Issue 17 YEAR FOUR JANUARY Author: Lonni Holland

HAWKEYE Armed with a high-tech arsenal and the surpassing skill to use it, Clint Barton dons the familiar purple costume and fires justice from his bow.

Grudge Rematch

cover art by Kevin Newburn

Dead! Dead! Man he was sooooo dead! I thought we had finally come to an understanding. Hell, I thought he was actually Avenger material, so what does the high and mighty USAsshole do? * Busts an innocent man, makes the team look like idiots, runs his own friggin' press conference and then has the nerve to walk, as if we were the ones at fault, not him!

* you have been reading Avengers West Coast recently haven't you?

I was in the gym and working out with some weights. I figured a bit of good healthy exercise might calm me down before we left on our mission *. Right now I felt like taking the head off of anyone that came near me. Of course a few years ago, I would have. Guess I really am finally growing up, or maybe I'm just going to get an ulcer instead. I knew I shouldn't really be using free weights without a spotter but I was just too pissed off to have anyone near me, and I think the rest of the team sensed that cause they were all keeping their distance. Musta trained them right.

* this takes place just before the team leaves for Colorado in Avengers West Coast 114

Trained them right? Sure, Barton, that's why your super powerful mega team is falling down around your ears, right? First Jack, then Falc and Cannonball all fade on me for one reason or another. I got two people in sick bay. Well maybe not people, an alien and a robot but it adds up the same. Quicksilver was on my back, Simon was pulling mood switches on me at the drop of a hat, and it even looked like Monica has some troubles. All my heavy hitters are either gone or distracted somehow. I've got a cow lady. a kid and an Elemental deadheading it here but what really gets me is that I just don't know how I managed to mess up the best lineup the Avengers have ever seen, but I did. I guess it is true, I'm not really a good leader, and I've just been faking it all along.

Hell no! This wasn't what any of this was all about, and it was time I faced up to it. It wasn't about me, or my ability, or the team at all. It was about Jack .My worst enemy, Jack.... my teammate, Jack..... my ally, Jack.... my friend, Jack. We had run the gauntlet of relationships but I had really thought that he and I were buddies now. How could I have been so damned wrong about him? Enough was enough, I reset the barbell I'd been pumping furiously, rubbed half heartedly at my now aching shoulder and chest muscles and got up. I was gonna go find the big idiot and have it out with him. I headed to my quarters to change out of my uniform. This had nothing to do with Hawkeye and USAgent, it was more basic. This was just Clint and Jack, and we were gonna square things between us, or maybe just die trying.

I had to hand it to SHIELD, these were some fancy digs they had set us up in. Computer gizmos all over the place, red hot security, great food... hey even someone who cleaned up after me. Good thing too, since housekeeping has never been one of my strong suits. I was in my room working out. I had to stay in peak shape, there was too much competition around and I was determined that this was where I made good so I just couldn't let any of them show me up. So far I had managed to hold my own on the team, in spite of that jerk, Swordsman, always riding me. He was just a punk and I had skill and experience on my side but I couldn't stop for a minute or else they'd find out. Hellcat knew, or suspected at least. Damned furball, always sneaking up behind me, watching me. Maybe I should just lay her, that might keep her quiet. Lord no! That was exactly what she wanted and besides the idea of that tail twitching around my butt while we were.... eww, gave me the creeps. Besides if I was going to get it on with anyone it would be the Scarlet Witch. I dropped to the ground and started on my pushups and thought about Wanda. She was so rounded and sexy and that costume certainly didn't leave much to the imagination. Those long legs... I could imagine them wrapped around me, her with nothing on but those kinky little retro boots of hers. Wonder if she's ever had a man before, she looks so young. That's okay too, I could show her what it's all about then teach her how to really pleasure a guy. Yeah well, enough of that, it wasn't helping me concentrate on pushups, that's for sure. Time for chasing the little Witch later, right now I had bigger fish to fry. I had to train harder, be perfect. That new guy was going to be trouble, I just knew it. Captain friggin' America, why did they have to bring him in? I could have beaten the others, could have been the leader, but they had to go and get themselves a walking talking flag to head the team. Corniest outfit I ever saw, and his speeches were even cornier. So why did I feel like I would follow him into the mouth of hell if he asked me too? But it was his eyes that freaked me. Big, sad, blue eyes that looked into your soul and tore all of your secrets from you. I had to work harder, had to be the best possible Avenger, so he wouldn't look, wouldn't find out, would never see what a loser I really was.

I checked his bungalow, I checked the pool, I checked the lounge and the garage and the farther I went without finding him the more pissed off I got. Then it hit me, Jack wasn't stupid, he knew this was coming and he was waiting for me and I knew where. I grabbed a skycycle and headed for Portuguese Bend. * This time we'd finish it, once and for all.

* the site of the first Grudge Match back in AWC 69

He was there all right, a big grin on his ugly mug, just sitting on a tree stump, waiting for me. "You must be getting old, Barton, I've been here for almost an hour waiting for you to make an appearance. I was starting to think you were yellow."

"Yellow? Why you slimy little..." I had my hands balled into fists and was ready to clock him but I stopped. You're a leader, you have to behave like one, so slow down and think. What would Cap do? "Okay, Jack, I'm here now. I guess it just took me a bit to realize that we needed to have this talk. So, let's talk." That was better. I could deal with this rationally, I really could.

He shrugged. "What is there to talk about? I want to bust some crooks and you just want to be a do gooder. That's all there is to it. It's pretty clear that I can't do what I need to here, so I am leaving. End of story,"

A do gooder? Damn it I've busted my share of crooks, probably way more than he had. I sputtered for a second then reminded myself again... what would Cap do? I calmed myself and asked "Don't you think that we are doing the job with the Avengers, Jack? After all we've saved the entire universe a few times. Not bad for do gooders. I can't understand what your problem is."

He snorted, "Sure, you whup the big baddies and get the big headlines while the drug peddlers and rapists and lowlifes still run around making life hell for the regular folks. I need to leave so I can deal with the problems that you bleeding hearts don't have time for, the real problems that affect the ordinary guy on the street."

Thinking back about it now, I suppose he was making sense but then I sure didn't see it that way. All I saw was his arrogant face and heard that sarcastic tone in his voice and it all added up to him sounding like he was better than we were, or thinking he was at least.

"You jerk! We beat Galactus or Doom or Kang and you take down Moe the Schmoe and you're doing something more important?" I shouldn't have been baiting him, but he had me mad, and I sometimes don't think so well when I'm mad. As a result I actually did something really stupid, I took a swing at him. No doubt about it, that wasn't what Cap would have done.

Ya know, Jack and I have tussled before and ya know what bugs me the most? Nope, not the fact that he can whup me every time, nor the fact that last time he beat me senseless without even breaking out into a sweat, not even the week that it took for the bruises to heal. It's just that every freakin' time I take a swing at him, he grabs my arm in mid flight and tosses me away like I was a little kid! It's humiliating, it really is. So this time I hauled off and threw my best roundhouse right at him, and he brushed me aside like a five year old girl.

I landed in the bushes with a thud. As I was spitting the leaves and twigs out of my mouth and trying to regain my senses I noticed something about Jack as he stood in the clearing laughing. He was out of costume too. A thought crossed my mind. Sure, it was a nasty evil thought and it was low and dirty, but hey... he had the benefits of a power broker, all I had were my wits and my boyish charm.

I burst out of the underbrush and tackled him low, driving my shoulder into his groin as I did. No costume probably means no cup, right? Jackie boy may have super strength but he doesn't have super balls. He crumpled, gasping and red faced and I grinned.

I scrambled to my feet. He was lying there, tears streaming from his eyes as he battled to get his breath and, fool that I am, I gloated. "So, hot shot. Not quite so high and mighty now are you? Maybe you need a few Avenger bleeding heart training sessions. Otherwise what are you gonna do when some drug dealer decides to ring your chimes like I just did. Super powers won't help that much."

I figured he was still down for the count and was getting ready to rub a bit more salt in the wound when he snaked his hand out, grabbed my ankle and tipped me up ass over teakettle. I slammed down hard on my back and the breath whooshed out of me. I lay there, gasping air in but unable to breathe it back out, and wondering if he had busted my back. Then he dove on top of me.

So there we were, rolling around in the dirt, each grabbing at each other's throat. Only problem with that is that Jack can press 10 tons and I can manage about 300 pounds. I felt a bit like Mr. Bean trying to take down Stone Cold Steve Austin, with both hands tied behind my back. He was furious and as his big paws tightened around my neck and my vision started to go black I remember thinking I should stayed composed and talked to him. I finally blacked out thinking that Cap wouldn't have handled it like this at all.

War Master was dead. I couldn't believe it but it was a fact. Rhodey had killed himself. I knew he was upset because he had to off those bad guys last week and a bunch of sightseeing kids died in the process but the cops didn't press any charges after the appropriate bribes were paid and I didn't think he was really taking it that hard. It was Wanda that found him. She and I had grabbed a quickie while Roberta was down at city hall straightening out the mayor about who was really in charge of this burg. When we were finished I wanted to catch a fast shower and a nap but Wanda had wanted a rematch so I guess she went hunting fresh game. She found him in his bungalow, his War Master helmet set neatly on the table beside him, and his brains splattered all over the place. He had turned one of his own repulsors, full blast, straight into his own face. So now I had a big hole in the roster to fill. As if I wasn't busy enough trying to balance my already shaky marriage with a couple of flings I had been enjoying, run this gang of cutthroats, keep the city managers in line and stop those mutant upstarts from trying to cut into my territory. Thanks a lot, Jim, I love you too. Jerk!

Slap!

Argh, that hurt.

Slap!

Hey, that really did hurt! My eyes flickered open and I reflexively grabbed at Jack's hand as he tried to slap me again.

"Geez, Barton. You scared me, man. For a minute I thought I'd killed you. You okay? Can you breathe?"

I drew in some air experimentally, and started to cough. My throat was raw, my lungs burned like crazy and I felt shit assed awful. Oh wow, I was alive. Jack pulled me up to a sitting position and started to pound on my back. Great, I could trade a coughing fit for a busted spine, sounded like a real deal to me.

I shook him off and just sat there for a minute trying to collect my wits and remember how to stand up. He was mumbling all kinds of platitudes about how he shouldn't have let me get to him, how he was so much stronger than I was, how fighting me wasn't fair cause I didn't stand a chance. Well maybe I didn't, but I sure didn't think much of him saying so. I decided to let him know I wasn't too happy with him, so I belted him in the chops then got up.

"Come on, Jack. Why don't you beat the crap out of me again? Show me what a big man you are since the power broker beefed you up. I'm not afraid. I may not be enhanced or anything but I'll be damned if I won't at least try to give you a fight." I clocked him again as he struggled to get up, sending him reeling backwards into a palm tree.

This wasn't going how I planned it at all. I wanted to talk to him, to work this out, to maybe even salvage our friendship but he got me so damned pissed off I couldn't even think straight. I was all set to whack him again when I saw the look in his eyes as he got up and for just one second I was scared that he was going to kill me. I knew he could, without even thinking about it, and I also knew I had pushed him way beyond the talking stage. I swallowed my heart and decided that I maybe I wasn't mad any more, but I sure was frightened. Unfortunately I had no way out. I raised my fists and waited for him to beat me to a pulp.

He swung at my head. I deflected it with my left arm and felt my wrist go numb on the process. He countered with another swipe that tagged me on the cheek and would have likely taken my head off if I hadn't been ducking at the time. Then he changed targets and hit me in the belly a couple of good whacks. I stood there doubled over, wavering, my lunch trying to work its way up my throat and I waited for him to finish me off. I knew I couldn't even straighten up enough to hit him back and, much as I wanted to say something smart assed, I also knew that if I opened my mouth I'd likely puke my guts out.

So I stood there, waiting....

and waiting....

and waiting....

then I dropped to my knees in the dirt. If he wanted to finish me off he'd have to get me back on my feet. I felt sick and wasn't feeling charitable enough to make it easy for him. I was looking at the ground, waiting for the ax to fall, when I heard a thud beside me. Jack had sat down on the ground next to me. He looked tired and dirty and his nose was bleeding.

"Okay, Clint. I give up. You win. What the hell do you want from me?"

Huh? He had me whupped six ways from Sunday and he knew it. I didn't understand and besides I still wasn't real sure I could talk without dropping my cookies in his lap so I just sat there looking stupid.

A few minutes passed, then a few more. We finally looked at each other again and we both started to laugh. That hurt my gut even more but I couldn't stop. What a pair of buffoons we were. This was ridiculous, our whole relationship was ridiculous. We had been at each other's throat from day one. * Even when we finally did bury the hatchet and become sort of pals ** there was always an edge to our friendship, always the tension that could break into a fist fight at any minute. Jack had laid it all on the line for me a few times *** but no matter how close we got there was always something between us.

* they met on the last page of AWC 43

** in Marvel Comics Presents 159-161 and again in Force Works 8

*** check the Crossing issues of Avengers, Iron Man, Force Works and War Machine and Hawkeye 1 to 6

When we had both finally collected ourselves I decided to try talking again. After all, it's what Cap would have done, not that he'd have gotten in this situation in the first place.

"Okay Jack, fight's over and we both won, or maybe we both lost. But I still don't get it. Why don't you want to be an Avenger any more? I know what you said to the public and the team, but this is me. We've tried to kill each other a few times but we've been pretty tight too. Let just try to forget all the arguing and work this out okay?"

"Well, that's what I wanted to do in the first place, but I guess I was a bit rough about it." He looked away. "Face it, Clint. I don't belong here. I've never really been part of the team, and this isn't really my kind of crime fighting either. I'm more direct and down to earth than you guys, I see too many things wrong on a whole different level, and I see them as more black and white than you do too."

I shrugged. "Well, I can dig that part I guess, seems to me that Black Panther used to say something similar, but what do you mean you haven't been part of the team? Hell, you're an Avenger. You paid your dues. Besides there just isn't anywhere better to be than with the premiere team in the world. I can't get that part of it, no matter how I try. How can you go back to being a bush league player when you've been in the majors?"

"Come on, Barton. Face it, I'd never have been an Avenger if the government hadn't shoehorned me in here in the first place. You guys are too squeaky clean for someone who plays hard ball like me. And I have never really fit in. Oh, I grant that when it was just the two of us I was okay lately but when there were others around?? Nope. Hell, even look at when we went out for a few with Cap. * I ended up looking like an idiot in front of him."

* see Marvel Triple Action 55 to find out what Jack's talking about

"Oh, come on man. That was a joke. I'd have done that to anyone, even Steve. It was supposed to be funny. It's a guy thing." I couldn't believe he was still thinking about that. I guess it just shows that you never know what little thing will bother a guy.

"Yeah, I guess but I always felt like an outsider with you guys, no matter how hard I tried. I guess that was just one more thing. Of course, given the chance I'd likely embarrass you that way too." He smiled. "I suppose the thing is, I haven't felt at home here, and as much as I do like working you, you overgrown Robin Hood, I need to get away from here, need to be somewhere that I can fight the baddies in my own way. Maybe I'm just not meant to be your kind of team player. I don't know, but I do know that I don't think I'm really utilizing myself fully as an Avenger."

I still wasn't sure I understood why anyone wouldn't want to be an Avenger but I was willing to go along with him, for now. After all I had struck out on my own once too. * "Yeah, well, if you say so. So what are your plans? Gonna run solo now or what?"

* in Avengers 109

"For now, yeah. And I've got a few other irons in the fire too. Heck, even one of my old bosses has been calling me a lot. * I haven't answered him but it's nice to know I'm in demand in case I do get tired of playing a lone hand."

* see the Vault 17

So this was it. He really was leaving us. In spite of all the bickering we did, I was sorry. Jack was good people and I was going to miss him. I had known a lot of people in my spandex career but hadn't been close to very many. Jack was one of the few. I reached over to put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, we all have to go our own ways I guess. Good luck, Jack, but remember if you ever need someone to cover your back..." I just let the thought drift off. He'd know.

He reached out and shook my hand. "I wouldn't call anyone else, bud. And thanks."

He stood up, gave me a quick wave, turned and walked off.

Okay, so maybe I hadn't handled it all real well but in the end I think Cap would have approved.

Bye Jack.

And good luck.

Next month the promised return of the Variable, Hawk's much delayed meeting with Gayle, and maybe a few more strange interludes? Who knows (I do, but that would be telling...)?

Lonni Holland
August 30, 1999

lonni@paratime.ca