#pre winterhawk

Avengers Headquarter - Conference Room

“Oh! My! God!” Clint blurted the moment the door fell shut behind the two men. For the first time in his life he was the first one in the conference room and waited for the rest of the team when the two of them came in. His eyes went comically wide. One of them was Steve Rogers, Captain America, and the other one… “Winter Soldier!” he breathed. The man wore his black combat gear and his mask. 

“Hello, Clint,” Steve said. “You know…” 

“Fuck!” Clint interrupted him. “Of course I know him! He almost killed me twice!” he said and rose from his chair in the conference room. “Minsk and Budapest. I’m a huge fan!” 

“Wait,” Steve frowned. “He almost killed you twice and you’re a fan?” 

“The Winter Soldier is a legend, Steve! Second best sniper and second best assassin in the world,” Clint babbled.

“Second best assassin?” Steve wanted to know. “Who’s the best?” 

“Natasha of course!” Clint said matter-of-factly.

“And let me guess, you’re the best sniper?” Steve asked.

“Sure am,” he said. “That’s why I’m still alive. How could you convince him to come with you? I thought he’s Hydra?” 

“No, Clint. Bucky has…” Steve started but once again Clint interrupted him.

“What? Bucky? Really? That greasy-haired emo guy who hangs around in your apartment and eats pudding?”

Steve raised a brow and the Winter Soldier, who had just passed Clint, stopped and turned around. He cocked his head and slowly reached for his mask. 

“Emo guy?” he asked while Clint watched him remove it. “Greasy-haired?” 

“Aww, shit,” Clint blushed.  

“Second best assassin?” Bucky growled and planted himself in front of Clint, his arms folded in front of his chest. 

“I… uh… you have to admit that Natasha is awesome,” he managed.  

Bucky glared at him for a few very long moments before he nodded. 

“Fair,” he said then. 

“Why didn’t you tell us that Bucky is the Winter Soldier?” He turned to Steve now.

“That was what I tried, Clint,” Steve said, a smirk on his lips. “But you never let me finish my sentences. And Fury said we should wait to tell you till he got his clearance.” 

“So, you’re the Winter Soldier?” Clint looked at Bucky now. 

“Second best sniper?” Bucky growled. “You think you’re better than me?”

“Yeah,” Clint grinned. “That’s me!” 

“Jury’s still out,” Bucky said and Clint cocked his head. 

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Hawkeye (Comics)

Rating: T

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, pre-winterhawk - Relationship, pre James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Alpine the Cat & James "Bucky" Barnes

Additional Tags: Alpine's a little shit, Cat Rearing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Fluff, Angst (just a little), Soft Bucky Barnes, Supportive Steve Rogers, Occasional swearing, Pre-Slash, Guest Stars Clint and Lucky

Summary:

He’s on his knees, rainwater seeping through his cargo pants, his face as close to the rough pavement as he can make it, trying to get a look at the dirty white, trembling ball of wet fur squeezed underneath the dumpster.

“Hey, baby,” he coos, “how you doin’?”

Marvel, post Winter Soldier

Rated: G Wordcount: 5064 Square filled: Fake Relationship for the @winterhawkbingo Ship: Platonic Clintasha / pre Winterhawk Summary: 

@claraxbarton promised me, that if I wrote something to go with the burning Swedish goat - specifically the bit with the archer - that she would, in return, write me the rest of the WW3some panty fic from the Three Sentence Meme prompt. I believe she mentioned 3k words.  

I told her it would be a ficlet at best, and she still agreed.

So this nonsense is all her fault. 

If my Tumblr gets purged tomorrow, I want this to be my legacy. 

Bucky had discovered Tumblr.

No one bothered to warn him about the giant time suck that was the internet, or how you could rabbit-hop down a wormhole of infinite leaps of thought that somehow ended with a Reddit thread detailing the psychotic demands of an over-the-top bride who wanted her wedding party to wear soda hats.

He’d had to google soda hats, and that had only increased his confusion.

Still, he was figuring out this modern social media shit, and he was chasing silliness on the internet, and occasionally he found good porn, so overall, Bucky felt solidly okay about his life choices.

And texting.

Man, he loved texting.

Steve loved texting too - he mostly loved trolling Stark with telegram-like messages, as though Steve had ever sent a telegram in his goddamn life - and Bucky enjoyed sending memes. And weird links.  And the ability to send said memes and links and, okay, the occasional necessary modern question, at all hours of the day or night with no one’s objections.  

He and Clint had developed a weird habit of sending each other the most ridiculous-sounding real news stories they could find.  Occasionally Natasha participated by sending tiny links with no context, often to Russian news stories, which she seemed to think was a particularly funny inside joke.

So when Bucky scrolled across ‘Swedish Christmas Goat Burned Down for 27th Time’ on his Tumblr dash, he was sure he’d struck gold. Holiday-appropriate, utterly ridiculous, complete chaos, and one thousand percent true.

He group texted it to Natasha and Clint before he even got through the first two paragraphs.

Then he screenshot the bit about the archer and sent that along too.

2005: Burnt by unknown vandals reportedly dressed as Santa and the gingerbread man by shooting a flaming arrow at the goat at 21:00 on 3 December

Bucky added a few laughing emojis and an archer that Stark had created just for the latest line of Stark phones.

Friends of yours? He asked.

The ellipsis that meant someone was typing started and stopped several times, long enough for Bucky to wonder if he’d actually offended Clint, something he’d previously thought impossible. Before he could decide whether or not to apologize, Natasha sent a picture.

It was clearly a photo of a photo and it showed-

It showed her and Clint, dressed up as Santa Claus and the goddamn Gingerbread Man, arms thrown around each other and grinning like the cats that ate the canary.

“Oh no,” Kate whispered and flopped down beside Bucky. “I think it’s happening again.” 

Bucky, who had stared in his beer, looked up and realized she sat beside him on the couch. He had tried to find a place where he could be alone for a few moments. Difficult, given that they were at a party in their dorm right now, but he needed a few moments to mope alone. 

“Huh?” he asked and looked at the young woman who just chewed on a pretty tattered straw.

She nodded at someone at the other end of the room. Bucky turned his head and saw three people talking. 

One of them was Clint. Bucky would recognize him anywhere. The other one was Scott. Bucky didn’t like him and he almost growled when he saw Clint close to him. 

“What are you talking about?” Bucky asked and stared at the woman who talked to the two of them. He only saw the back of her head. 

“That’s Hope van Dyne,” Kate said and pointed at her. “She’s new here. She’s in one of our classes and he invited her.” 

Bucky sighed. Of course Clint invited her. He always brought new people to the parties they had here even if Steve had said it’s only for the students who lived in this dorm. 

“Coulson’s class,” Kate explained when Bucky frowned at her. 

“I don’t care which class!” he snapped. “I want to know what you mean with ‘it’s happening again’!”

“Really?” Kate asked and turned her head to look at Clint, Scott and Hope. Scott smiled a lot when she talked and Hope just laughed at something he said. And Clint? He stood beside them like the 5th wheel. “I mean, I know that you know…” she gestured with her finger and Bucky’s frown deepened. She took a deep breath. 

“He’s dated Pepper, introduced her to Tony and now she’s together with Tony,” Kate counted on her fingers. “He’s dated Bobbi and Bobbi is together with Hunter nowadays. He’s dated Natasha and Natasha is together with Sam, he’s dated Steve and…” 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Bucky hissed. He knew exactly how many people Clint had dated since he was here, he’s his roommate after all. “I get it.” 

“And here we go,” Kate sighed and nodded again in Clint’s direction. Scott and Hope talked to each other while Clint shifted from one foot to the other before he eventually went to the bar. He started to rummage for something to drink.

“Yep,” she said when she followed him with her eyes. “That’s another one.” 

Bucky pressed his lips together and glared at Scott now. And if looks could kill the guy would’ve burnt to ash in an instant. But he didn’t look over to him, he just talked to that woman and Bucky saw that they really got along like a house on fire. 

“Why have you never made a move?” Kate suddenly asked and Bucky could literally feel the heat in his cheeks. 

“What?” he croaked, cleared his throat and said it again, “What?” 

“I mean...” Kate just ignored his question. “I can see the way you look at him… and at everyone he’s dating.” 

“I have no…” Bucky tried. 

“And I know he likes you, too, he’s…” 

“What?” Bucky asked again.

“What?” Kate frowned.

“He… he what?” Bucky said and looked from her to Clint and back. “We’re just friends and he…” 

“Oh god,” Kate interrupted him. “Please tell me you’re kidding!”

Bucky furrowed his brows. 

“That dumbass has the hots for you since he first met you but he thinks you’re straight but…” Kate babbled. Bucky glared another long moment before he rose and went to the bar, too. Clint still searched for something but when he sensed him, he turned around. 

“Hey,” he said, a sad smile on his lips. “You haven’t seen the vodka, have you?” 

Bucky looked over his shoulder, saw Natasha and pointed at her. Clint looked, too, saw the bottle in her hand and sighed. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled. 

“I don’t think you should drink vodka right now,” Bucky said and licked his lips. Clint swallowed and watched Scott talk to Hope and laughed bitterly. 

“I think I should,” he said. “I’m an idiot and I will die alone and…” 

“I… uh… I think I need a coffee and… you… uh… wanna come?” Bucky asked before he could back out again. Clint blinked a few times. 

“You mean… just you… and me?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “There’s something I want to tell you.” 

Clint scrutinized him for a very long moment and when Bucky just wanted to apologize and leave he eventually nodded. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Sounds like a good idea.” 

Part 1

“Where are we?” Clint asked when Bucky stopped the stolen van in front of a gate. The wrought iron fence was rusty and appeared rundown but Clint could see high-tech security systems hidden in the trees and he was pretty sure the fence wasn’t as dilapidated as it seemed.

“This is a safe place,” Bucky said cryptically. He rolled down the window and pressed the bell button. It took a few moments but then the old intercom came alive.

“Yeah?” Someone asked and Bucky leaned over.

“It’s me, Bucky,” he said. “Can you let me in?”

“Who’s with you?” the voice asked and now Clint knew whoever was inside watched the gate closely.

“A friend,” Bucky said.

“A friend?” the voice asked again and now Bucky rolled his eyes and sighed audibly.

“Goddammit, Steve! Open the damn gate or I swear to god…”

The gate started to creak and then it rolled aside slowly. Bucky muttered something unintelligible under his breath but started the engine and drove through the gate onto the compound.

“I’m not sure I should be here,” Clint said quietly. “It seems I’m not welcome here.”

“Steve’s a punk,” Bucky grumbled.

“But…”

“We’re safe here,” Bucky said. He followed the small road and a few minutes later Clint’s jaw fell. There was a modern building on and opening between the trees and Bucky stopped the car in front of it. Two men waited for them, one huge and blond, the other one black and with an eyepatch.

“Fuck,” Bucky sighed, killed the engine and opened the door. “Hey, Stevie,” he said and the blond guy’s scowl deepened. They both exited the car and Clint pulled the coat he wore to hide his wings tighter around himself.

“You can’t just bring strangers here,” he growled and Clint raised his hackles. The growl sounded… dangerous.

“Clint,” Bucky said and pointed at him, “That’s Steve,” he said and pointed at the blond guy. “Steve, Clint,” he said then. “And this is Nick Fury,” he introduced the black guy with the eyepatch. Fury scrutinized him, sniffed and then came closer with a growl, too.

“What happened to you, Barnes?” he snapped. “You smell different.”

“I had an encounter with HYDRA, sir,” Bucky admitted immediately. Clint wasn’t sure but he thought it sounded a little bit submissive. The black guy’s growl intensified and he looked at him with flaring nostrils.

“You’re not a human,” he stated and glared down at Clint. “What are you?”

“He’s a friend,” Bucky said again. “He helped me escape from HYDRA.”

“That was not the question,” Fury snapped. “What are you?”

Clint looked at Bucky and when he nodded Clint took a deep breath and removed the coat, spread his wings for a second before he folded them behind his back.

Steve sucked in the air audibly.

“HYDRA did this to him,” Bucky explained. “And he can not only fly, he’s an extraordinary marksman, too.”

“Is that so?” Fury asked now.

“Give me a bow and I’ll prove it,” Clint said. He held Fury’s eye and didn’t blink.

“A bow, huh?” he asked. Clint nodded.

“He can help us,” Bucky said. “He hates HYDRA as much as we hate them.”

“Is that so?” Fury asked again. His nostrils still moved and he took in Clint’s scent.

“I never asked to be strapped to a table and turned into a freak but well, here I am. If I can do something to shut them down…”

“I want Banner to take a look at him,” Fury interrupted him with a look in Bucky’s direction. He turned around and went into the building but the blond guy stayed back.

“I’m glad you’re okay, even if you smell different now,” Steve said slowly.

“HYDRA did something to me, too,” Bucky said. Steve nodded and stepped aside. He gestured at the door for the two to follow him inside.

“Tony and Bruce will look you over, too,” he said. “And welcome to SHIELD, Clint.”

James looked at his watch for the third time in the last five minutes. His contact should be here already. He hated it when people were late. He looked around the bar, looked at the people here. It was an unparalleled shithole. All the people here - himself included - were lowlife. Thugs, assassins, hitmen, thiefs, hijacker, crooked cops, whatever you can come up with. The owner was a former mercenary who lost his arm when he placed a bomb in a police station in Guatemala. Add some prostitutes - young girls and boys, barely legal - and the cauldron was complete.

Once again James looked at his watch and the man was still not here. With an angry huff he rose and threw a few bills on the table. No one would take the money but the waitress, he knew that.

He would leave. When his contact couldn’t be punctual, he would have to find someone else. On his way out of the bar he went to the restroom. He wanted to wash his hands. He always felt dirty here.

But just when he had switched on the water, he heard a fist connect with a body and a cry. It sounded as if someone got beaten up in the backyard. Usually James would ignore it, but the voice of the beaten up person sounded very young. When there was something he hated even more than unreliability then it was when kids got beaten. He dried his hands and went to the backdoor where he saw three grown up men beat a teenager to a pulp. The boy lay on the ground, covered his head and cried in pain.

“You are completely useless, aren’t you?” One of the men spat and kicked the boy in his stomach. But just when he wanted to kick him again, James was on him, grabbed him at the shoulder and spun him around. Before the man could say a word, James had planted his artificial fist in his face and he could hear his jaw and his nose break. The two other men turned to him now but before they could even land a blow, James had knocked them out, too.

The boy lay on the floor, whimpering, and when James hunkered down beside him he shrank back.

“Shhh, I won’t hurt you,” he said quietly but it seemed as if the boy didn’t hear him. James touched his shoulder gently and the boy spun around, stared at him with wide eyes. He raised both hands and repeated, “I won’t hurt you.”

The boy’s eyes twitched and James realized, that he stared at his lips. “Are you deaf?” He asked and signed his question at the same moment. “I won’t hurt you,” he said and signed again.

James held his hand out and after a very long moment, the boy took it. He lifted him up and held him, when he swayed. “What happened here?” He asked and signed.

‘They were angry because I refused to kill someone,’ the boy signed. So yes, deaf, maybe even mute.

“You should kill someone?” James asked baffled. The boy looked as if he was sixteen at most.

‘I refused because he didn’t deserve it,’ the boy signed. James scrutinized him. Something was really odd with him. The boy looked around, saw a long, black case and limped to it. Carefully he opened it and James saw a bow in it. James’s brain screeched to a halt. He touched the boy’s shoulder and when he looked at him again, he asked and signed, “Is that your bow?”

The boy nodded and scratched the back of his neck, winced in pain and nodded again. James blinked a few times. He had heard from a hitman with a bow and people said he never missed.

“Hawkeye?” he asked and after another long moment the boy nodded. “How old are you?” he blurted.

‘Nineteen,’ Hawkeye signed.

“I think we should get you patched up,” he said and signed. “And then we should talk about a job.”

‘A job? What job?’ Hawkeye wanted to know and frowned. James smiled a bit.

“A job… or better a partnership,” he said. “My name is James, friends call me Bucky, my employers Winter Soldier.” The boy’s eyes went comically wide. In their line of business everyone had heard from the Winter Soldier. But James had heard from Hawkeye, too. People said he never misses. Never. And he could need someone with his talent on his side. He held his hand out for the boy to take it and he did.

With a smile and a slightly shaky voice he said, “Clint.” And then he smiled.