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Request: December 1. Clint has no idea how Natasha found out it was Barney's birthday (or why that should even matter to him) for alphaflyer

Natasha didn't often surprise him anymore, they knew each other so well, but there were times when she still managed to startle him. Clint had almost forgotten the significance of the day when he stumbled out of the bedroom, half asleep and grasping for coffee, to find her sipping a mugful and holding the pot hostage.

"Clint."

"What?"

"It's your brother's birthday today."

He stared at her for a long moment. How did she find that out? It didn't even matter. His brother was dead.

Natasha held his gaze long enough to make him suspicious of why she was telling him this. "There's somewhere I need to take you." She handed him the pot. "Get dressed."

It said a great deal for their relationship that he did indeed drink his coffee, get dressed, and let her drive him somewhere on Barney's birthday.

"So you hacked my file," Clint seethed into the silence in the car between them.

"Not exactly," which was as good as a you're so far off the mark your name shouldn't even be Hawkeye. But she wasn't giving up her secrets. She wouldn't really be Natasha if she did.

She drove them to an area of New York he hadn't had cause to be in for a long time then parked near a tall apartment building. He followed her up to a small unit and followed her in after she knocked and the door opened.

He stopped cold.

Barney was dead, dead, not standing here in front of him, looking awkward and hanging his head that Barton way when he realized his little brother was staring at him. Barney didn't have an apartment and, and pictures scattered over furniture of a family and an FBI badge on the kitchen table and a bow hanging on the wall.

Clint opened his mouth to curse, to demand, but Natasha broke the silence first.

"They told him you were on a vendetta you shot him." She looked at him a long moment, then turned to Barney and smiled slightly. They had talked before. It was obvious. "Happy birthday." Then she turned and made her way past Clint and out of the apartment, leaving the brothers alone.

Clint stepped forward to lean both arms on the kitchen table. "You're alive."

"Three weeks in ICU." Barney shrugged. "I got better."

After being shot by Clint's arrow in a gang bust. After he'd tried to kill Clint. Brother against brother because they'd played for opposite sides.

"I never even looked," Clint admitted.

"Well, I did try to kill you, even if it was due to bad intel." Barney gestured at the apartment. "I cleaned up, joined the FBI."

"Yeah."

Words stalled out. Neither paid attention to who moved first but they wrapped arms around each other and held on for long enough to be brothers again.

They talked, caught up, and Natasha stood watch outside the door, pleased at the length of time without the sounds of angry voices. It hadn't taken her long to put together the pieces after she ran across Barney at the FBI, not knowing everything she knew about Clint. How many Bartons played with a bow and arrow on a job?

It was Barney's birthday, but it was her gift to Clint.

deaf Clint for lithiumlaughter

Clint lost most of his hearing before he was six years old. Clint thought it was his own fault; Barney said it was Dad's.

Barney took his own fists to any kid who pushed Clint around in the orphanage and used his own crude homesign to translate for his younger brother. When they left for the circus, it was Barney that showed off Clint's almost preternatural aim and made it clear that being deaf left less room for distractions. It made Clint an asset, not a liability.

So when Clint discovered the Deaf community, it didn't take long for him to join it.

Agent Phil Coulson had been tasked with recruiting Hawkeye, but he ran into his first major obstacle when he found himself face to face with someone who barely bothered with English. A sniper could get away with choosing to engage in sign language or via written English only. A spy didn't share the luxury. It didn't help that Barton's handwriting left much to be desired.

Coulson rubbed his temple then shoved aside his notepad to dig out a copy of SHIELD's benefit package.

Hawkeye eyed it suspiciously for a moment, then took it and flipped through a few pages. He shrugged but kept it.

Coulson started to give him a phone number, then crossed that out and wrote an email address instead.

Two weeks later, he got an email back.

'You really want a Deaf ex-carnie?'

He typed back, 'Can you learn to read lips?'

'Already do.'

Coulson muttered to himself. Hawkeye clearly saw the benefit of playing into stereotypes. Understand without being understood. It was the smart thing to do, but it bothered Coulson that he'd bought in too.

'Yes.'

Reading lips didn't mean that Hawkeye talked much at all. What few words he did say were when he ws frustrated enough to want to shoot the offending party rather than talk to them. He signed, he read lips, and he gave Coulson looks that shouldn't be repeated aloud but that Coulson had to translate anyway. Anyone who thought deafness was a liability were referred to Hawkeye's mission success rate and his range scores.

Unlike the rest of SHIELD, Coulson was thrilled when Barton brought home Natasha. Finally someone else could repeat those faces out loud.

"I'll be the spy, and you be the sniper," Natasha told him.

'Talk I can,' Clint pointed out.

She raised an eyebrow, as good as saying he didn't like to.

Coulson watched the exchange with interest. Clint would make an excellent spy and did occasionally when they had cause to insert a Deaf person.

Clint merely shrugged.

Natasha nodded. "That's settled."

Fury kept on his sign languages, even if he swore like a sailor while trying to master Russian Sign Language. "I can't have my agents knowing languages I don't," he pointed out.

Mostly Coulson assumed that Fury wanted to know what Strike Team Delta was gossiping about at the back of the meetings.

Loki didn't know sign language. Allspeak was based on speech and even though his words were translated into English and he understood Clint's thoughts when he tried, he didn't realize that Clint couldn't lipread Aesir and didn't understand a word Loki was saying.

Little wonder then he ended up forced to serve a purpose he hated but still managed to have an embarrassingly lousy shot.

Steve asked if he could fly the jet and Clint exchanged glances with Natasha to read her. He accepted the job.

'Okay?' Natasha asks him at last, signing into his hand under the table as they ate shawarma.

Instead of answering, he tangled his fingers into hers.

Avengers fic for lithiumlaughter

"SHIELD is gone. It's the end of an era." Tony looked appropriately sorrowful. Briefly. Very briefly. "Time to move in then!" He rubbed his hands together gleefully like a little boy.

"Don't hold back, why don't you, Stark," Clint deadpanned over the videophone.

Natasha just shot Clint that raised-eyebrow look that meant 'You thought he would?'

Clint shrugged.

"No, no. Verbal speech is required for this conversation," Tony admonished.

"What do you think?" Natasha asked in Czech.

Clint replied in Farsi, "I think he's crazy and an international target and we'd be crazy to move in, but…" He shrugged. "Might as well."

"Cute," Tony said. "Very cute, kids."

Natasha flicked an eyebrow back at Clint in a Romanovian version of a shrug. "We'll move in."

Steve crashed in the party room in the Avengers Tower penthouse, looking like HYDRA had run him ragged. "Not HYDRA," he corrected. "Bucky."

"Ah. Chasing the ghost." Clint was sprawled out on the couch with the best view of the TV and barely even glanced Steve's way. Dog Cops was on and that took priority.

Bruce brought Steve a glass of water.

"Thank you." Steve nodded.

"Any luck?"

He shook his head. "He's moving on quickly whenever he stops anywhere."

"You going to do the same, Cap?" Natasha's voice asked.

Steve looked around. He started when he realized she was perched on the back of the chair he was sitting on.

She arched an eyebrow, as if to say, 'Well?'

"You mean…"

"Are you going to move into your suite here?" Clint finished for her. "Say yes. Tony's annoying when he's whiny and he's been whining since we said you were off the grid."

"I do not whine," Tony stated quite seriously.

Natasha slid off Steve's chair and patted Tony's shoulder. "You do."

Bruce cleared his throat gently.

Steve looked at him, clearly hoping for rescue.

"We'd be glad to have you."

It was really Jane's fault that they got Thor. She moved in and her boyfriend tagged along for the ride.

"Don’t say I never did anything for you," she joked with Tony over equations at the table in the party room.

Natasha agreed. "Finally, a bit of peace."