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Complicated

Chapter One

A/N: So, here's the first chapter of my new story, and it's the first Avengers story I have written, so forgive me if it's not very good. Let me know what you guys think :D

!#$%^

Normal. What exactly is normal? It could be many things, but I suppose the definition would vary depending on the person asked to describe it. But I know that whatever it was, I was never a part of it. I didn't exactly grow up in a 'normal' environment, what with my childhood having been spent in a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility and my brother being who he was, after all. Most agents tell me that I should be grateful to have a brother like Clint, but they must have severe head trauma or some similar injury to even think that.

Yeah, my big brother was Clint Barton, the great and mighty 'Hawkeye'. And I was Samantha Barton, useless younger sister. Believe it or not, we had been close as kids, but that soon changed when S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited him. He was a good brother, and made sure they took me in as well, but my job was nowhere near as glamorous as his own. He went on missions all over the world to take out national threats, and I was stuck getting all of the more important people their morning coffee.

Now, don't get me wrong, I am grateful for them taking us in, because we had nowhere else to go at the time. They had given us an option we hadn't thought possible, but that didn't mean that I have to like the position they gave me. But I suppose there was more to be grateful for.

I may have only been a coffee girl, but I had some knowledge of combat from my many years of working for S.H.I.E.L.D. and being trained by Clint.

Clint did his best as an older brother, and taught me all that he knew about archery, but I was never as good as him. Sure, I was probably better than your average person, but I came nowhere near the skill that Clint possessed.

But the martial arts were another matter entirely.

After a few years of giving advice and tips, he didn't have any more time to teach me anything more, so he left it to one of his best friends, Natasha Romanoff, otherwise known as the Black Widow. Now, at first I was absolutely terrified of her, and just the mere sight of her made my pulse quicken. But after a few lessons with her, and after I had my ass handed to me more times than I care to admit, I learned to live with her scary-ness.

It kind of grows on you. After a while, that is. I quickly got a hang of the moves she taught me, and was almost able to beat her a few times. Well, maybe a little less than almost. We didn't like each other, exactly, but we had grown to respect each other for the skill that we each possessed. In some ways, she had grown to be my role model. But then again, I really had no one else to look up to.

Someone once said to me that I was becoming a mini 'Widow', and I had to resist the urge to punch him in the face. I looked up to Natasha, sure, but I was nothing like her. I was overly sarcastic, where she was serious and all business. I hated S.H.I.E.L.D. with all of my heart, while Natasha dedicated all of her attention to her work. I had brown hair and blue eyes. She had red hair and hazel eyes. And I didn't get along with Clint, whereas she worked with him all of the time, and admired his skill.

Natasha was brilliant, but I was absolutely nothing like her.

I sighed, and continued walking down the hallway. Natasha was a morning person, and she always scheduled our sparring lessons early, forcing me to get up at an ungodly hour every couple of weeks. It really wasn't that bad, though, since we didn't do this too often. She was always busy with her missions around the world, but she somehow managed to make time for me every once in a while.

The lights were dim, as it was still dark outside, and I only passed a few people as I walked forward. I managed to get to the gym without being late, 4:30 on the dot. Natasha was standing on the other side of the gym with her hands held behind her back, studying the ground below her. She turned when she heard my footsteps, and nodded briskly at me.

"I have to be half way across the world in less than two hours, so let's try to make this quick," She spoke.

I gave her a drowsy smile, and stretched out my arms gently, trying to get them ready for fighting. If I was still stiff when we started fighting, she would have me down in no time at all. After a few minutes of some basic stretches, I jumped up and got into an offensive stance. I was usually the one who was on the defensive side, waiting for my opponent to make a mistake, to give me an opening that would give me the upper hand. Natasha told me that it was a good tactic, but I had to include more offensive moves if I wanted to make a real impact on the person I was fighting against.

Natasha was on me in an instant, and I only barely had time to block her strike. That was something that I would never get used to, no matter how many times I spar against her, the fact that the Widow was so fast. She let out a flurry of movements, and I tried my best to block all of them, but a kick managed to hit my unprotected side.

It only took a moment before the drowsy feeling completely left my body, and my training fully kicked in. I stopped thinking so much, and instead reacted, using my natural instincts to get ahead. I feigned an attack to her left, and almost hit her, before turning and landing a kick to her stomach, causing her to stumble backwards slightly.

I tried to take advantage of her temporary weakness, and punched outwards. It would have hit her had I been a second quicker, but as it was, she grabbed my hand and twisted it to the breaking point. Wincing, I knelt down and swerved my body around so that I could use my momentum to break her hold. I got away, and went to throw a kick at her legs, but she moved away from me, and countered with her own kick that successfully managed to knock me down onto the padded floor.

I jumped back up, but she sent another punch my way, one that I was only barely able to block in time. She threw another one, and it forced me onto my knees. I held my hands up over my face, trying to block all of her attacks. She kept attacking me, and it seemed like the fight was lost.

She knew that all I could do now was block her strikes, but she didn't stop. She never stopped without me saying something to her, which I wasn't about to do. My pride may end up being my downfall, but I never admitted defeat. I wouldn't, I couldn't really. Somehow, throughout the process of me getting my ass handed to me, my thoughts wandered over to Clint, and I came to a sudden realization.

My brother could hold his own in a fight with Natasha, so why couldn't I?

I began to get angry, completely unreasonable I know, but just knowing that my brother could do something that I couldn't made me mad. My cheeks heated with my fury, and I darted up from my kneeling position, swiftly thrusting my leg out and hitting Natasha in the stomach once again.

She stumbled back much like the time before, but this time she nearly fell down trying to regain her balance. I wasted no time, and launched myself at her the second her attacks stopped. I knocked her legs out from under her, and when she stood back up, I grabbed her shoulder and used my hold to launch myself over her.

Before she had a chance to face me, I used the opening she gave me and elbowed the back of her head. The force of the blow sent her to the ground, and I knew I had won. I was still slightly angry for some reason, my jaw clenched uncomfortably, but I had the sense to calm down. I took a deep breath, and held out a hand to the red head.

Natasha took my hand, and pulled herself up. She put a hand to the back of her head, as if she couldn't believe what I had done. She simply stared at me for a few seconds, before a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"You actually took me down," She looked me up and down.

"Do that more often." She commanded, before walking out of the room and out to the quinjet that was most likely waiting for her just outside.

After she was gone, I held a hand up in mock salute.

"Yes ma'am..." I muttered, before rubbing the tender skin of my left cheek.

Natasha had hit me pretty hard, and I knew that if I looked in the mirror I would probably see a bruise forming. Ignoring the pain that had spread through my already sore body, I headed out of the gym, thinking silently to myself.

I had no friends in S.H.I.E.L.D, which wasn't surprising, as they didn't exactly have other twenty something year olds running about. It sucked, and to add to that I was rarely ever allowed to leave the base, not even to go shopping for normal clothes.

For the first year they had forced me to wear their stupid little uniform, but after a while I had had enough of the itchy costume, and I (being the rebellious teenager I was) snuck out of the facility, even though it was 'forbidden'.

Now, even though the base I lived on wasn't too top secret (I think), and we didn't have anyone too important working here (I'm pretty sure), it is not in any way easy to sneak out. They had a surprising amount of security for just a bunch of unimportant tests and experiments, but I was able to sneak past most of the guards with the use of all of the moves Clint and Natasha had taught me.

It was actually amusing to watch them at first, as they were baffled at how I had managed to get my hands on skinny jeans and t-shirts, but soon enough they checked the security tapes and found out what I had been doing.

They gave me a severe scolding, and a warning never to do it again, as they provided me with 'everything that I needed' and that there was 'absolutely no reason for my behavior'. Of course, after only two days, I got out of the base yet again. They caught me, of course (they had insane security), but after I kept slipping through their fingers, they stopped caring about it altogether.

They must have come to the conclusion that I wasn't a 'threat', and that's all that mattered to those power hungry assholes.

My steps echoed through the halls as I made my way to the vending machine, as I had an annoying craving for junk food. The other food here was too ... healthy.

I despised healthy things.

I grinned to myself as I walked, and looked down at my new phone. After several years of begging and pleading with them, S.H.I.E.L.D. finally gave in, and gave me a cell phone. I found out soon after that it was completely useless, as I had no one to talk to.

I didn't exactly have any 'friends' here, and the one time I got in contact with someone outside the base, S.H.I.E.L.D. quickly took care of that problem. Even if I wasn't a risk, I apparently couldn't be trusted with another person my age. Phil Coulson was about the only other person on the base I knew well enough to even want their number, but he was Phil. He was a nice enough guy, and was one of the few agents to actually talk to me, but he was ... well, Phil.

It was sort of depressing, but at least I had my apps to mess around with. I was playing a game called "Angry Birds", not noticing where I was going, when I ran smack into someone else.

My years of training automatically sent me into a defensive stance, causing me to frop my phone and lift my hands to block any incoming attacks. But when my eyes focused on the person I had run into, my stance immediately fell.

My jaw clenched, and I supressed a groan.

It was Clint.

Oh, what a joy. My blue eyes narrowed at the sight of my brother's tall form, and I allowed myself to let out a little scoff. I quickly bent over to pick up my phone, only to see that the screen had cracked. I exhaled sharply in anger, and roughly brushed past my brother, continuing onwards to the vending machines.

My brother and I had our… issues. Like I said before, we used to be close. 'Used to' be being the key word in the phrase.

Our parents died in a car crash when we were just kids, leaving the two of us alone to live with a foster family. Our foster parents had an interest in archery, which was how Clint had developed his skills, and also how S.H.I.E.L.D. found us. He had gained their interest through his skill, and they soon asked our foster family to give us up to them for a large amount of money.

S.H.I.E.L.D. was originally going to take just Clint and leave me with the foster family, but my brother managed to convince them to take us both by threatening to make a fuss about it. And so our life at S.H.I.E.L.D. begun.

At first Clint spent all of his time with me, but after a couple of years of training and working for S.H.I.E.L.D., Clint didn't have the time to take care of me anymore, abandoning me for his missions. I know that I shouldn't be so harsh on him, since it wasn't really his fault, but it still managed to get to me. The little girl in me felt abandoned, felt like Clint chose his job over his own sister.

And I had tried to move on from S.H.I.E.L.D., but I couldn't. It's not exactly like I would be able to go up to them and say, "Hey, I hate you guys for ruining my life! Can I go and do something else now?". No. As much as I wanted to leave, they had sunk their claws into me, and I was stuck.

I heard Clint sigh, and then start to run after me. My feet quickened their pace, but I knew that if he really wanted to talk to me, he would find a way. So I just frowned, slowly down enough to let him catch up to me. He shook his head in disdain, and put his hand on my shoulder, stopping me from going any further down the hallway.

I turned to face him, trying to make my face as emotionless as possible.

"Yes, Clint?" I drawled.

Clint narrowed his blue eyes at me, and gritted his teeth in frustration. My lip twitched at the realization that his eyes were the exact same shade as my own, and I tried to stop myself from throwing something at him. I wasn't a child anymore, so I wasn't going to act like one.

"They told me you snuck out again last night," He spoke, and I couldn't help but to scoff at the absurd statement.

"Are you serious, Clint? I didn't 'sneak out'; I walked right out of the front door! The guards were still awake, even," I spat at him.

Besides, it's not like me sneaking out was anything unusual; everyone knew that I did it almost every other night, and they sure haven't given a damn! Yesterday had been a sucky night, so sneaking out seemed like the only option I had at the moment if I wanted to keep my sanity.

What else was I supposed to do, just sit there and do nothing? I've been with S.H.I.E.L.D. for ten years, ever since I was thirteen years old. And now I was twenty three and they still haven't sent me out on any missions yet.

Sure, my brother and Natasha got to go out and do important things, but I was stuck getting all of the 'important' people coffee, and making sure that everything looked nice and neat for anyone who came and visited. I was old enough now, and I wanted to actually do something! I was skilled in hand to hand combat, and more than willing to fight! Why they didn't see that was beyond me. They didn't even give me a badge that said I worked there!

But my brother just gave me one of his trademark 'disapproving' glares.

"I don't care if the guards held the God damn door open for you, Samantha." Clint spoke. He didn't yell, as he had this scary way of not exactly yelling at you, but speaking sternly enough that it made you want to crawl up into a little ball and bawl your eyes out because because you were such a big failure. At least that's what it did to me, anyways.

"They told me you came back drunk." He added on.

I winced at the memory of last night, of me drinking as much as I could at the nearest bar, which wasn't close at all, as the S.H.I.E.L.D. base was in the middle of nowhere. I had a bad night, and I went out. Of course, I had to walk at least twenty miled back to the base completely wasted, but it was better than wallowing in my own self pity.

I sighed, and shook my head. What was I supposed to say to him? I closed my eyes, before getting angry again and glaring back up at him. He was at least a foot taller than me, as I wasn't exactly the tallest person ever.

But I was not short. Never shall I be considered short.

"Fine, Clint. Excuse me for trying to be a normal twenty three year old woman, and let me apologize for having to get away from this fucking base. I mean, I should just have to deal with them being stuck up assholes all of the time, and go back to getting them their coffee." I hissed at him, my eyes narrowing dangerously.

Clint just shook his head.

"Samantha, you don't know what you're talking about. Why would you continue to mock S.H.I.E.L.D. after all they've done for us? How could you forget that they took us in when we had nowhere else to go to? No one else to turn to? Be grateful for that, Samantha, because I will not put up with you when you behave like a child."

I paused, staring at him for a long while and trying to remember where I'd heard that tone of speech before. Then it came back to me, and I shook my head at him.

"Look at you, Clint," I bit my lip to keep myself from exploding in anger. "So young, and already you sound like Dad." I glared at him, before turning on my heels and headed for my room.

Of course, the second I began walking away, his hand shot out, grabbing my shoulder.

As an instant reaction to him touching me, I whipped back and twisted his elbow to the breaking point. The was no time at all before my brother's own training kicked in, and he pulled his arm back in, successfully bringing my down onto my knees, his elbow wrapped around my neck. I took a breath, before swinging my legs up and over, manuvering myself perfectly and landing on his back. He barely held up my weight, but slammed back into a wall, trying to get me off.

My back hit the wall with a force that knocked the wind out of me, and I released Clint, falling to the ground with a thud. My brother quickly realized what he was doing, and stopped before he did any further damage to me. He sighed, and closed his eyes for a moment.

He reluctantly held out his hand to help me up, but I smacked it aside as I stood on my own. I backed away from him, and couldn't stop the noise of disgust that came from the back of my throat.

"You're actually asking me how I could hate S.H.I.E.L.D.? Seriously? We had a family, Clint. Sure, they weren't our real mom and dad, but they took us in, were willing to take care of us. S.H.I.E.L.D paid for us, like we were merchandise. They taught you and I how to kill people, how to sneak into a fortress and torture people for information. And you're asking how I could mock them? Besides, they didn't take me in, Clint, they took you in. You had to bargain with them to get me in here, and now I work as an errand girl, running off to get people their coffee. I never got to have a life other than S.H.I.E.L.D. I have never known anything other than this, when I could have had so much more. So I don't really see why it's such a big God damn deal if I get drunk! It's not like I have very many missions to take care of anyways, because you have all of those, don't you Clint?" I spoke, my voice cracking when I spoke his name.

Clint just stared at me with his blue eyes, the eyes that we both inherited from our mother. He actually looked remorseful for a second, and opened his mouth to speak.

"Sammie, I-"

"Save it." I cut him off the second he tried using his old nickname for me, giving him the nastiest glare I could manage.

He tried speaking again, but I stopped him with a shake of my head, letting him know that any attempt to spologize would only be in vain. I gave him one last glare, and turned on my heels, heading toward the only place in this hellhole that I enjoyed going to.

My room.

When I first came to S.H.I.E.L.D., they offered me my own quarters with everyone else, and I took it. Then, when they moved the quarters a floor above, I had wanted to stay exactly where I was. Childish, but I was only fourteen at the time. It could get lonely down here at times, but I doubted it would make a difference if I was with everyone else.

I quickly made my way to my room, slamming open my door and trudging inside. The walls of my room were covered with posters of various bands and movie stars, and I had random CDs scattered here and there. I occasionally listened to music, when I wasn't off on an errand for whoever wanted something from me. I practically threw myself onto my bed, taking some comfort from the soft material of the pillow against the side of my face.

I sighed, all of my previous energy drained from my body. I was always exhausted after my arguements with Clint, and today was no different. I loved Clint, don't get me wrong, but after all of the drama we had been through over the years, I couldn't help but to get angry at him from time to time. I didn't really have a right to be angry with him, as it was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fault that we were even in this mess, but I suppose he was the easiest to take it out on.

But then there was his fame.

Among S.H.I.E.L.D. my brother was something of a legend, and every agent knew that he never missed his target, and he never failed a mission. Hawkeye did this, Hawkeye did that, it was quite honestly exhausting.

Do you know how hard it is to be constantly hidden by your brother's shadow? That no matter what you do, you can't ever make a name for yourself because of him? Because of him, I was an errand girl that got people coffee and other useless things, while he was off saving the world.

I had no life with S.H.I.E.L.D, or at least not one where I could be my own person, instead of 'Clint's sister', or, 'Hawkeye's baby sister'. I wanted to be more, no, needed to be more than that, more than just the coffee girl. I need to get away from S.H.I.E.L.D., but I didn't have the faintest idea of how to do that.

Maybe I could run away.

The thought crossed my mind for just a brief second, before I smiled softly. Running away would never be a possibility for me, and I would never get away with it. So I'd just have to keep going. I'm sure I could handle my brother and S.H.I.E.L.D. for a while longer.

I sighed, and let my pillow catch my tears.
!#$%^

Notes

A/N: Hey, kiddies! So, I just watched the movie for the seventh time, and I loved it more than the six times before :) I fell in love with both Clint AND Loki. I love them both equally, and that's why I decided to write this story. Please let me know what you think about it so far! The next chapter should be out sometime soon, so let me know :) P.S. Sam is going to be a little bit childish in the next few chapters, but that's her personality right now. Don't worry, she'll grow up soon enough :D

Comments

please continue

Ugh, so good already and only one chapter. ;_;