[ His attention flickers, sharper, steadier, the assassin in him rearing to life. Sam's mind curls dark, and Clint steadies around him, easily, wordlessly. A promise of backup, of I know, I'll help, because he'd known good men and women slaughtered by their own coworkers in the bellies of SHIELD bases.
HYDRA deserved all it fucking got, and even if he wistfully wishes for a goddamn decent spy team, Clint can't forget it. Can't forget his own undercover OP going under so quick, and the desperate flight out out out -- hearing Nat and Steve and Laura's voicemail, later, later. ]
(That's the fuckin' truth. Don't know what they expected, not like you can really learn to be a spy on the job.)
no subject
HYDRA deserved all it fucking got, and even if he wistfully wishes for a goddamn decent spy team, Clint can't forget it. Can't forget his own undercover OP going under so quick, and the desperate flight out out out -- hearing Nat and Steve and Laura's voicemail, later, later. ]
( That's the fuckin' truth. Don't know what they expected, not like you can really learn to be a spy on the job. )
[ Grousing, but it's half-joke. ]