“You can’t do this to me, Carol. We need you here.”

Carol Danvers, better known as Warbird to the people who didn’t have the time to read her books, looked up at the man sitting on the edge of the bed in her living quarters at the Avengers West compound. Clint Barton was watching as Carol placed her clothes and other necessities neatly into her traveling bags. Every piece of clothing was folded meticulously, and everything else was packed with careful precision. Carol was a military girl from long back, and old habits died hard. But sometimes it was necessary to let them go.

“I can’t stay, Clint. Please try and understand.”

“But I don’t understand, ‘Bird.” Clint ran his fingers through his hair, and the lines of his face creased as he frowned deeply. “I know your powers are a little kooky right now, and I know you’re worried about it. Hell, I’m worried about it too. It hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing here, especially lately, but this is the right place for you. We have Hank here. Both of them. I’m not all that bright, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize how smart they are. They can take care of you better than you can on your own.”

Warbird shook her head. “But that’s just it, Clint. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be the Avenger that everybody has to constantly glance over at to make sure she isn’t losing control.”

Clint opened his mouth to speak, but Carol lifted a hand to silence him. “Don’t tell me it isn’t happening, okay? I know. I see it out in the field. I was in the Air Force for a good portion of my life, Clint. We had to constantly watch one another out in the open air. We fought together as a unit, and it was one of the happiest times of my life.”

“Then I really don’t get it,” Clint said. “You have that here with the Avengers. It isn’t any different, is it?”

“No, you’re right.” Carol smiled softly, and Clint felt a lump rise into his throat as he was taken once again with her beauty. “It’s actually better in some ways. My time as an Avenger is something I cherish. Even through the nightmare of my alcoholism, my expulsion from the east coast team, and everything that happened here with Rogue and the situation with my powers. I wouldn’t trade any of it. You’re my family, and I love you. All of you. And when we’re fighting side-by side, I feel alive and pure. I feel like I matter, and that I’m making a difference in the world. And there’s no better feeling than that.

“But when I was in the Air Force and one of the pilots had a problem, that pilot didn’t fly. And the other pilots kept away from him. Not because they were trying to be cruel or because they didn’t want the injured pilot to get better. It was just because they didn’t want something holding them back. They didn’t want any of what had afflicted that pilot to strike them too. Because when you’re flying you can’t let anything distract you. And there’s no way you let a pilot who has an injury, whether it be physical, mental or emotional, get into a plane. They stay grounded. They stay with the doctors trying to fix whatever it is keeping them from climbing into the sky.”

Carol had dropped her eyes while she was speaking, but now she brought them back up to regard Clint. Tears slipped smoothly down her cheeks, and she swiped at them with the back of her hand. “I’m grounded, Clint. I’m a pilot who can’t fly. And I can’t stay here and sit on my hands while the Hanks try to figure it out. The temptation to take to the sky again is too hard to ignore. I joined the Avengers again because Iron Man asked me to, but he didn’t even really have to. I wanted to get back into action, even though I knew I wasn’t ready. And it was a mistake.”

Clint closed his hand over Carol’s, and she placed her free hand on top of his. “I don’t believe that. Not for one second. You’re an asset to this team, and I don’t want you to think any differently. But if there’s nothing I can do to convince you to stay--”

“There’s not,” Carol said, and the tears were gone now. “But I can promise you I’ll be back just as soon as I’m able.”

“You better,” Clint said, and then tugged gently on her hand. “Now give me a damn hug before I change my mind and chain you to the gate.”

"Weapons of Mass Subtraction"

Written by Mike Exner III
Plotted by Mike Exner III and Chris Munn

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me! You’re leaving too?”

“I’m afraid so, my bow-slinging friend,” Hank McCoy said. He was busily tossing clothing and sturdier lab equipment over his head and into a large crate using his large hands and feet. He wasn’t looking back to make sure the items were finding their mark, but it would have been pointless anyway. Nothing hit the ground around the large wooden box. It wasn’t as painstaking a job as Carol’s packing had been, but it was definitely efficient. “I have a number of responsibilities elsewhere that require my immediate attention, and now that Ms. Danvers is no longer in need of my services I see no need to remain here.”

“No reason to-“ Clint pressed his fingers between his eyebrows in an effort to relieve the pressure building behind his eyes. “So you already know Carol is leaving?”

“Of course. I believe I was the first person she informed.”

“Terrific,” Clint said. His eyes immediately darted over to where Hank Pym was sitting, hunched over his own lab station. “Did you know about this, Hank? I’d hate to think that I’m the only one in the dark about the comings and goings of the members of my own team.”

“Dr. Pym was unaware, Hawkeye. He knew I was leaving, and therefore graciously offered to shrink the considerable bulk of this crate I’m using to pack my life away using his Pym particles, but nothing more. Carol called me up to her room so we could have a private discussion. Think of it as doctor-patient privilege if you like.”

Hawkeye leaned back onto the workbench Beast was gradually clearing of his belongings. “So I’m losing three Avengers in the span of a week. This is ridiculous. It took me the better part of a month just to put this team together, and now everybody is turning tail on me.”

“Clint,” Beast said, and paused long enough to place a blue-furred hand on the shoulder of the purple-clad archer. “I don’t want you to think of my departure, or that of any of the others, as a reflection upon you. Carol made the decision she felt was best for her and the team. She hasn’t taken this course of action because she thinks you’re incapable as a friend or a leader, and neither have I. There are things in life more important than a roof over our head and a monthly stipend, Hawkeye. Carol needs to get her head right, and I need to get back to what is ultimately the most important thing in my life. My work. Don’t begrudge us that simply because things aren’t working out exactly as you planned. In life, I’m afraid, plans are often no more than words misplaced in the wind.”

Hawkeye felt the grin rise to his lips, and he made no effort to conceal it. “You know something, Hank? That is the corniest thing I’ve ever heard. Seriously, did you get that out of a Cracker Jack box or something? I expect more from your motivational speeches, and that honestly wasn’t up to par. You’re supposed to be making me feel better. You are a doctor, aren’t you?”

“Ah, there he is,” Beast said, rolling his eyes as he went back to his work. “There is the Hawkeye I remember so well. I shall miss you dearly once I’m gone. Perhaps I’ll leave a steaming, putrescent present on your pillow before I catch my ride to the airport.”

“You do and you’ll be leaving with an arrow in your butt, fuzzball,” Hawkeye said, narrowing his eyes. He clapped Beast good-naturedly on the back, and that’s when Hank Pym, who had been silently tinkering for the entire exchange, finally cracked. He began to laugh, and he swiveled on his stool to regard his friends. There were tears streaming from his eyes, and his face was bright red. The scientist had to grip his knees to keep from falling forward off of his stool and onto the floor. Hawkeye and Beast stood looking at their friend, dumbfounded into slack-jawed astonishment. A moment later, the guffaws of Hank McCoy and Clint Barton joined him.

“Well, as nice as I’m sure the moment was, it still leaves us in a bit of a quandary, Clint.”

“You can say that again,” Hawkeye said. He was looking down at Iron Man as the golden Avenger tinkered inside the guts of the large picture-tube monitor attached to the system Clint - and only Clint, Tony would have happily pointed out - used for monitor duty and to perform research on the numerous case files and other pertinent information housed within the Avenger database. “Still, it was nice to hear Hank laugh. There were times when I honestly thought I’d never hear it again. He’s made some pretty big strides since that tussle we had in San Francisco. Hopefully we can keep him on the right track.”

“Mmm hmm. Can you hand me that soldering iron?”

“Don’t you have one in your armor?” Clint said, as he reached into the toolbox sitting beside him, and slapped the device into Iron Man’s open palm.

Tony sighed, and maneuvered the tool into his cramped working environment. “I do, but sometimes I like to work with my hands.”

Clint smirked. “So why are you wearing the armor then? Don’t tell me you’re more comfortable with it on rather than off now. I think that might necessitate a little one on one with the company therapist, Anthony.”

Stark reached his other arm out of the monitor housing, and for a moment Clint thought he’d flip him the bird. Instead a single crimson digit pointed across the room to the large, glass viewing-screen leaning against the far wall. “Do you have any idea how much that thing weighs?” Tony said, his electronically amplified voice carrying perfectly through the metal and wires he was toying with. “The screen is so old I think the glass we used to craft it was made from vintage Coke bottles. You have really got to get with the times, Barton. The new computer and monitoring system is user-friendly. I promise it won’t hurt your widdle brain.”

“Low blow, tin-pants,” Hawkeye said, and bounced a tiny screw off the hull of Iron Man’s armor.

Tony slowly backed out of the frame and straightened. “Well, it’s fixed. For now. But I’m honestly not sure how much longer she’ll hold out. We’re going to have to wean you off of this old-timey equipment.”

“All right, all right. I’ll give it a shot, okay? Now about this problem we’re having with the roster-“

“I think crisis might be a better word for it,” Iron Man said. He tossed the soldering iron back into his toolbox and snapped the lid shut. “Three members out the door, a fourth is AWOL, and only five of us are left. And no offense, but as battle-tested as you, Two-Gun, and the Wasp are, I don’t like our odds power-wise either. Darkhawk is our second most-powerful member, and that doesn’t sit too well with me. The way things stand if we have to face another fiasco like we experienced in San Francisco, we’re toast.”

Hawkeye stifled a frown. “I hear you.”

“I honestly think we’re going to need to go on another recruitment drive here pretty soon,” Iron Man said, getting to his feet. He moved over to the glass picture screen and picked it up with a grunt. “There have to be some proven reserve Avengers out there willing to buckle down and return to active status.”

Hawkeye stroked the back of his neck, watching as Iron Man fitted the glass fixture into place. “Well, if all else fails we can at least try to make a run with the five-man roster. Hell, if I could get the kooky quartet running as a well-oiled machine, I’m sure I can manage this motley crew.”

“Oh, so it was your leadership abilities that pulled the team together when the rest of us took a leave of absence,” Iron Man said as he thumbed the power to the computer bank and watched as it hummed to life. “I could have sworn somebody else was leading around that time. Big guy, blond hair, penchant for wearing the American flag as a costume. Maybe you know him.”

Hawkeye grinned. “See, that was what the media wanted you to think, chrome dome. It was really all about your friendly neighborhood Hawkeye. In our quartet, Steve played the tuba. He had the biggest instrument, and he made the most noise, but I was the conductor, buddy boy.”

“Give me a break,” Iron Man said, and turned to leave. “You’re on monitor duty, fearless leader. Enjoy.”

Hawkeye spread his hands and grinned. “What? What’d I say?”

“Care for another, pard?” Matt Hawk said, and extended his hand out to the man sitting across from him.

“Don’t mind if I do, friend,” Clint Barton said, and removed the icy cold can of beer from the clutches of the Two-Gun Kid. He curled his fingers beneath the tab, and the can barked as the seal was broken. Hawkeye took a long swig, and set the can down on the control panel in front of him. “Just don’t tell Tony I was sharing a six-pack during monitor duty. And definitely don’t tell him I had an open beverage anywhere near his equipment.”

Two-Gun smiled. “My lips are sealed. ‘Course, seein’ as I’m the one what brought you the beverage in the first place, I doubt I’d be any better off if the locomotive-man came steamin’ in here.”

“You’re probably right,” Hawkeye said around a chuckle. “Man, it is nice to finally get a chance to sit down and unwind. The way things have been going lately, I thought I’d never get the chance again.”

“Has been a bit rough ‘round here lately,” Matt said, and dropped his eyes. “Pris was a good gal though, don’tcha think? Didn’t sit too well with me the way that Moon Knight fella took her to the woodshed. Had a mind to put hands on him afterwards myself.”

Hawkeye nodded. “Agreed. But as much as I hate to say it, if Vagabond had just owned up from the very beginning with us, all of the things that happened could have been avoided. Hell, the death of Zemo might have even been avoided. I’m not going to shed any tears for that megalomaniac, but he’d be in custody right now if Priscilla could have trusted us enough to tell us her secret. We could have handled it for her. That’s what a team does for you.”

Clint, I…” Matt said. He was gripping the neck of his bottle so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. He forced himself to relax his grip. “I have something I need to talk to you about, and-“

“Clint Barton!”

Matt whirled around, and Clint nearly fell from his chair as he took his feet off the control panel of the monitoring station. Hawkeye glanced sheepishly behind him and was greeted by the stern gaze of the former Avenger chairwoman, Janet Van Dyne, more famously known as the Wasp.

“Uh…” Hawkeye said, dropping his eyes from Jan down to the beer in his hand and back up to regard her again. “Hey, Jan. This, um… This isn’t what it looks like.”

The Wasp was rapidly tapping her foot on the tile of the floor, and she pointed a finger directly at Clint. “I can’t believe you, Clint. I come in here to find you drinking, goofing off with your friend, getting crud on the control panel from your dirty feet-”

“Well, my feet aren’t really that dirty, and-“

Jan sliced at the air with her hand, silencing Clint. “And you’re actually on monitor duty while you’re doing it? Are you crazy? Get out of here you big lug. I’ll take over for you.”

“Okay, okay. You better leave, Matt, before-“ Hawkeye did a double-take. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me. Take it out into the parlor before I change my mind,” Jan said. She was smiling openly now.

Hawkeye started laughing as he hoisted himself from his chair. “You had me going for a minute there, Jannie. I was having flashbacks to the hardnosed east coast team-leader of times past.”

Jan swatted Hawkeye on the shoulder as he and Matt Hawk filed past her on their way out. “You keep messing around on the job, and those days will be back sooner than you think.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hawkeye said, pantomiming a talking motion with his hand. Matt Hawk rolled his eyes at Clint.

“That’s just gonna get ya into even more trouble, pard.”

“Don’t I know it,” Hawkeye said. He nudged Matt with his elbow as they walked down the hallway towards the parlor. “Now what were you about to say before we were so opportunely interrupted? Something you needed to talk to me about?”

Matt shrugged. “Naw, nothin’ so important that it can’t wait while we finish our beers. I’ve still got ta drink ya under the table, after all.”

“Fat chance of that happening,” Hawkeye said. He moved into the parlor and set his beer down atop one of the end tables next to the sofa. It was then that he noticed Matt hadn’t entered with him. The sound of breaking glass caused the avenging archer to whip his head around.

“Matt?”

The Two-Gun Kid was standing in the doorway that led into the hall that stretched into the heart of the west coast compound. He was looking down in horror at the broken shards of the beer bottle that had shattered when it hit the floor.

“No. No, please. This can’t be happenin’. Not now,” Matt said. Hawkeye was struck by the wavering quality of his voice. It was almost as though Matt were talking through static.

Hawkeye took a step forward. “It’s all right, Matt. It’s just a little glass. We can clean it up. It’s not a problem.”

Matthew Hawk lifted his head to look at his friend. Clint Barton was struck again, but this time by the haunted look in the eyes of the Two-Gun Kid. The look froze him to the spot, and turned his blood into ice.

“Matt, what is it? What’s wrong with you?” Hawkeye said, and then his sharp eyes caught movement from the other side of the room. He turned his head, and watched in wonder as a section of the air began to ripple. A shimmering light filled the wavering portion of space, and as Hawkeye and Two-Gun watched, the enigmatic figure known as Sayge floated through the opening and into the room.

“Matthew Hawk,” Sayge said, the words flowing from the dark void enveloped by the brilliant white hood concealing his - or her, Hawkeye hadn’t a clue - features. “Your time has come. You are no longer needed on this plane of existence.”

“This is getting ridiculous,” Hawkeye said. He was already activating the beacon in his Avengers ID card. The rest of the troops would be along in moments. “Looking like a reject from The Christmas Carol doesn’t give you the right to bust in here anytime you feel like it with your weird warnings and premonitions. I’m getting awful sick of-”

“No!” Matt said. Hawkeye was stopped cold by the hard, ugly tone of voice his friend used. He looked over, and Matthew Hawk was stalking towards Sayge. His face was twisted with rage. “It ain’t time yet. He said I’d be able to stay ‘til I saw Kang, and I ain’t seen him. You damn monster. You can’t take me from here now. I’ve already lost everything. Ya can’t take this from me too.”

“Matt, what are you talking about?” Hawkeye said. The mention of the word Kang had sent his mind spinning. Everything was happening so fast. “What in the hell is going on here?”

“Hawkeye,” Matt said. Hawkeye looked past his friend, and he was pleased to see that Jan was running down the hallway toward them from the monitor room. It only took Hawkeye another second to realize that he could only see down the hallway because he was looking right through the Two-Gun Kid. His friend was beginning to fade away.

“My god, Matt. What… what’s happening to you?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Iron Man said. He was stepping into the parlor behind Hawkeye with Darkhawk and Hank Pym trailing just a few steps behind.

Matt Hawk shook his head and ran his hands over his face. Hawkeye half-expected them to pass right through. “I didn’t want it to come out like this, ya’ll. I hope ya believe me when I say that.”

“Didn’t want what to come out like this, Matt?” Darkhawk said. Even through the modulated tone his helmet caused, Hawkeye could still hear the emotion in his voice.

“I’m…” Matt said. He dropped his eyes, and kicked gently at the floor in frustration. His foot passed right through the ground. Jan had passed by him, and was standing near Hank. Two-Gun raised his eyes, and looked intently at the Avengers gathered before him. “I’m not the man you thought I was. Not entirely, is what I mean to say. I’m Matt Hawk, and I’m an Avenger, but that’s not the only reason I’m here.”

Hawkeye felt a lump rise into his throat, and he wasn’t surprised to find he couldn’t speak around it. Iron Man had no such difficulty, and his voice was as hard as his namesake. “And what is the reason, Two-Gun? What is it you have to tell us?”

“This is a pointless conversation, Avengers. I will show you what you wish to see,” Sayge said, and passed a hand through the air. Energy erupted from the cloak enshrouding the apparition, and from it, images began to form. The Avengers watched as the Two-Gun Kid stood before the graves of his wife and daughter. They watched as he walked away, and didn’t stop until he found his way into the unrelenting, unforgiving heat of the desert. They watched as he wailed in rage at the sky, and tore at his clothes and his hair in pain and grief. They watched as he walked, birds of prey circling overhead in eager anticipation of the inevitable. They watched as the man finally collapsed, content to die. They watched him close his eyes a final time; but when he awoke he was no longer in the desert. The Avengers watched as the Two-Gun Kid looked up and found the cold, calculating eyes of Immortus regarding him.

“That’s enough, Sayge! I’ve seen enough,” Matthew Hawk said, and swiped at the visions. To his surprise, they actually did fade. Sayge did not protest, and so the Two-Gun Kid turned his attention to the Avengers. “I can’t live it over again. The things I went through. How desperate I was. Ain’t no point in avoidin’ it no more. You saw Immortus found me out there in the desert, but what ya didn’t see was that he saved my life. He… he gave me a chance at new life. And he said all I had to do in return was do him a favor.”

“You’re a traitor,” Iron Man said. His voice was no more than a growl, and his piercing blue eyes blazed from the slits in his golden helmet. “What was the plan, Two-Gun? Were you sent here to study our weaknesses and formulate the best time for Immortus to strike? Maybe gun us down in our sleep? You actually sat in judgment of Vagabond with the rest of us, and you’re no better than she was, you miserable-”

“That’s enough, Iron Man,” Hawkeye said. His look was enough to stop Iron Man from continuing. He looked back to Two-Gun. “I want to hear it from you, Matt. What was it you were doing here? Was it just to work for Immortus? Were you trying to have us betrayed? Were you trying to have us killed?”

Matt shook his head. “Clint, I’d never do something like that. Ya gotta believe me. I didn’t want to hurt anybody. If Immortus had asked me to do anythin’ ta hurt ya’ll, I’d a spit in his face. He just asked me to keep an eye out fer that Kang fella. That was all, and that was it.”

“To watch for…?“ Hawkeye said. He spread his arms in frustration. “Fine, you were sent to watch for Kang. I’ll take you at your word, Matt. But why do it at all? Why would you even consider working for Immortus? You know what he is. What he’s done. I know he saved your life, but-”

“I know, Clint. Believe me, I know it. But after-“ Matt Hawk lifted his head, and even though his corporeal form was nearly gone now, Hawkeye could still see the terrible pain behind his eyes. “After everything I went through. What with losin’ Nancy and Virginia. My little Ginny. You got to understand that I fell, Clint. I fell into a hole so deep and so dark that I never thought I’d climb my way out again. Not ever. I needed somethin’. Somethin’ to help mend that awful wound splittin’ my heart right down the middle. And I ain’t sayin’ it was right, because I know it wasn’t. But he gave me the chance to come back to a place where I knew I’d be wanted, if only for a short time. Right here with ya’ll. All I had ta do was keep my eyes open and let ‘im know if I saw that green ‘n purple-clad bandit anywhere. It seemed like such a small price to pay. And seein’ you again, and joining up with this wild bunch has shown me that even if what I did wasn’t the right thing, it was still the right choice for me. Because I got the chance to see ya’ll again. To be a part of the Avengers, and to make a little bit of difference again. Ain’t nothin’ can ever take that away from me.

“I wish I had more time now. Time to explain everything, and time just to, I don’t know- to sit down with all a ya and share a drink, I guess. And say goodbye the right way. But I ain’t got the time, and I’ll regret that to the day I die. I didn’t want to wrong nobody, Clint, least of all you. I consider you the best friend I got left in this or any other time. That may not mean much to ya now, but I promise ya it’s the truth.”

“Matt,” Hawkeye said, and tried to place his hands on the shoulders of the Two-Gun Kid. His fingers passed through the cowboy as if Matthew Hawk were nothing more than a ghost. “I don’t have the words.”

“I know. I ain’t got ‘em neither.” Matt tipped his hat and caught Hawkeye’s eyes with his own. “Take care of yerself, archer. I got the feeling we’ll see one another again before long.”

As Hawkeye and the other assembled Avengers looked on, Matthew Hawk turned on his heels and began walking toward the apparition hovering a short distance away. The flowing robes that surrounded Sayge, already a white so pure it was difficult to behold, suddenly flared with a piercing light that enveloped the Two-Gun Kid. Hawkeye shielded his eyes with the back of his hand, struggling to keep his sharp eyes fixed on the ghostly form of his friend. But as the light melted the shadows and filled the room completely, Hawkeye felt his retinas begin to sting and his head begin to swim. He reached a hand out and took hold of the arm of a nearby sofa to steady his senses, and though his eyes left the spot where Matthew Hawk had stood only seconds before, when he looked again the Two-Gun Kid was gone.

“I should have known you’d be sticking around, Casper.”

Hawkeye was looking at the floating form of Sayge, and the rest of the Avengers followed his gaze. Sayge beckoned towards them ominously with a long-fingered hand. “The last time we conversed, your ranks were greater. But though your numbers have weakened, the threat to your world has not. You and your ilk shall still be called upon to combat a great peril. Three harbingers: the parasite, the revived one, the caretakers of ages, and then the end of all that is. Nothing has changed.”

“But wait,” Hawkeye said. His face was wrinkled in confusion. “We already fought a parasite. The H’ythra. Was that the parasite you meant? Is Immortus the caretaker of ages? And what about Matt? What did you do with him?”

Hawkeye stepped forward, but it was impossible to read anything in the ebon depths that served as the face of Sayge as the entity faded from sight. The echo of its final words reverberated throughout the parlor. “Prepare yourselves.”

Iron Man frowned behind his faceplate, and though Hawkeye couldn’t see it, he could hear it in his voice. “What was that you were saying before about the kooky quartet?”

“Last call for Flight 162, Los Angeles, California to Seattle, Washington. All passengers are required to present their boarding passes at the gate.”

Carol Danvers stepped forward as the line she was in steadily shuffled forward. Most of the plane had already been boarded, but there were still a number of passengers still waiting. Every fifth person was required to step aside and remove his or her shoes as a security precaution. Carol had her Avengers identification card - as good as any state license - and her boarding pass clutched in one hand, and a carry-on over her shoulder. She had briefly considered just shipping her luggage from the compound and flying home along the northern coast, as it was truly beautiful during this time of year. She’d done it before more than once, and usually made excellent time. But as much as her powers had fluctuated over the past few weeks, she knew it’d be a bad idea.

There were only a few more people between her and the gate, but as soon as she felt the hand wrap around her arm near the elbow she knew it was going to be another few minutes before she got on board. Maybe if she flashed her Avengers ID card they’d reconsider making her remove her shoes. She turned toward the security guard who had grabbed her, and her mouth popped open to protest. Before she could say anything, Clint Barton leaned forward and planted a kiss firmly on her lips. She drew back slightly in mounting surprise, but the archer followed her, and soon she was returning his kiss with her own sweet vigor. They stood there, and Carol lost her place in line as the other passengers reluctantly trundled by on their way to the gate.

They finally broke the kiss, and Carol felt a deep blush rise into her neck and spread its way through her cheeks. Clint Barton was blushing a bit himself, and his breath came in quick bursts.

“I rushed here as quick as I could,” Clint said. He exhaled heavily and grinned. “Managed to get past security by flashing my ID card. I couldn’t let you leave without telling you how I felt. I’m not so good at-“

Carol stopped him by leaning forward and locking lips with the archer again. Clint lifted his hands to her face, and cupped her chin. Carol’s hand found the back of Hawkeye’s head, and she ran her fingertips softly through his hair. The world melted away around them.

“Uh, excuse me,” a voice said, intruding on their moment. Carol felt a finger gently prod her shoulder. “Ma’am, you’re going to have to board now, or you’re going to miss your flight.”

Carol broke the kiss, and her face was alight. Clint took his hands from her soft skin and clasped them together to keep from grabbing her again. “I guess you should probably get going now.”

“Yeah,” Carol said. “I guess I should. Clint, I’m… I’m really glad you came.”

Clint smiled, and he motioned to the gate behind her. “I’m glad I did too. Now get on before they leave without you.”

Carol turned around and strode into the gate. Clint watched as she moved down the walkway and disappeared around the corner. He watched as the plane taxied away from the gate and made its way onto the runway, and then watched as the plane took flight. He was still watching long after it disappeared from sight.

Next Issue: The ranks of the Avengers have been pared to four. Can Hawkeye, Iron Man, Wasp and Darkhawk face down the vilest villains of the Avengers? Of course not! So they’re going on vacation to Hawaii instead.

THIS SPACE FOR RENT!

Well, that was an interesting issue, wasn’t it? Howdy, folks. My name is Mike Exner III, and I’ll be writing Avengers West Coast for the foreseeable future. First of all, I’d just like to thank Russ Anderson and Chris Munn for putting together a truly stellar run to this point. I am a huge fan of both the concept of this series, and the content that has come before, and I’ll do my very best to live up to the tradition of the Whackos.

With that said, I’m sure you might be wondering why the heck I’ve disassembled most of the roster Chris and Russ built. Well, Chris Munn is still heavily involved in this title, so if a member of the team you loved is gone now, it was probably his fault. If a member you didn’t like left, that was all my idea.

Love me!

In all seriousness, the seeds of this issue were planted long before I knew I’d be writing this title. Chris Munn and Russ Anderson cultivated this storyline, and all I had to do was harvest it. And while Two-Gun, Warbird, Beast, and Vagabond are gone now; they will not be forgotten. While the disassembling was rapid, the things that took place in the early stages of this title will have ramifications on my run for issues to come. And don’t forget Captain Marvel. I certainly haven’t.

But this is a new era for the Whackos, and therefore I’d like to rename the letter column. If anybody has any ideas about that, feel free to send me your suggestions. The one I feel is the best will be utilized, and I might even give you credit for it.

I’m going to try and have a lot of fun with this title, and I hope you stick around for the ride. And don’t worry too much about the roster. I’ll fill it in before long. We won’t be renaming this title The Kooky Quartet anytime soon.

…But it’ll be fun while it lasts.

-Mike Exner III
02/10/06