I'm so sorry I haven't posted in so long! I have no excuse, I kinda just couldn't find the motivation... and then my laptop was broken... point is, I'm back! Enjoy the chapter!
Also, TW for a panic attack.

Next one up is a scene about Clint. Voice says. 

"Ah ha!" Tony said, rubbing his hands together and cackling maniacally. "Give me all the dirt!"

Clint sounded unusually subdued when he spoke up. "What year is this in?" He asked.

There was a pause, and Voice eventually replied, 1984.

Clint drew in a sharp breath, and ran a hand through his short hair. "Clint? You okay?" Sam asked, concerned. Clint forced a smile.

"You'll see, I think." 

Everyone turned back to the screen with renewed interest as the video began to play.

https://youtu.be/LI8A4o80-04

The scene started up at a carnival, showing a large spinner, panning down to display a carousel. The words 1984 appeared on screen.

"You're old, Katniss." Tony said smugly.

"Yeah, like you're in your twenties?" Clint retorted.

"Shut up, both of you." Nat said, half affectionately- but they had all learnt to take her seriously when it came to her threats. They both snapped their mouths shut from what was sure to become a long, boring argument.

The screen shows a large crowd of people, finally coming to rest on a young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties, and a little boy, seven or eight years old. They walk together, looking around excitedly.

"Is that you, Friend Clint?" Thor exclaims, looking delighted. 

"You were so cute!" Nat cooed with a delighted, if not slightly mischievous, smile on her face.

"Shut up." Clint grumbles half-heartedly.

"Who's that woman, Barton?" Fury asked suddenly.

"My mum." Clint said, allowing himself a small smile. She'd done the best she could to raise him around a shitty, abusive dad, before running away with no money, no food, and no place to sleep. All in all, especially considering the circumstances, she'd done a pretty good job.

A/N: We're just gonna call Clint's mum Edith, okay? I'm too lazy to write 'Clint's mum' every time -_-

Edith: Well, I think it's because he helped so many people.
Clint: But why did he use a bow and arrow and not a gun?

Bucky snorted, amused smirk on his face. "That's rich coming from you."

Clint shot him a playfully angry glare.

Edith: Clint, I don't think they had guns in the Middle Ages.
Clint: Why is it called the Middle Ages? Are we living in the Big Ages?
Edith: No, maybe the Late Ages, I don't know.
Suddenly, they both bumped into a tall guy with grunts. 
Edith: Oh, I'm so sorry.
The guy: Are you okay?
Edith: Oh no, I'm thrilled, my head is spinning trying to keep up with this guy.
She put a hand on Clint's shoulder.

Fury and Nat grinned in unison. "Sounds like you." Nat commented.

The guy smiled, pointing a playful finger after them.
The guy: Hey, don't you wear your sister out!
Clint half-turned back to where the guy was still standing. 
Clint: She's my mum!

Edith put a hand in his shoulder, continuing to hurry him away. She muttered to him in a low voice.
Edith: Don't keep the conversation going.

Everyone looked either confused or concerned. "What the hell does that mean?" Fury growled. He could deny it all he wanted, but he had his favourite agents: Nat, Clint and Phil being among them.

Clint: Right, sorry.
Edith sighed heavily, throwing her head back in annoyance as she checked a wallet. She took some money out then threw the wallet in a nearby bin.
Edith: Only a few bucks.
Clint suddenly stopped, and Edith stopped with him. He slowly brought up his hand, revealing a shining golden watch as a grin spread across his face. Edith crouched beside him, delighted.
Edith: That's my little guy!

"Wait, wait, wait." Tony held up his hands in a 'time- out gesture. "You were both pickpocketing? And she encouraged you?"

"It's what we did to survive." Clint said stiffly. "I'm sure you'll see."

Tony looked regretful, and opened his mouth to apologize, but Clint cut him off. 

"It's fine."

As if by some unknown agreement, the video continued playing.

Clint: Did I do a good job?

Edith: You did a great job. Hey, let's go play some games, you earned it.
Clint, with a wide smile on his face, ran off ahead, Edith looking after him before following.
The scene changed. Edith and Clint were now standing in front of a carnival game, several fake plastic guns resting on the counter before them.
Game guy: Three shots, try your luck! Hit a duck.
Edith: You got it.
Clint took the gun in hand, squinting as he lined it up with his target. Ducks were slowly moving by on the opposite wall from Clint. The entire frame suddenly sharpened, showing the world from Clint's point of view.

Sam lifted an eyebrow, letting out a whistle."Impressive." He commented.

Clint gave him a nod of thanks, his entire body still seeming wound up and tense.

Clint shot a pellet, but missed.
Carnival guy: Bad luck, big shot. Two left.
Edith: There's no luck about it, my kid never misses! Your game is rigged.

Everyone turned to Clint.

"That's who you got that saying from?" 

Clint was unsure who said it- his entire world was becoming blurred. Black spots were dancing in his vision as rapid breaths tore themselves from his throat, eyes watering as he struggled to breathe. You never miss. You never miss. Younevermiss. Younevermissyounevermissyounevermiss- 

The words echoed over and over in his head as he began hyperventilating. The feeling of cool metal in his hands... his readiness to kill... the shattering of glass as the bullet tore through the window...

Clint became distantly aware someone was speaking to him. Grabbing his hand in theirs. He let out a high pitch whine, like a cornered animal at the sudden contact made him recoil, tears running down his cheeks by now, leaving trails of moisture as he curled up, shuddering, black crowding in his vision. 

All of a sudden, green tendrils wrapped round his body- emerald green, waving softly as they soothed every area of his body they touched. Clint found himself relaxing, breaths coming easier. He looked up to see Loki's concerned face, and dark emerald eyes watching him carefully. Clint suddenly understood the tendrils of magic that had soothed him had been Loki's. Clint glanced back up at Loki's face, searching carefully for emotion aS he slowly uncurled from his fetal position. Clint was shocked to find not pity, not sadness, not even sympathy for him in Loki's endless eyes- just understanding. Simple as that.

Loki returned to his seat as Clint stared at the ground, unable to meet the others' gazes. 

"Clint-" Nat started. 

But, before she could continue, Voice interrupted. You may go to another room until the end of this scene, Clint. I apologize, your panic was most definitely not my intention.

Without another word, Clint rose to his feet and slipped through the door that had appeared on one of the far walls of the theater. The door disappeared behind him, and the screen flickered back to life.

A/N: Okay, and that's a wrap for today! I unfortunately did not have time to finish the entire thing, but I figured better to release what I have, right? Part 2 will be coming out as soon as I can manage- but that might be for a few days yet, sorry! Until then, I need your opinions on what ships to use in the story! Obviously Bucky and Steve are out of the picture- but the others are all in! Whichever three get the most votes, I will incorporate- eventually!

Clint/Loki

Tony/Loki

Tony/Strange

Clint/Nat

Bruce/Tony

Bruce/Nat

Sam/Clint

Any others you can think of?