Chapter 1
Waverly, Iowa. Population 1,260. Other than the banner that hangs in the village green in the center of town that reads Baseball City U.S.A., not much else can be said about the town. It's small enough that the cliche, everybody knows everybody, is glaringly true. That also means that everyone knows everyone else's demons. Clint Barton has a good many demons that he faces everyday. They all stem from his childhood in this town. However, the vacancy of the sheriff's seat offered him exactly the change of pace he was looking for after spending the past seven years of his life with the CIA. It was however, some masochistic higher power that intervened in him buying his family's old farmhouse. Every room holds a different memory. Memories of bloody noses, split lips, and broken bones.
Maybe he just wants to replace the bad memories with new ones. Happy ones. Natasha is making that possible. The couple found out they were pregnant with their first child just two weeks ago, and every day since, his four deputies and their significant others have been over to help with the nursery. They decided to do the room in white and yellow. Not that it really mattered, but neither were defined by a gender. They were also bright and warm and free. Clint wants his child to know that they will always be safe. He will be the father that he never had.
It's a beautiful spring afternoon. The type of day where every business, office, and home in the town has their front door wide open.
Natasha just finished with her last patient for the day, and is planning on sending Wanda home early, and has already started to close up shop. The girl is young and stubborn, but Nat can't help but feel maternal towards her. She and her twin brother Pietro were just about born into foster care. They had been here in Waverley for four years, the longest they have stayed in one place in their young lives. Speaking of Pietro, Nat hears his set ringtone playing on Wanda's phone in the next room over, and a few seconds later Wanda conveniently steps through the threshold into her office.
"Doctor Romanov, that was my math tutor. He showed up at my house early today and wants to get started as soon as possible."
Wanda is suspiciously looking everywhere but at Natasha, and she laughs in spite of herself. Might as well have a little fun with this.
"Oh is that right? And he has the same ringtone as Pietro, does he?"
As expected, Wanda is sporting a very guilty look. Her voice is much smaller, making Nat want to wrap her up in a hug.
"There's going to be a big talent scout at the game today, and if I leave now I can make it in time."
Nat just closes up her laptop and tosses an envelope to Wanda.
"You've been here every day this week, sweetheart. Go enjoy yourself. Just make sure my husband gets that letter. It's his new dietary plan courtesy of yours truly."
The smile the girl is wearing is enough to make Natasha's heart completely melt.
"I will, ma'am! Thank you!"
"No more chocolate. No more caffeine. No more mint? What the Hell? No more spicy or oily foods. Well, shit. Looks like I'll be eating rabbit food for the rest of my life. I'm too young for this, Steve. I should be able to eat and drink what I want, when I want. I'll take a large cup of Joe. Cream and sugar please."
The young deputy just rolls his eyes exasperatedly at the sheriff placing his order. His smile is genuine, though. That's what Clint likes about him the most. He's always happy. Always smiling. He's simply just a good man. He and his fiancé, Bucky (the town's M.E.) are also Clint and Natasha's best friends in this town.
"Now, didn't you just say no caffeine? And then immediately order a cup of coffee? I should call Nat right now and tell her."
Clint just waves him off dismissively.
"You do that and I'll make Thor my lead deputy. Come to think of it, where the Hell is he?"
Steve points to somewhere behind Clint's head, and the sheriff turns to see the young man being sickeningly adorable with his girlfriend, Jane Foster, the school's vice principal.
"Yup. I should have seen that coming."
The stands are overflowing with family and friends that are here supporting the baseball team. The town has clinched the play offs every year since 1973. The team this year is no exception thanks to Pietro. He's a star pitcher in the most natural sense of the word. He also has the crowd on their feet, just having struck out another player on the opposing team.
"Kid pitches fast."
Clint laughs to himself before turning to respond to Steve.
"Drives fast too."
The familiar sound of leather dress shoes hitting concrete fills the air, as the school principal, Harold Hogan comes over to greet the officers.
"Sheriff! Just wanted to let you know that I opened up a running tab at the snack bar! You won't have to pay for coffee all season!"
The two friends share a knowing smile before turning to Happy.
"Don't think that's going to get you out of your speeding ticket, pal. I can't stretch the rules, not even for friends."
The principal sighs dramatically before smiling again and patting them both on the shoulder.
"Alright, alright. That's fair. Can I at least request that the money from the ticket goes to Natasha's baby shower and Steve's wedding?"
Clint looks to be actually considering the offer before taking another swig of coffee.
"I'll take it up with the mayor."
All three men are startled back into the present by the roaring audience again. Pietro just needs one more strike to get the third out.
Clint feels a hand on his shoulder, and is surprised to see Thor standing behind him. The man's expression is unreadable; Not the warm smile he was wearing with Jane a few minutes ago. He leans down to speak in a low voice in Clint's ear.
"Center field."
Erik Selvig is a man that Clint has dealt with before. He used to drink.
A lot.
He and his deputies were always being called to pick him up from the alley he passed out in, or the front porch he threw up on, or the mayor's expensive car he took a piss on.
What chills Clint to his core is the shotgun in the man's hands.
"Keep everyone back, Thor. Steve, you get those boys off the field."
His cup of coffee is abandoned on the pavement as he takes off towards center field.
"Selvig, What the Hell are you doing? We're playing a game of baseball, and you come out here with a shotgun?"
Clint is taken back to seven years old. The look Erik is wearing mirrors perfectly the cold and cruel stare that his father used to sport while beating the crap out of him. He can only assume that the horrible memories are the reason he is slowly reaching for his pistol. He can here Thor and Steve in the background doing crowd control, and starts to inch closer toward the intruder.
"Erik, you're drunk. That's all. You had one too many drinks, but that's alright. One slip up isn't anything to beat yourself up over. Put the gun down."
Clint feels tremors run through his body. He thinks he was wrong a few moments ago. He used to be able to see the hate and rage in his father's eyes. He can't see anything in this stare. There is lifelessness in Erik's eyes, and it is the most terrifying thing that the sheriff has ever seen.
"Put the gun down. Now. Erik, put. the gun. down."
His heart stops beating in his chest when the man actually raises the gun towards his head.
A single shot rings out for miles around, and as the horrified screams swell like a symphony, Clint realizes he just put a bullet into the man's chest.
He's on his knees over top the man in an instant, but he is already gone. He feels Steve's hand grasp his shoulder, and rises back to his feet.
"Get these.... Dammit. Get these kids out of here."
Clint can't help but shutter at the body on the table in front of him. He was just serving at a soup kitchen with the guy not three weeks ago, and he put a bullet in him.
"I'll have the blood-alcohol results in the morning. I took a saliva sample as well just to be thorough. Make sure there was nothing else in his system."
Clint is thankful that Bucky is wearing a warm smile and talking strictly business right now. He's not quite ready to talk about the events of earlier that day. That would make them all too real.
Steve enters the room, and slowly shuts the door behind him.
"Boss, Darcy is here. She seems pretty adamant about wanting to speak with you."
Clint feels his entire being screaming at him to stay hidden away in this room, but his feet carry him toward the door regardless. Bucky and Steve stay close in toe, and he steps out into the parlor to see the Reverend Jasper Sitwell speaking to Darcy.
She looks absolutely broken. This, the same girl who spread her wings and left town to make a name for herself as a lead journalist for TIME magazine. The same girl who had more confidence and spunk then anyone in Waverly.
She had just gotten home four days ago, and Clint went and shot and killed her father.
He's vaguely aware of Sitwell's hand on his shoulder, but spares no look at the man as he speaks.
"Maybe now's not the best time, sheriff."
"Darcy, I'm so sorry. I really liked Erik. He was my friend, you have to understand that."
When she spoke, Clint could hear her broken heart barely beating.
"What was he doing out there?"
Silence. He can't bring himself to say it.
"We think he was under the influence."
She stares daggers at the sheriff, and he feels the rage emanating from her small body.
"He has been sober for two years. He was so damn proud, you know this! Thor was taking him to his AA meetings every week."
Clint tries to rest a hand on her shoulder, but she shies away.
"Is that what you're saying? That's what you're telling everybody? The town drunk tries to go on a shooting rampage, so the sheriff has to save the day?"
The slap lands directly across his face before he even sees it coming. Darcy is out the door a moment later.
The incessant beeping from the next room over means that the scan that Bucky had running on the saliva sample is finished.
He grabs the still warm paper as it exits the printer.
He has to read the paper three or four times to truly grasp what it says.
"Traces of rhabdovirdae. What the Hell?"
He grabs his keys, makes sure everything is locked up, exits the building, and walks over to the Ford truck sitting alongside the curb.
He smiles when Steve cups their hands together and pulls his up to place a soft kiss on his knuckles.
"Babe, drive us over to see Kara. I need to ask her a few questions."
Steve is giving him a strange look, and Bucky either wants to slap or kiss it off of him.
"You need to talk to the veterinarian about the scan you did on Selvig?"
"Well, seeing as he may have had a severe case of rabies, yeah. I kind of do."