1. Dad
”Y’all sh’d show me some r’spect!”
Dad’s voice was harsh and his words slurred together as he stood in the middle of the small living room, swaying on his feet, hands clenched into fists. Clint knew that, despite Dad was drunk, he was really fast, and it never took long for those fists to swing and slam painfully into him.
Barney had already fled and Mom was sobbing in the corner, which left Clint right in the middle of Dad’s path. His bloodshot stare had already narrowed on Clint, and he did the only thing he knew.
”Sorry, Dad,” Clint said softly, turned his head a little, and closed his eyes. ”I didn’t mean no disrip— disric— dis-res-pect.”
”Th’fuck you did,” Dad growled as he lurched towards Clint.
2. God
The early morning sun painted the dust pecks golden, and Clint zeroed his stare on them, following their easy dance in the air. It was a lot more interesting than the droning of the priest, and it drew his attention away from the throbbing pain still lingering around his body.
To his side, Barney was slouched on the pew, snoring quietly. His mouth hung open a bit and Clint could see a thin dribble of drool making it’s way down Barney’s chin. He grinned, ignoring how the motion pulled his split lip.
After the seventh round in an abusive foster home, the nuns had had pretty much given up the attempts on finding them a foster home. Clint couldn’t say he was exactly disappointed.
In the front of the church, the sermon had reached its pinnacle, and the old man’s feeble voice rose as he preached how only through loving and respecting God could the children find their way in the world.
Clint cocked his head and figured he and Barn must’ve disrespected God a lot already.
3. Trick Shot
Clint knew he had fucked up as soon as he saw the glint in Trick’s eyes.
He had tried, he really had, but his shots had landed three inches to the side. The audience didn’t realize anything, being too caught up with the flaming arrows raining over their heads into an almost perfect formation to pay attention to slightly wonky lines.
”You’re supposed to be better than that!” Trick snapped as he snatched the bow from his hands. ”What the hell was that?”
Clint didn’t know how to answer. ”Dunno,” he mumbled. ”Sorry.”
”You don’t know?”
Clint shrugged awkwardly.
”Hmph,” Trick harrumphed.
Then he slapped Clint on the chin.
”If you choose to disrespect me by being stupid, boy, at least be stupid with full sentences.”
Clint blinked to clear his vision and adjust to the stinging Trick’s hand had left behind. He raised his head, fixed his stare somewhere over Trick’s left shoulder and said, ”I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Trick nodded once and turned to go, leaving Clint to clear out the post-show mess. Clint watched him from the corner of his eye and wondered, what other kids did on their 13th birthday.
4. Barney
The kick landing on his side made pain shoot through his cracked ribs. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but the shallow cut on his brow bled enough to color everything murky red.
Or perhaps it was just the color of betrayal.
”What the fuck did you think you were doing?” Barney demanded. ”Did you really think we’d let you ruin our plans?”
”Barn…” Clint coughed wetly. His mouth tasted like blood.
”Fucking rat,” Barney sneered. ”Never had any respect for your betters, did you?”
Clint frowned and shook his head slowly, trying to clear the odd ringing noise from his ears. He didn’t understand what his brother was talking about. He had just wanted to ask what the hell was going on, why Trick and Barney were trying to ruin the circus with their scheming.
”Thought so,” Barney said.
Looking up at his brother, Clint never saw the boot coming from his other side. The whole left side of his head erupted in blinding white pain, and then everything went dark.
5. Natasha
Considering she was perhaps the deadliest thing on earth, Natasha Romanoff made a surprisingly adorable picture, sitting on his kitchen counter, wrapped up in Clint’s purple bathrobe, and a Hello Kitty band-aid on her nose.
It would’ve made Clint laugh unless he was sure she’d kill him for it.
”You have no respect for death, do you?” She asked, wrinkling her nose at the coffee Clint handed over.
He shrugged. ”I guess I lost respect on many things ages ago.”
She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes.
Turning away, he fiddled with something by the sink and ignored, pretending he didn’t hear her. He was pretty sure she knew only his left ear was deaf, but she let it pass.
+ 1: Coulson
”This isn’t right. Something isn’t right.”
”Do you have the shot, Agent?”
Clint gritted his teeth and braced himself. ”Yeah, I have it, but I won’t take it.”
The comm.line went silent for a moment.
Then Coulson’s voice called in, calm as always. ”Alright. I’m calling this off. Dismissed.”
Back in the base, Clint made his way to Coulson, bewildered about the easy dismissal of the mission. He was sure that, one way or the other, he was going to pay for it.
”Something in your mind, Barton?”
”Why did you call it off?” He blurted and then winced at the way it came out, whiny and petulant.
Coulson frowned. ”Because you said so.”
”But—”
”You are a professional, Clint,” Coulson interrupted. ”I respect you both as a person and a professional, and I trust your judgment on the field. You should know it by now.”
Clint stared.
”Now, if you’re free, how about you fill in your paperwork right away?”
Stunned, Clint sat down and started scribbling away his AAR.
He completely missed the shadow of a smile on Coulson’s face.