Chapter Text
He blamed Tony, Clint completely and one hundred percent blamed that prick for getting him into one of his shitty ass schemes...again. Clint had taken Tony’s bait sure but c’mon, s’just not right. One moment it was Tony pulling a prank on the Odinson kids because apparently one of them had gotten on his bad side in his senior lit class, Loki and Thor (God those two were weird, and they looked nothing alike), while Clint watched from the ‘getaway’ car and the next moments the cops were there and Tony was gone. Clint, used to the drill by now got out of the car and started walking over to the patrol car sliding in when the officer opened it for him.
“Thanks chief.”
The officer riding shotgun looked to his senior who Clint had made the remark to, the senior officer just shrugged, “This is the one I was telling you about.” He said to the new trainee, Clint assumed, who gave a nod in understanding. "So it's true that he's in every five days?" he heared the trainee ask The Chief who just nodded in response, he was wrong though, last time Clint checked he was in every three to four days on really rare occasions though they wouldn't see much of him for a while. Clint’s eyes shifted to the scenes outside, the trees speeding by turning into a blur of orange and yellow autumn leaves. He moved to scratch at his nose and realized that this was the second time he’d been taken into custody since he’d turned 17 just about five days ago. Almost all the police in his town knew who he was, though that wasn’t much of a bragging right because there were only about ten cops in their small town. The Carmichael twins, Nathan and Joseph, Erin Olefin who was a perpetual worry wart and a slight hypochondriac, The Chief Malcolm Groves, and of course the only female police officer was Jody Mils.
The other five officers were in training still so Clint hadn’t had the honor of getting to know their names yet, instead he gave them nicknames. The ride was a long one and it took about 20 minutes of silence to get to the police station and about five for Clint to take the ‘walk of shame’ to the bench in the far end of the station right next to the door that lead to the holding cell in the back. About three or four kids were already sitting on the bright blue bench, the youngest looking one looked up as Clint walked by, nudging his friends in a non-too settle way.
“What’d they get you for?” Clint asked laughing a little as the kids shrunk down in their seats, intimidated by him. After all, he was a legend with the kids around town, even if some of the tales they heard about him were a bit far-fetched everything stuck well enough.
“N-nothing too bad.” The dark haired boy with the green eyes said, his freckles highlighted by the blush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. The boy next to him was the next to speak; they looked like brothers with the exception of their length of hair and the fact that the one speaking previously was definitely older than the other two.
“It wasn’t anything much…” He said, looking to his brother as if it were his entire fault they were even in the jail house.
The third one, the one with the black hair and blue eyes that looked like he was drowning in the beige jacket he was wearing, looked up innocently and offered up an explanation, “What Sam means to say is that we were simply playing a prank and-”
“Jeez Cas, why’d you always gotta talk like that?” back to the green eyed boy, apparently the leader, who then looked back to Clint who was wearing a very wide grin the way the kids had been talking was reminiscent of him and Tony when they were younger (even if it was Tony who got him into this mess, he was still a good friend) and he missed those days when he was just a minor trouble maker.
Before the kid could get a word in one of the Carmichael twins walked in, hands on hips and a displeased glower (Clint guessed he was Joseph, the one that basically hated children and his job) “Good news boys, you’re parents are here to claim you and hopefully make you sorry you were ever born.” He said, the children on the bench looked even more disgruntled except for the youngest one, Cas he guessed, who’d grown a sad look on his face.
“Boys!” a loud boom sounded, the voice belonged to one of the men Clint’s seen out in the lumber yard, John Winchester.
That sure as hell explained the two boys who looked like the spitting image of him, and the darker haired boy with blue eyes must’ve been Castiel Novak, God he really felt for the kid his parents were bible thumpers to the extreme, they’d probably make him sit and read scripture for an hour once they found out, though that hadn’t helped Cas’ older brother, Lucifer who was in the same grade as Clint. Though Clint had some faith in the kids mom, Ms. Novak really was the kindest person he’d met in this godforsaken town, well aside from a couple of his friends.
“Dad.” The elder one said, followed by his younger brothers’ plea of “We can explain!”
But John wasn’t having any of it, he silenced them with a cold look, a muttered ‘we’ll talk at home’ and then grabbed each of them off the bench by their shirt collars and marched them out the door faster than light, far off Clint could hear John thank the officers for bringing his boys before they could make even bigger fools of themselves. Now it was just Castiel who sat across him, eyes downcast and frightful as his gaze looked like it was boring a hole into the ground.
“Hey, kid.” Clint said, “Don’t worry; I’m sure your parents will understand.” This statement didn’t seem to help Castiel at all and Clint really felt for the kid, Cas was just about to open his mouth to respond when a high pitched woman’s voice was heard from the front of the police station, moments later a tall dark haired woman with the same blue eyes as Cas came rushing over to where he sat knelling down so she was level with him.
Clint liked to pretend he couldn’t hear them, but they weren’t all too far away and Ms. Novak sure as hell wasn’t trying to be quiet, though she was speaking in a calm even toned voice.
“Castiel, sweetie, this is exactly why I told you not to play with those Winchester boys.” Cas’ mother chastised. The boy looked up at his mother for the first time since she arrived, as pleading look in his eyes, “But, Dean ‘n Sam are my friends.” His tiny voice shook.
“I thought Adam and Gabriel were your friends.”
“Not like Dean and Sam!” Castiel said, and to Clint surprise the kid looked dead set on arguing with his mother over the friends who’d gotten him in trouble.
Ms. Novak looked up, trying to figure out if anyone was listening in on their conversation, her gaze steadily landing on Clint. Now, she’d always been nice to him whenever their paths happened to cross because honest to God the woman thought he could do no wrong (the Novak’s had just moved in a little over two months ago so they weren’t fully aware of Clint’s reputation as of yet) and Clint kind of liked that fact. “Clinton,” oh, that too, she always used his full name which was kind of nice really, “what are you doing here?” she questioned, and maybe it’s because the Novak’s were always nice to him, or maybe it was because they actually trusted him that he hated to think that he was just lowering her expectations by stating why he was here.
“Oh, you know, just…waitin for a friend.” to get me the hell out of here. Instead of the questioning look he was expecting, instead he saw understanding, maybe Ms. Novak wasn’t as bad as her husband when it came down to the whole judgment day thing.
“Well, I hope he gets here soon, it’s a little late out to be spending it in here.” She said with a smile.
“Don’t worry Ms. Novak, I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” He said, though he wasn’t completely sure if Tony would bail him out this time usually he’d be here by now. Ms. Novak smiled kindly as she patted Castiel, signifying that it was time to leave.
“Well, get home safely Clinton, and please, call me Anna.” This day really just kept getting stranger and stranger, but maybe this was a good sign for him, that someone finally trusted him.
“Oh, ‘kay thanks, ‘n I will you drive safely too…Anna.” He said, with a little difficulty on the last bit, she just nodded her head and pat his shoulder as they walked off, Castiel following along behind still clutching his mother’s hand as he waved weakly a small goodbye to Clint.
It was two hours later, now 9:43, seven glasses of water and two bathroom breaks later when Tony finally decided to come bail Clint’s ass out of the clink. He walked up, confident and with that shit eating grin on his face, he came up right next to Clint who was, at this point, was already half asleep with drool leaking from the edge of his mouth, “Hey there sunshine, miss me?” was the sound that he jumped at, waking in a horrible daze and finding that bastard standing over him, he used the back of his hand to wipe away the drool and leveled a glare at Tony.
“Really Stark, I was getting ready to sleep here, thought you’d forgotten.” He huffed, though Clint Barton doesn’t ‘huff’ that often, there are few exceptions and all of them either happen when he’s hungry or very tired, coincidently right now he happened to be both.
“I was expecting more of a ‘thank you kind, sweet, wonderful Tony I shall forever be in your debt etc.’.” Tony said, faking a voice that was supposed to resemble Clint’s but came out more feminine and flighty. Clint stood, stretching as he yawned.
“You know, I’d usually continue on with this banter, but I’m too tired for this shit.” He said, pushing past Tony and heading for the exit, flinging a faux salute at the two officers in the front, “Gentlemen, see you guys in about three days.”
They glared the whole way as he left the building, but Clint just had to do that ok? It was like, upholding his reputation which you know, wasn’t the best, but it was his so he might as well own it.
“Whoa,” Tony said, catching up and putting a hand on Clint’s shoulder to slow him down as he came to walk beside him, “I think Noah's found a new level to hate you on, you know it's just like I said, just like I always say, but no one listens to me. Do I just have that face that no one listens to because -”
“Tony," Clint cut in, not wanting to hear anymore of Tony's speech, maybe if it was any other time but right now and under any other circumstances, "we’re friends; I respect you, somewhat,”
“That means so much coming from you, I'm flattered really.” Tony remarked flatly.
“I think I can manage jus' fine without one of your lectures. I just don’t see the point of being anything other than what I am, I’ll be upfront about shit, because I’m not like you. I can’t just throw around my money every time I give out a backhanded compliment or do bad shit, that’s just not how it works for me.” For once, in the ten years Clint had known Tony, his friend was quiet, they walked in silence and Clint stopped in front of the Mayors house long enough to wave goodbye to Tony.
If someone had asked him later how he’d managed to drag himself home, Clint wouldn’t know how to answer them. All he could remember was opening the door to his small little one story house, dropping his keys into the dish he kept by the front door, after having lost several pairs, and crawling into bed after brushing and flossing his teeth, the blankets were warm and they swallowed him whole as he drifted off into the dream world, one where he wasn’t the kid with the record, one where he was just Clinton Francis Barton.