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



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 brother being who he was, after all. Most people tell me that I should be glad to have a brother like Clint, but I didn't fall for that crap. Yeah, my big brother was Clint Barton, the great and mighty Hawkeye. And I was Samantha Barton, useless younger sister.

We were really close when we were little, but that soon changed when S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited him. He made sure that they gave me a job as well, but it was nowhere near as glamorous as his own. He went on missions all over the world, and I was stuck getting all of the important people their stupid coffee. Now I am grateful for them taking us in, because we had nowhere else to go at the time, and they gave us an option we hadn't thought possible, but that doesn't mean that I have to like my job.

He 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 had. But martial arts were another matter entirely. After a few years, he didn't have any more time to teach me anything else, 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 multiple times, 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 even able to get close to beating her a few times.

We didn't like each other, exactly, but we had grown to respect each other for the skill that we each possessed. I was like a mini Black Widow, except I was sarcastic and hated S.H.I.E.L.D. with all of my heart. And I had brown hair, and blue eyes. And I didn't get along with Clint, whereas she was practically in love with him. And I suppose I was nothing like her at all.

I sighed, and continued walking down the hallway. Natasha was a morning person, and she always scheduled our sparring lessons super early, forcing me to get up at an ungodly hour every couple of weeks. I suppose it wasn't too bad, since we didn't do this too often. She was always out on 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 there was no one else around as I walked forward. I managed to get to the room without being late, 4:30 on the dot. Natasha was standing on the other side of the room with her hands tucked behind her back. She turned when she heard me enter through the doorway, and nodded.

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

I gave her a sleepy smile, and stretched out my arms, 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 give me an opening before I attacked. 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.

She 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, 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 side. It only took a moment before my training fully kicked in, and I stopped thinking, and instead reacted. 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 a little bit. I tried to take advantage of her temporary weakness, and punched outwards. It would have hit her had I been a second earlier, 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 floor.

I jumped back up, but she sent another punch my way, one that I was only barely able to block. 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 I was doomed. 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. I never admitted defeat. I wouldn't, couldn't.

Somehow, throughout my being beat up, my thoughts wandered over to Clint, and I came to a realization. My brother could beat Natasha, or could at least come close to it, so why couldn't I? I began to get angry, knowing that my brother could do something that I could not. My vision soon turned red, and I jumped up from my kneeling position, thrusting my leg out and hitting her in the stomach once again. She stumbled back, only this time she nearly fell down.

I launched myself at her the second she stopped hitting me. I kicked her legs out from under her, and when she stood up, I grabbed her shoulder and flipped myself over her. Before she had a chance to turn around, I elbowed her in the head, and she went down.

I was still seething, but I knew that I had to stop. I took a deep breath, and tried to calm myself down.

Natasha picked herself up off of the ground, and put a hand to the back of her head, turning to me. She stared at me for a second, before she let out a smile.

"You actually took me down," She looked me up and down. "Do that more often." She commanded, before walking out of the room and to her plane. After she was gone, I held a hand up in mock salute.

"Yes ma'am!" I muttered, before rubbing my left cheek. Natasha had hit me pretty hard there, and I knew that if I looked in the mirror I could probably see a bruise forming.

Ignoring the pain that had spread through my body, I headed out of the door, thinking to myself.

I had little to no friends in S.H.I.E.L.D, and was rarely ever allowed to go out into the real world, not even to get 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 snuck out of the facility, even though it was forbidden. Now, believe me, it is NOT easy to sneak out of a heavily armed fortress, but all of the moves Clint and Natasha had taught me had paid off, and I managed to get by without them noticing.

At first, they were baffled at how I had managed to get my hands on skinny jeans and t-shirts, but soon enough they found out what I had been doing. After a severe scolding, and a warning never to do it again, I repeated my actions once again. They caught me, of course, but after a couple more times they stopped caring about it altogether. They knew that I wasn't a threat, and that's all that mattered to them. Stupid pricks.

My steps echoed as I made my way to the vending machine, as I was craving junk food. The other food here was so ... healthy.

I didn't like healthy things.

I smiled to myself as I walked, and looked down at my new phone. After years of begging and begging, S.H.I.E.L.D. finally gave in, and gave me a cell phone. I found out soon after that it was useless, as I had no one to talk to. I had no friends whatsoever, and the only person that had a cell phone here wasn't about to give me their number. It was sad, 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. My years of training sent me into a defensive stance, and I dropped my phone and lifted my hands to block any incoming attacks. But when I realized who it was I had ran into, my stance immediately fell. I rolled my eyes, annoyed.

It was Clint.

Oh, joy.

I narrowed my eyes at my brother's tall form. I scoffed, and bent over to pick up my phone, which seemed to be fine. I roughly brushed past my brother, and continued on my way 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. When we were little, our parents had died in a car crash, leaving the two of us alone to live in an orphanage. That was where Clint had developed his skills, and S.H.I.E.L.D. found us. My brother had to bargain with them to take me in, but he managed to do it.

After a couple of years at S.H.I.E.L.D., Clint didn't have the time to take care of his little sister anymore. I know that I shouldn't be so harsh on him, since it wasn't really his fault, but it still hurt me to know that my brother cared more about his job than he did about me. I tried to move on, but I couldn't. It's not like I could just stroll up to them and say, "Hey, I hate you guys! Can I go and do something else now?" That would go over very well, I'm sure.

I heard Clint sigh, and then start to run after me. I picked up my pace, but I knew that if he wanted to talk to me, he would find a way to, no matter what I did to stop him. So I slowed down, and let him catch up to me. He shook his head at me, and put his hand on my shoulder, stopping me from going any further down the hallway.

"Yes, brother?" I drawled, wanting this to be over as soon as possible.

Clint narrowed his eyes at me, and gritted his teeth.

I smirked; I just loved making him angry. It always led to something interesting. I know that I probably shouldn't enjoy it so much, since this was my brother we were talking about, but somehow just seeing the Golden Boy of S.H.I.E.L.D getting angry over something as little as this, well, it was funny.

"They told me you got out again last night," He spoke, making my blood boil with every word. I glared at him.

"I am not some pet of theirs that they can control! And I didn't sneak out; I walked right out of the stupid front door, with the guards still awake, even," I spat.

It's not like me sneaking out was anything unusual; I did it almost every week! I needed to get away from S.H.I.E.L.D. last night, and it seemed like the only option I had at the moment. What else was I supposed to do, just sit there and do nothing? I have been with S.H.I.E.L.D 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 things for them, 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, and more than ready to fight! Why they didn't see that was beyond me. I didn't even have a gun!

"I don't care if the guards held the door open for you; you know that you're supposed to stay here! I will not have you disobey the rules, Samantha!" He shouted in his deathly calm voice. Clint had a scary way of not exactly yelling at you, but speaking sternly enough that it made you want to crawl up into a ball and cry because you were such a big failure. At least that's what it did to me, anyways.

I sighed, and bit my lip. What was I supposed to say to him? I closed my eyes, before getting angry again and glaring 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. Let me apologize: I'm sorry, my dearest brother, it was a mistake, one that shall not be made again. Well, at least until the next time I decide to sneak out, that is. Which, with the day I've been having, will probably be tonight," I smiled at him, my mood brightening when I saw his eyes light up with anger. I would always enjoy seeing him like this.

"Samantha, you don't know what you're talking about. How could 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? They took us in when no one else did. Be grateful for that, because I will not put up with you when you behave like this."

I stared at him for a long while, 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 even harder. "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 he ran after me, 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, 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, hard, and I let go of Clint and fell to the ground.

He realized what he was doing, and stopped before he knocked me out. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He 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 glared with all of my might.

"Let's get one thing straight, Clint. S.H.I.E.L.D took you in, not me. 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, so I don't see why it's such a big deal that I sneak out sometimes. 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 hissed, my voice cracking when I spoke his name.

"Sammie, listen, I'm sorry-"

"Save it." I cut him off the second he tried using his old nickname for me. He tried speaking again, but I merely scoffed at him, and started sprinting to the only place in this damned facility that I can actually call my own.

My home.

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 higher up, I had wanted to stay where I was. It could get lonely sometimes down here, but when was I not lonely?

I slammed open my door, and trudged into my room. The walls were covered in the latest stars, and I had CDs scattered here and there. I occasionally listened to music, when I wasn't off on another errand for whoever wanted something from me.

I threw myself onto my bed, taking a little comfort from the soft material of the pillow against the side of my face. I sighed, all of my energy zapped from my body. I was always exhausted after fights with Clint, and today was no different. Sure, I loved getting him angry, but somehow I always regretted it afterwards. You'd think that I would stop if I regretted it, right? But no, I had to keep doing something that I wished I could take back, every single time.

I loved Clint, don't get me wrong. Maybe that's why I was doing this, because I loved him. I couldn't imagine life without him, but at the same time, he didn't have to be stuck a stuck up jerk about everything he did!

Do you know how hard it is when you're 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 things. I didn't want to be that forever, but I had no life with S.H.I.E.L.D, at least not one where I can be my own person, instead of 'Clint's sister', or, 'Hawkeye's little sister'. I needed to get away from S.H.I.E.L.D., and I didn't know how I was going to do that.

Maybe I could run away. Or I could go up to the person in charge and demand that they give me some real work, or I'll leave. Ha! Who am I kidding? I would never be able to do something like that, and I for sure would never get away with it.

I sighed, and let my pillow catch my tears.


A/N: Hey, kiddies! So, I just watched the movie, and I loved it. 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 on Monday, since tomorrow is Mother's Day and I will not be able to write :)