"What's with the silence? Want me to say their names as well? Cooper. Lila. My memory might be a bit off, but that's them, right?"
Clint nearly choked upon hearing the names of his kids come up.
Cooper and Lila. Nobody other than he, his wife, Nat and Fury were supposed to know those names.
He was never supposed to have heard it from a random stranger on Coulson's earpiece in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico.
He kept a tight grip on the bow, holding it in place so perfectly still he could be mistaken for a statue.
Outside, nothing had changed. His breathing remained steady, and his eyes remained focused.
But on the inside, every alarm he had was going off simultaneously.
Someone knew. Someone skilled enough to walk into a S.H.I.E.L.D. op, handle a room of trained agents and take Phil Coulson hostage.
And if one person knew, that meant any number of people could know.
"They're fine." He spoke calmly, not revealing how deeply the man's words had shaken him. "And who are you supposed to be?"
"That's the question you ask? Whatever, I got what I wanted from here, so I'll be taking my leave now."
Clint couldn't help but tighten his grip even further as the man spoke in an utterly cavalier manner.
"You think I'm gonna let you leave without a fight after you say something like that to me?"
"Well, I'm being totally honest here, I just wanted to scare you a little. I didn't mean anything by it. You could just consider this as an introduction for now."
Right now, Clint's anger was climbing higher and higher. Whoever this man was, he had dropped information regarding his family like a bombshell, and now he was trying to act like it was a joke? His fucking family?
"Right, I'll be off then, yeah? And don't even think about following me. If I don't make it back to my people in time, they'll be sending little Cooper and Lila to their early graves."
The silence that followed was the loudest thing Clint had ever heard.
His knuckles had gone white around the bow. The arrow was drawn, the angle was there, he had a shot on the command tent exit, and every single instinct he had was screaming at him to take it.
He didn't move.
"Well, I'm going to take that silence as a yes."
Then, through the gap in the command tent flap, he caught a glimpse of a figure walking out into the compound with his hands in his pockets.
Completely relaxed.
He wasn't running or trying to cover himself in any way. Rather, the man moved as if he wasn't threatened in the slightest.
Just walking.
Clint tracked him flawlessly, with a jaw so tight it ached.
The figure glanced upwards briefly, a flash of red visible through the slits of the mask, and gave a casual wave.
Then he disappeared into the dark beyond the floodlights.
"Phil." He called his friend and superior through the earpiece, his voice perfectly level despite everything that had just occurred. "He's heading east on foot."
"I heard." Coulson's voice was calm. "Stand down, Barton."
"Sir-"
"Stand down."
With his head practically vibrating with rage, he lowered the bow.
For a long moment, he stood there in the raised container, alone in the dark, soaked in rain, completely ignoring the blonde idiot trying to pick up the hammer.
He looked into the darkness where the man disappeared.
His children's names, spoken by a stranger's voice.
On this day, he made an oath, not just for his own sake, but for the sake of those he loved.
He was going to find out who that was.
---
"Oooooh fuck."
I had to leave the state IMMEDIATELY.
To say the least, I had gotten extremely carried away and had said some things that couldn't exactly be taken back now.
I wanted to see Thor's film play out, but uh...right now, I had bigger things to worry about.
Patching up my shoulder with the first aid kit I kept in my car, I finally went through the FP windows that had built up throughout the night whilst driving through the desert.
The chances of S.H.I.E.L.D. following me were low; the final threat I had made would ensure that they'd be cautious.
[You induced fear in 6 level 4 agents within the command tent! +480 FP]
[You induced fear in Phil Coulson, a Level 8 S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent! +2,100 FP]
[You inspired immense fear into Clint Barton, a future Avenger! +20,000 FP]
[Congratulations! You have created your first Nemesis! Any FP gained from a Nemesis is tripled!]
[Nemesis identified: Clint Barton (Hawkeye)]
[Avengers Quest Progress Updated! Hawkeye: 1/1]
"Oh boy."
The FP gains were immense, way beyond anything I had ever previously made, but the price was clear.
I had no idea how I'd ever get on good terms with Hawkeye.
The dude was literally my Nemesis now, which was fair enough from his end; he had every right to hate my guts.
"Okay, first things first."
I decided to stop thinking about the issue I had just caused, instead choosing to try and deal with something in my control.
[Fear Point Balance: 28,321]
My plan, if it could even be called that, was honestly speaking a complete atrocity. I had recklessly run into the S.H.I.E.L.D. base, gotten myself hit by an arrow, and... started a one-on-one war against Hawkeye. In the end, I managed to bluff my way out, but being wounded by a mere arrow reminded me of my mortality.
"No fucking way I'm gonna die to Hawkeye of all people."
For a while now, I had been strolling around like I was invincible, a fact which was, well, not even close to true.
So, if I'm not invincible, I can at least bring it slightly closer to being true, right?
I looked through my system interface, searching for any type of passive body enhancement that could fix my squishiness.
[A/N: YOU GIVE ME IDEAS!]