Chapter 1
The worst vibrations that ever existed rang through Clint Barton's body. Any other reason would have been happily accepted by him, but nope, it was that dreaded time of day again. Stakeout Time! was the name of the damn alarm but it was the furthest thing from exclamation for the poor man.
All he wanted to do at this exact moment was fall back asleep and ignore the alarm but he stuck it through. It was 5 am in New York, the people who aimed to remove the Brooklyn Bridge from Clint's commute must have adjusted to the jet lag by now. So up to the rooftops it was for Clint. Stakeouts! are very important in his line of work, because bursting into places without plans was meant for Kate.
Hell's Kitchen is beautiful at night, but no time for that. He has to focus on kicking ass and taking names, where did he even here that from, and finding that idiot Daredevil.
In the 8 nights Clint had been staking out! he hadn't seen Daredevil once. This was supposed to be his territory, yet he was nowhere to be found. Less work for him to deal with another vigilante, but still an annoyance as Clint had to deal with all the other bad guys in the neighborhood along with the guys he was tracking.
At the Current Moment, not any other criminal activity was happening except the one Clint was tracking. Well, Clint wasn't tracking it, more like Ronin was. Ronin never really died in him, only left dormant waiting for the right crime to set him ablaze again. And this was most definitely the right crime. They were going straight for Clint's heart, his methods of transportation, and were also killing people. And they were fucking up his sleep schedule, but it was mostly about the people.
Clint remained crouched on the roof he was looking from, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. How could I miss that, unless the person has silent footsteps, my hearing aids are on. He readied his stance and whipped his head around to face the figure.
There stood the seemingly missing vigilante wearing the ugliest costume Clint had ever seen. Matt winced once he heard Clint's groan at his suit.
"That bad, huh?" Clint shook his head, "You don't know the half of it. But that's besides the point, where have you been, Matt?" Matt replied with a wave of the hand, "I do have a life out of Superheroism-" "Vigilante Work." "Same thing, my friend, but yes I am quite popular at my day job and had things to do. The question I should be asking is why are you here in this part of town?" Clint rolled his eyes at his question and went back to his position.
"Not answering? Ok, I'll leave, but just so you know, they're behind that building there." He answered, pointing at the diner next to the building Clint was watching. Clint sighed and angled himself towards the place Matt pointed out.
Matt turned to walk away, when Clint gave a sigh of resignation and called him over. He gleefully bounced over the taller man and laid down beside him. This act of childlessness prompted a shake of the head from Clint, the lack of sleep was getting to him and now came a red child to babysit.
Matt noticed it a split second before Clint did. The bullet piercing through the air, hurtling in their direction. How did they even notice us, we made no mistakes. They both took cover behind an air vent while a barrage of bullets came their way.
They huddled in close together as the vent wasn't big enough. Matt felt the cloth of Clint's suit and realized quickly this wasn't The Mighty Avenger Hawkeye work, This was like his revenge era, and honestly it was kinda hot.
Having two people doing this is too much, Clint reasoned. He definitely did not feel this way due to the fact Clint was watching this shorter, stupidly dressed, stupidly attractive, stick his hand out every 2 seconds to feel the rush of air whenever bullets passed by seemingly for fun. Matt noticed the bullets first so this might just be hyperactivity, typical of some vigilantes he knew, Spiderman, cough.
What was just going to be a normal sleep deprived night for Clint turned out to be livelier than he expected. There wasn't a god out there that could help him, and he knew gods. He turned his head towards the bright red spotlight who had his finger to his lips, something stupid was about to happen.
This big red target moved from behind the air vent and moved in front of the highly reflective air vent grate. He then did a little dance, for the fans, of course. It instantly attracted the attention of the assailants who fired at him, but missed as he quickly took cover behind the vent. This act of brazen carelessness was so unlike Daredevil that it amused Clint to no end. As soon as he let out a laugh, barely disguised as a huff, the other man beamed.
Clint couldn't help but be amazed. This was the same scourge of Hell's Kitchen that just threatened getting shot to hear him laugh, he must be stupid, but damn, that smile is bright. Nope, No! This is no time to be making friends! We gotta focus, People are in danger.
The roof suddenly shook with repeated footfalls. They were fucking crawling up the roof. They took it as their cue to leave.
All I wanted to do was have one quiet night, now we're being chased. I could sigh for the rest of my life and it still wouldn't be enough.
Daredevil ran ahead first, grabbing Ronin's hand, pulling him along. Matt flashed him a smile and yelled, "Come on!" Clint wasn't ready for it at all which lead to an awkward dragging situation, which still allowed for speed.
You know what, this wasn't as bad as I thought, I was so overreacting. Let me hold on tighter, for safety reasons.
Matt felt the grip on his hand get tighter and took that as confirmation to run faster. With no bullets coming at them, It was getting increasingly easier to maneuver through the roofs. That was the case until, there was a particularly large gap between roofs that was impossible to jump across.
They both turned to face the attackers, with Matt still hanging onto Clint's hand, writing in it. FAKE FIGHT. GET TAKEN. GET INFO. FIGHT. LEAVE. Clint nodded and got his bow from his back while Matt readied his nunchucks before they heard a familiar voice.
"STOP CHASING THOSE IDIOTS, COME TO FISK TOWER, THERE'S WORK TO BE DONE." The booming voice of Wilson Fisk came over the grunts' walkie-talkies and they quickly left to attend to him.
Matt fake winced, "Ouch, idiots. You hear that, Clint, Wilson Fisk called us idiots." He turned to face Clint and shot him a smile that could outshine the sun and slowly, raised the hand that he was still holding onto up to his lips, kissing it softly. He then let go of his hand, and jumped to the roof they had been chased on earlier, before yelling across the empty air, "SEE YOU TOMORROW, SAME TIME SAME PLACE."
Clint stood in the same spot for a few minutes, processing the whole day. He turned to go home but stopped to check his watch, 6:30 am. The faintest hints of yellow brushed against the remainder of night, dark purple hues engulfing the world. All he did was breathe the cold morning air, and look up to the sky. There was no answer that was found when he was looking up, so he brought himself down and went for the nearest A train.