together in a bun. He couldn’t see the boys face, but what Clint did see was the bronze contrasting against the boys silver hand.
Then the sword slashed down and the claw separated from the monster in an explosion of gold blood. The beast howled in an impossibly high pitch and staggered backwards. It was balancing on its last remaining leg, blind and flapping with its wing to escape from whatever had just suddenly cut off its claw. The boy turned around and Clint was met with bright blue eyes and a face that was a testament that life wasn’t fair. He looked at Clint with a scowl that he was pretty sure could freeze hell. The air seemed to cool around him as the boy reached for him and dragged him upright with more force than a boy should have.
'What in Zeus’s name are you doing?' He hissed. 'Get up to the hill, you idiot!' He then shoved him into the direction of the tree and Clint staggered a few steps backwards staring, probably with stupid big eyes, at the guy that just had ,literally, materialized out of nothing.
He might’ve rubbed his eyes make sure he was still seeing it all correctly if he hadn’t spent the last day being hunted by a Franken-MCchicken-Snake monster. The boy pointed up the the hill, and jep that definitely was a metal arm, and growled.
'Go!'
Before he turned his back to Clint again and face the beast. The beast, still blind but not certainly not deaf. It balanced on its leg and its serpent neck lashed out, the beak open and filled with razor teeth that definitely didn’t belong in a chickens mouth.
The kid was going futzin die. No way he-
'Bucky watch out!' a second voice shouted just before a red blue shield smashed into the the monsters head. The beast got thrown off course and stumbled. Having no other leg to stand on it crashed on its side in a mess of leathery skin, gold blood and long limbs tipped by spikes and claws.
Clint head snapped to the side as he looked up the hill. On the top of the hill stood another boy. His head crowned by short blonde hair, broad shoulders and small waist, in comparison to his shoulder at least. It probably was still massive. He looked like a marble statue had come alive and then had decided to wear a aggressively orange shirt and then climb up a random hill and there he was.
He charged down the hill and caught the shield that had come flying back to his direction. He didn’t even pause as it clicked back onto his raised arm.
'No shit Stevie.' The guy grumbled before he dodged out of the way of a flailing wing.
'Sam!' The blonde-haired boy shouted even as he raised his arm to throw his shield again, 'Get that guy to camp!'
For a second Clint thought the guy was talking about the brown-haired boy still playing tag with the monster but then somebody grabbed his hand.
Another guy was already dragging him away. He shot Clint a half grin that really didn’t seem appropriate for the situation.
'Hey man, no worries you’ll get the hang of it in no time. For now, better let those guys handle it.' He said even as he was pulling towards the top of the hill.
Clint stumbled after the guy, Sam, too confused to know what to do else. He would’ve followed the guy all the way up the top of the hill if it wasn’t for the dog.
He had almost forgotten about it, but as another lightning strike split the air Clint saw the unmoving golden patch of fur and no way he was leaving it behind. Monster or no monster.
'Shit!' He cursed before he pulled himself out of the boys grip.
'What?!- Hey! Are you out of your mind?' The guy shouted to him even as he grasped for him, but Clint was too quick. Behind him, he could hear the frustrated roars of the beast. In his periphery he saw other figures gather on the top of the hill, some of them were shouting, others raised sticks that looked remarkably a lot like spears. Clint ignored them. The dog, the dog had saved his life and-
He skidded to a halt and next to the limp form. The dag wagged once with its tail as it saw him but then let out another whimper. It couldn’t even wag without hurting.
Clint crouched down and whispered nothings to the dog as he tried to carefully reached for it.
'Shh boy, it’s okay, it’s okay.'
Behind him the creature screeched and Clint could hear the beating of its wings. Clint turned just in time to saw the beast rise up into the air. Its tail lashed out and slammed against the blonde boys shield yet the force knocked him backwards nonetheless and he with a heavy thud he slammed on his back. Immediately the brown-haired boy was at his side, seemingly again having appeared out of nowhere. Even from where he was crouched he could see the glare on the boys face. The monster hovered above the two, the stump of his leg barely bleeding anymore. It swiped again with his tail at the brown-haired boy. However, he was prepared. He stood, and with the blue and red shield clasped on his metal arm he parried the blow. The beast craned its neck and it was preparing to strike again and that was when the stone Clint had thrown connected to its head.
'HEY YOU FUGLY!'
It wasn’t a sophisticated insult. Hell, normally Clint was a lot more creativity when insulting somebody, or rater, something. But, it had been a long day. It didn’t matter anyway it worked. The beast turned without hesitation, the noise of Clint’s shouting guiding where it needed to go. With another beat of its wing it launched itself through the air.
He was pretty sure Sam and the Bucky guy were shouting something.. But, between the screeching, the boom of the creature’s wing and the blood rushing through his ears even his hearing aids couldn’t make out was what said. Not that he was practically interested. He had one shot left, and that beast still had to pay for hurting the dog. He reached for his last arrow in his quiver and time slowed. The beast had folded its wings against its body as it shot through the air. He could see golden specks of blood dried on the arrows that were sticking out from where its eyes had once been.
Clint nocked his arrow and the wire tensed.
The beast moved and one of its claws reached for him. Only a few seconds left and he would turn to shreds. Still, he waited. Archery was waiting for the moment, right? Waiting for when everything all came together. He stood unwavering, bow raised and arrow nocked and he didn’t notice the glow that was coming from his body, like his skin had been painted by the rays of the sun of the brightest summer day. He didn’t notice the light that swirled all around him.
The beast opened its maw to roar in triumph and its teeth reflected the light.
'Eat shit.' Clint whispered and he released the arrow.
The arrow sprouted in the beast’s throat and the roar turned into a howl. It went limp even as it was still was hurtling through the air, for a second he was afraid that the beast would kill him anyway by crashing into him, but then it exploded into a cloud of gold dust.
For a second the only thing he heard was his own exhausted panting. Dotted on the hill were various other kids. They were all staring at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place. Even the brown-haired boy and blonde were staring at him. Or not at him, but at something above him.
That was when Clint noticed the already fading glow of his skin. He looked up and saw the golden image of some kind of instrument floating above his head fade into nothingness.
'Huh.' He said to nobody in particular. 'Neat.'
Then everything went dark and he was unconscious before he hit the ground.