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After the disaster with Ultron, having their asses handed to them, Clint took control of the quinjet. Everyone was exhausted, injured and in Bruce’s case mid panic attack. Tony tried to take control of the steering but Clint waved him off, he had a place in mind.
The fuel would just about make it and the destination had spare fuel, and if it comes to it he’d call Fury. For now he flew. He didn’t use Tony’s fancy autopilot, not out of distrust but more so he didn’t want this location on flight plans for anyone’s use.
Okay maybe there is some distrust there.
Upon landing, Clint powered the quinjet down and turned around.
“Safe house, will do for the night.”
He didn’t look anyone in the eyes , particularly Natasha who looked at him suspiciously. Natasha doesn’t recognise this safe house and they have worked together long enough for her to be suspicious or anything she doesn’t recognise.
He hooked an arm around her to aid her walking, Thor doing the same to Bruce with Tony and Steve taking up the rear. Clint eyed a broken tree stump that holds wilted pink tulips as he walks further up the drive. The hand not holding Natasha twitches slightly with the familiar urge to touch the trunk.
After all, it's where his mother died. His father too, the murdering bastard. Drunk bastard grabbed Edith and forced her into the car, forced her into the passenger seat in one of his usual fits of rage’s, Clint and Barney couldn’t hide the key in time before he found it, put himself behind the wheel and drove straight into that tree. Some sick murder suicide Edith couldn’t stop. The image of the flames, his mothers disfigured face from the impact, his father not yet dead until with a fury of a thirteen year old boy who just lost his mother, Clint finished the job for him.
The images are burnt into the back of his eyelids, the first in a long line of images that enter his nightmares each night.
But he won’t show weakness, not in front of the Avengers. Instead he tears his eyes away and focuses on making it towards the door. He carefully leans Natasha against the wall pulls an arrow from his quiver and carefully slots it through the letterbox, keeping a hold of the nock until he hears the key attach to the magnetised tip and with a practiced technique, extracts both the key and arrow from the letter slot.
He opens the door and switches the lights on. A quick glance around confirms for him Barney hasn’t visited between now and Clint’s last stay, the dust settled over everything exactly how Clint left it.
The other Avengers follow him in and look around, confusion crossing their faces in various degrees of intensity. Bruce looked around with curiosity but was also far more interested in his own mental state. Similarly, Thor was lost in his own mind but his confusion at the place was visible. Natasha looked around then focused most of her attention on Clint, noticing the nervous posture and fiddling hands. Steve, god love him, could never be a spy- his eyes tracing the walls with furrowed eyebrows.
Tony didn’t even try to hide his curiosity, walking towards the bookshelf and picking up a cracked photo frame that contained a picture of Clint’s mom and dad, his dads face ripped off “Who’s this hottie, who’s house are we in?”
Clint saw red and snatched the frame from his fingers and placed it face down, “you talk about her again I’ll fucking end you.” His voice filled with venom and dripping with warning. Tony responded with a half hearted apology as he threw his hands in the air in lieu of surrender, his apologies half hearted.
“Everybody sit.” Clint says, purposely trying to stop his voice from shaking and so it came out as a whisper. “I have first aid kits.”
And with that he quickly walked to the kitchen, taking five first aid kits from a cupboard- both he and Barney usually arrive injured and so are always stocked up. He also caught sight of another picture, this time his mom with her hands around Barney and Clint. He quickly turned it around to face the wall to ensure nobody catches sight.
Upon returning, everyone is sat, except Tony. Clint puts the five first aid kits down and allows everyone to grab what they need. Tony turns around holding what looks like an old child’s toy.
“Someone needs a wash.” Tony says as his lips curl with disgust while he chucks the toy between each hand like a hot potato, “You broke into someone’s house Clint?”
Clint once more saw red, he lunged and took the toy, a stuffed golden retriever with a missing tail, loose limb and replacement eye, its fur dirtied from years of play and years more of sitting in dust. It was once his mothers's first stuffed animal and as baby Clint was obsessed with dogs, she felt it an appropriate hand me down. Seeing Tony man handle his dog, his Lucky, Clint was growing angrier at the man.
“Touch anything again and I’ll cut your fingers off and ram them down your throat.” He speaks through gritted teeth, his eyes ablaze with fury.
Tony seemed to believe him this time, he looked concerned about Clint’s reaction and as such nodded sheepishly, sitting beside Steve.
“Don’t move.” He warned them, walking upstairs to see which rooms are available for the night. He would take his own room which he visited first in order to hide Lucky in his bedside table and shut the door to ensure no one sees inside. Thor and Bruce could take the master bedroom- only after Clint removes all personal items and hides them in his room- Natasha can take Barney’s room after all Clint would rather tell her over the others, and Steve and Tony can take the spare room. Perfect.
“CLINTON FRANCIS BARTON WHY ARE THERE AVENGERS IN OUR LIVING ROOM?”
Oh shit.
Barney’s home.
Shit.
Clint runs down the stairs to the point he’s panting as he skids into the living room.
“Barney-“ Clint speaks, almost in awe due to the rarity of them actually seeing each other.
Barney meanwhile looked pissed off, glaring at Clint, his bow in hand, his fist as bloody as the bow tips in his quiver. “What the fuck Clint?”
A silence descends as the Avengers all pause to observe Clint stare at this stranger who looks remarkably similar. This silence is broken by none other than Tony Stark “There’s two of you?”
“Shut up Stark.” Both Clint and Barney say in equal measures of annoyance, perfectly in sink as their eyes don’t leave each other.
“Do I have to ask again?” Barney starts but Clint grabs his arm and pulls him outside, Barney fights against his grip for the fun of it, happy to join his brother outside.
“I come home to our secret location only to find the fucking Avenger’s in my living room, using my first aid equipment, what the fuck Clint?”
“Barney, it’s not yours, you never fucking pay, it’s my first aid equipment and we were desperate we needed fuel. I didn’t know you’d be back but it’s my house too.”
“And a weird ass plane? Is that yours?” His arms cross over his chest, holding onto his bow by only the string. “You’re lucky I didn’t destroy it.”
Clint sighs, tired of Barney’s behaviour. “It’s Tony’s, I’ll just fill it with fuel and we’ll go.”
“It’s Tony’s” Barney repeats mockingly before glaring at Clint with a glare far too similar to Clint’s own. “You were planning on letting them stay the night, weren’t you? Well I’m not stopping you, but this kind of misuse of your power is what turned dad to drink.”
“You taught me to hit him!” Clint snaps back, his own anger returning, “Don’t go blaming me for that night when you’re just as bad.”
“You’re still bringing up that stupid circus thing?”
“YOU BETRAYED ME! TRIED TO KILL ME!”
“Oh please, I couldn’t stop them.”
Clint leans in close and spits in his face as he talks, icy blue eyes full of outrage. “I would have if it were you.”
“Oh fuck off Clint.” Barney leant in and spat with equal anger.
“You know what,” Clint pulls back, his hands and arms throwing up to show his emotion, “Yeah, we’re staying the night, so you can hide up in your room and fuck off, Barney. I’m not dealing with your bullshit.”
Clint storms back inside and speaks with leftover anger he hasn’t fully recovered from. “Natasha, I’m sorry you’re sleeping on the couch, you four I’ll show you where you’re sleeping. You can shower and change.”
“Who’s sleeping with who?” Bruce timidly asks, his hand even raising slightly.
“Steve and Tony get a single bed each, Thor and yourself can share a bed.”
“W-why us?” He stuttered, hiding a blush that crept up his neck.
“Don’t be ridiculous Bruce, we all know you and Thor are together. And you’re less likely to touch shit so you get a proper bedroom.
And so with military precision, Clint leads everyone to their assigned rooms, allows them time to shower and decompress, he even cooks for them and leaves a plate outside Barney’s door which a soft creek later confirms he takes.. He sends them to bed early but no one protests and even ensures they won’t leave by locking their doors, turns out his father installing outside locks on all the doors has been useful. Natasha was injured and out like a light, the others weren’t alone and thus had someone to speak to speak to in order to prevent loneliness.
Clint is too restless to sleep, instead he sneaks out without waking Natasha and takes the fuel he keeps in the shed and two bottles at a time takes it all the way up to the drive to the abandoned Quinjet. On his 3rd trip as he is pouring the second bottle in, he hears footsteps behind him, he looks and sees Barney carrying two bottles to help him.
“Barney.”
“Clint.”
The two stare at each other before both dropping the bottles and hugging, both too mentally drained to keep hating each other. It’s been nearly 5 years since they last ran into each other. They missed each other.
Barney pulled back and withdrew Lucky from his pocket, Clint’s childhood stuffed animal from his pocket and tucked it into his shirt, leaving its floppy head and two front legs hanging over. Clint can’t help but smile, his brother acting like a kid again, he didn’t believe the event existed.
“I can’t believe you’re one of them.”
“I can promise you it was as shocking for me.”
“Are you and Black Widow a thing? You always pair together, sit together, it’s always you two.” He wiggles his eyebrow causing Clint to huff out a laugh.
“We’re just friends, I’m still gay as shit.”
Barney shrugs, understanding and then raises a single eyebrow. “Is Stark as annoying as he seems?”
“Oh, far worse. He has a sense of humour that doesn’t adapt to the circumstances. Constantly trying to upgrade my bow, as if that needs updating, as if I’m not fine without it.”
“You were always better than me.”
“Barney-“
“No Clint, you were. Always. Better archer, better person. And I-“
Clint interrupts not with words but with another hug, throwing himself into his brother's arms like a child. He smelt of blood, he has since that day child services came to pick them both up.
Clint is the one to pull back and they both look into each other’s blue eyes, saying everything unspoken. They began to work together to fill the jet, and upon completion they led each other inside. Standing in the landing, a hand on their respective rooms they glanced at each other once again.
Clint withdrew Lucky from his shirt and held it in his hand, a soft squeeze of the dying toy, “Goodnight Barney.”
“Goodnight Clint.”
The next morning, Clint was up before even Steve, but not before Barney who left possibly before even sleeping.
A hole grew in Clint’s heart, Lucky’s differing eyes staring into him from his bedside table and Clint knew he’d once again be leaving this house, leaving Barney once more. He tried to remind himself that, like usual, Barney left first, but that didn’t make the hole any smaller. He wants his brother. He grabbed Lucky with a childish sulk and hugged the toy to his chest, a soft whisper “I miss you Barney” dirtied the head of the dog along with a single tear.