Assassin

20: Clint

Look at me, updating this story in record time which is good since we're so close to the end and the most exciting portion. Endgame is around the corner but first I hope you enjoy this relatively uneventful chapter. It's really just them in prison for 5500 words but 21 will be real exciting so look out for that!

We ended up being transported to a floating supermax prison named the Raft. It was located in the middle of nowhere and each cell was stuffed with the worst kind of prisoner, from terrorists to rogue aliens. Every villain that the Avengers or any other hero had ever fought was there and now five of those heroes were joining them. It wasn't fair that my need to protect Logan and Hannah, to keep my family safe was cause to throw me in jail.

The real villain was still out there and I had to hope that Bucky and Steve managed to get to Zemo before it was too late. That was our only hope of getting out, of Logan and I getting back to Hannah and Leo, finally being a family. I sighed in defeat and glared at a couple guards who dragged Logan off to a separate portion of the prison. Sam, Scott and myself had to be processed whereas Wanda and Logan got dragged off to God knows where.

"Where are they going?" I inquired towards the guard that was leading us through the Raft.

"Special division of processing, reserved for freaks," he shot back and chuckled as I clenched my bound hands into fists.

God...if I had something I could throw that guard would be dead in seconds. But I was out of luck and forced to grumble out a couple choice words as he lead us further into the prison.

"Get changed," the guard barked and handed me a light blue shirt and pants as well as a grey long sleeve shirt.

I glared at the outfit before slipping into the change room and shedding my Hawkeye gear. The suit I had worn in Germany was even brand new and specially designed for that mission. They were likely gonna destroy it. I sighed at the thought before stuffing the suit in a bin and slipping on the shoes. Once the plain grey sneakers were tied and I was deemed presentable, I let the guard know I was ready.

"I'm finished," I informed after he had asked why I called him.

"The things in your ears," the guard pointed out and I narrowed my eyes at him.

I had already been without my aids in a prison once, I wasn't about to let it happen again.

"I'm basically deaf, I need them to hear," I told him and the guard raised a brow.

"Ask processing if you can wear them," he ordered and I nodded before the guard shoved me through a set of swinging doors.

I groaned and rubbed my shoulder before following a second guard over to processing. It was nothing but a plain waiting room with a row of desks protected by bullet proof glass. Kinda like a bank actually. I raised a brow at the set up before a woman seated behind one of the barriers called me over. I let out a sigh and wandered over, smiling at the woman before taking a seat.

"Please state your full name, age, birthday and any known abilities," she barked and I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

"Clinton Francis Barton, 35, January 7th, 1981 and none," I informed and the woman nodded before jotting down the information on a sheet.