Along Came A Spider | The Hail Mary

[x-hawkeye.livejournal.com]

Matt and Clint are at family breakfast with Steve and Andre when Clint gets an unexpected text message.


Clint was leaning back in his chair, a glass of orange juice half-finished on the table in front of him as he waited for Andre to bring out the plates with all the pancakes on them. Family breakfasts on Sundays were an institution — and one that he hoped would never, ever end because seriously, he was never going to be able to get this many carbs all in one place at one time without people looking at him strangely.

When Matt had first come to live with Steve and Andre — and therefore Clint — the idea of a family meal was completely foreign to him. He and his father had eaten meals together of course, usually without much conversation or anything fancy. Just eat the food. Now, family meals were something he cherished and he had dragged Foggy to plenty of them over the years, though not as many recently. Family breakfast followed by Mass and relaxing or laundry was about the perfect Sunday. "Those smell delicious." Dorm cafeteria pancakes could not even pretend to compete against these.

"Yeah, they do," Clint said, nodding. "And I don't even have a super schnoz." He grinned at Matt, giving a finger wave to his brother so he'd know Clint was doing something obnoxious. Andre appeared, a vision in a pristine apron with two plates of pancakes. Steve followed, carrying a plate full of potatoes and another full of sausage and bacon. "Oh my God," Clint said, voice reverent. He made sure to avoid the kick Matt was undoubtedly sending in his direction. "I am starving and that is the most delicious sight I've ever seen."

"Ignore him," Matt instructed, "I get first dibs. Otherwise, we might not get to eat!" Clint's appetite was legendary, though Matt's was just a shade less so. They had both done their best to eat their way through their teenage years and weren't slowing down all that much now. "And I have mass to get to!" In two hours, which was more than enough time, or he could go to a later one, but still. Anything to get his food first.

"Oh c'mon," Clint said, laughing despite himself. "That's rich — Mass isn't for two hours and you're dragging me to it. That totally doesn't count."

"Boys," Steve intoned, looking from one of them to the other.

"You'd think, after all these years," Andre said with a smile. He put one plate of pancakes down near Matt and the second he placed near Clint.

"Mm..." Clint said, picking up one of the serving forks so he could go for a stack of delicious, delicious pancakes. They'd say grace once everybody had food on their plate. His phone vibrated in his pocket, though, distracting him mid-reach. He frowned — everyone knew he was at family breakfast. He'd even tried to get Angel to come with, but she was elbow deep in preparation for her slightly illegal newspaper, so she'd declined.

Forking his stack of pancakes onto his plate, aware that his dads were giving him slightly disapproving looks as he reached for his phone to check it, Clint pulled his mobile out and flicked to the text messages so he could see it.

The text had come from an unrecognized number and read, "Aloha, auf Wiedersehen, bon soir, sayonara, and all those good bye things, baby."

Clint's response was immediate. All four of his chair legs thudded against the floor as he tapped out, "CONFIRM," hit send, sat the phone on the table in front of him, and watched it.

"Breathe," Matt murmured. It was impossible to miss Clint's heart rate as it started to pound in his chest and his breath hitched. Whatever had come through that text was important and not so good. What had just happened? He wasn't sure he wanted to ask, but he probably would.

"Clint?" Steve turned to his oldest, noting that he'd gone pale. Reaching out to touch his forehead to see if he had a fever, he glanced at his husband. "Everything alright?"

Clint allowed the touch and did make himself inhale thanks to Matt's timely reminder. Sixty seconds passed and he got no response to his demand for confirmation which — well. That was confirmation all on it's own, wasn't it? Forcing himself to be calm, he said, "I need to go. Sorry to run out on breakfast. Matt, can you take PD for me? I don't know how long I'll be gone. This is — it's work related. Sort of."

"Of course," Matt replied immediately, only to get cut off by Andre.

"Son," he asked, used to Clint not being able to talk about things that were classified, but also thinking that Clint was out of that life. "Clinton? What's going on? What happened?"

Pushing himself away from the table and the concerned eyes of his parents as well as Matt's furrowed brows, Clint said, "It's Natasha. I don't know anything else at the moment, but I need to go. I'll let you know what I can as soon as I have something I can tell you."

Ah. Well, that explained everything. "Let me know if I can help," Matt replied, meaning both legally or extra-legally. He wasn't involved in that part of Clint's life, but that didn't mean he wouldn't help if his brother needed it. "And I'm gonna eat your pancakes."

"Will do." Grabbing a couple slices of bacon, Clint rolled them up in one of the pancakes and shoved that into his mouth as he stood. His phone in hand, he called over his shoulder, "I need your spare tablet, Andre. I'll buy you a new one." The chances of getting it back were nonexistent, if only because Clint would have to destroy it after looking up the information he needed to access.

Once he knew where she was, he needed to... he needed to get in touch with people who actually had the resources to do what needed to be done. Which meant a desperate stop by Snow Valley despite the fact that it was Sunday.