It felt like they were being folded and unfolded several times. It felt like being rolled and unrolled into a ball. It felt like the feeling of warping was never going to end as it moved the heros towards who knows where.

They couldn't even open their eyes with the pain and nausea overcoming them. When Natasha finally managed it, she took in all the shades of purple filling in some kind of void space. There were also the occasional spots of white glimmers, or stars.

The spy groaned and looked around for the rest of her team. The first person she saw was Steve, who had long lost his shield at wherever they were before this madness started. He looked pretty green as he fought to gain control of whatever invisible force was carrying them forward.

Tony looked a little better, but was still a little pale in the face. He had his eyes clenched tightly, not even daring to look around. It looked like his armor didn't travel with them leaving him in a pair of oil greased jeans and an old band t-shirt.

Then, the three Avengers' feet finally hit the ground accompanying another bright flash.

"Where are we?" Tony grunted while trying to stand up. He failed because he still had his eyes closed and stumbled into a cabinet. Literally. The genius had no words to describe falling straight through a solid object. "What the hell?"

"I have no answer to either of those questions," Steve came to his feet more gracefully than Tony, and started looking around at the foreign environment, taking care not to touch anything.

"Are we... Actually here?" Natasha asked quizzically. It didn't really make any sense, they couldn't possibly have just traveled a long distance, right? How would that even begin to explain the whole 'going through the wall thing'.

The room they were in had a few shirts lying on the floor. Some were ripped or had random mismatched pieces of fabric sowed on. Furniture in the room had cracks and the wood was splintered in several places. Paint was peeling on the walls. This was definitely a house belonging to a lower class family.

Tony scratched his head and though for a moment. Before he spoke up, Cap stepped in, "I think we're in Iowa." He pointed to a shirt lying on the ground that read, "Waverly Elementary School".

"Well, I think that we're in a child's bedroom-"

"No shit, Sherlock. Welcome to Waverly, I guess?" Natasha crossed the room over to a bunk bed. The bottom one looked like it wasn't slept in at all the night before; it was perfectly made and had an unfinished game of checkers on it.

"Er... You guys may want to see this..." Steve was leaning over a broken dresser, his blue eyes fixated on a framed picture. Like everything else in the bedroom, it was scratched and even had an alarming spot of a rusty red.

The others walked over to him. "What's wrong, spangles? Is it an old man thing, because if so then-"

"No, look at the photograph."

Natasha gasped and Tony's eyes widened. He tried to pick up the frame before remembering he couldn't. The picture was of two boys, probably between the ages of four and ten at most. The younger one looked awfully similar to-

"Legolas...? Holy shit!" Tony exclaimed loudly while staring at the kid with blue-grey eyes and a shaggy heap of dirty blonde hair. "That thingy in Hydra must have put us in Clint's past- or something like that."

"But why Clint and not any of us?" The Avengers were used to weird things. The whole team is made up of a Russian spy, a billionaire in fancy robot armor, a scientist who can turn green and big at any given second, a handsome lad from the forties, an archer who never misses, and a literal God. And let's not forget the major alien attack on the Big Apple, courtesy of Thor's adoptive and misunderstood brother, Loki.

"No clue. If-"

"When."

Natasha sighed, "When we get out of here, you need to look into that thingy. Nobody can probably see us either, especially with how we're like ghosts."

Tony started murmuring things under his breath; possible ideas of how to fix this, even though none of them seemed likely. He was soon interrupted by the sound of the bedroom window opening.

The small boy, Clint, crawled in through the window with a look of worry and fear in his eyes. He was biting his lip and trying to be as quiet as humanly possible. The team also noticed the bandage on Clint's nose, even though said kid looked to be only five.

Natasha had to give him credit, Clint was actually emitting no sound- that is until he fell and landed on his back on the floor. Clint gulped and held his breath, he didn't even bother trying to grab the belongings that fell out of his half zipped canvas backpack.

A loud grunt sounded in return, one that could challenge even Thor. It sounded like said person wanted to say something else, but then decided against it. Clint finally got to his feet and let his backpack fall to the carpeted flooring.

A few seconds passed before the bigger kid entered through the bedroom window; his reddish brown hair was nearly identical to his brother's. He couldn't have been older than nine.

"You have to be careful, Clint." Barney's brow furrowed as he stared down at his younger sibling.

"I know! I know, Barney! I'll be more careful, I swear!" Clint argued while retrieving his school bag. He pulled out a sheet of paper that had a large red number on it. "I was just really excited, that's all. Look- I passed my test!"

"A seventy-seven, eh? That's probably your highest test grade all year. Good job!"

Tony wrinkled his nose a little at the grade, seeing as it was still pretty low. (A/N: if I got a 79 I would actually be crying)

Clint beamed and scratched at his nose, making the bandage fall off. He noticed and frowned, before sneaking out of the bedroom and to the next room over; the bathroom. His future team trailed him and watched as he used the same exact, cloth band-aid on his nose. They got a glimpse of a large cut; it looked like it came from a piece of glass.

Before leaving, Clint stuck his head out the door to make sure nobody- mostly his father wasn't watching, then he pulled up his dirt ridden shirt to look at something else.

Steve's breath got caught in his throat as he saw the raw, angry, crimson markings of a belt on his back. Natasha noticed this too, but she was to fixated on Clint's stomach. At least a majority of his ribs could be counted and another looked like it had been fractured, but never healed properly.

Tony, on the other hand, didn't follow the others and instead decided to peek at Clint's family. He saw a relatively attractive blonde standing in the kitchen, ready at the stove top with a large pot. A man sat in a plaid armchair with a beer in his hand. Tony could tell from the smell and the other bottles that this man was a heavy drinker.

Tony, Natasha, and Steve had a bad feeling about this.

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