Tony is in his room, 12 years old and very upset. He'd just won a competion against people who were over twice his age, and his dad had paid almost no attention to him, instead giving someone else his complements and saying that he thought that they should have won instead.

The moment he had gotten back home, he'd shouted at his father. Yes, he shouted at him. Because it just wasn't fair! There was absolutely no reason that his stupid dad shouldn't have paid him some attention.

Dad had gotten really, really angry. He'd shouted back, he'd said hurtful things that would stay with Tony forever. He'd said that he was disappointed. That he was disappointed in himself for even letting Tony have such a big head in the first place.

And then Howard, not Dad anymore because there was no way a real father would do this, hit him.

It had come so suddenly that at first, Tony didn't notice the pain. It was just a small sting, but it meant so much more than that and it hurt.

Thinking over it made it worse, so Tony cried himself to sleep that night.

*A*

Bruce was battered and hurt. He was past crying about his situation. That had stopped when his mommy had died when he was six. He knew then that his dad was completely mad and crying would never make him stop.

He'd tried to run away today. If he could get to the police station then maybe he'd be able to tell them what his dad was doing, what he'd done in the past.

But he hadn't managed it. He'd made it about halfway there before his dad found him.

And when he'd gotten Bruce home, he'd shouted at him, and hit him with the big, gilded belt that his dad only ever used for hitting him with, he never wore it. It was sad really. Had it not been the cause of a lot of Bruce's pain, he would have considered it a very nice belt. It was one of the most expensive things in the house, too.

But he slept that night, not easily at all, but he slept. And hoped that maybe, just maybe, his life would be better tomorrow.

*A*

Clint was unhappy. Sure, he was better off, probably, in this stupid children's home than he had been at the home he'd grown up in, what with his abusive, drunk father, rather pathetic mother who never stood up for him and Barney, and the fact that his studies were going terribly.

They weren't really going much better now, but at least his teachers had some form of understanding on why he couldn't concentrate in school. Whether what they thought was the truth or not, he got rather a lot of people saying that they were sorry about his loss and they understood. Clint knew that they didn't understand, and that they never really would.

Barney wanted to run away from this school, and the children's home, go to the circus that was currently in town. Clint honestly thought that the circus would most likely just return them to where they came from, but he was willing to go through with his brother's scheme, because he was sure that it would make Barney happy, and he owed Barney a lot for protection earlier in his life.

So, now, after a long day in the weekend that could have been spent doing his homework so he didn't get even more detentions, or playing in the park, or in the woods, or at the gym in the absolutely crap archery range, but was actually spent pouring over the posters for the circus, and packing things for their new life.

Clint lay awake that night, worrying.

*A*

Tony woke with a shock. Damn it, he always had those kind of dreams when he fell asleep on the workshop floor. He hated Howard, and he made the fact known to the world, and that was one of the reasons why. Because that wasn't the only time that Howard had hit him.

Sighing as JARVIS gave him the time, 3:17 AM, he gave up on sleeping. There was no point, really. He'd gotten three hours of sleep, that was enough, right?

He went up to what was referred to as the communal kitchen, where basically you could find one of the Avengers at any time. Steve kept some kind of weird schedule, up at 6, ate breakfast, went for a run, came back and cooked breakfast for their forced breakfast that they had to eat as a team.

Bruce was often up at odd times. He'd never said why, but Tony had a good idea.

Natasha was often there every so often.

Clint was there most nights, similar to Bruce and Tony himself.

So it wasn't a surprise for Tony when he found both Bruce and Clint in the kitchen. Bruce was making coffee, and smiled slightly at Tony when he entered.

"I'll put some more water in the kettle." Bruce offered.

Tony nodded. "Is this a communal 3 o clock coffee?"

"Heck yeah." Clint said. "Except Bruce, who's having tea like the old English lady he is."

"I resent that suggestion." Bruce said. "Besides, coffee is a stimulant."

"But alcohol is a depressant. You don't drink that." Tony said.

"There's a good reason I don't drink alcohol. Like the reason that is also why I'm up now."

"Communal post-nightmare 3 o clock coffee and tea?"

"Yeah." Clint said, and Bruce nodded his agreement. "Daddy issues?"

"Mmm." Tony hummed, not really trusting his voice to respond. "Parents can be shit. Mine are long dead, but you know. Stuff."

"Mine have been dead for longer." Clint said. "But, you know, car crash. Unexpected. Blah blah blah."

"Karma catches up with people like that." Bruce commented. "Especially when other people get caught in the crossfire."

'Karma never caught up with me like it did my father.' Tony thought bitterly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. "So, who wants to go first?" Clint asked.

"It was a dream about the first time I tried to run away from home." Bruce supplied. "I only made it half way to the police station."

"Mine was a dream about how shit it was at the home and Barney's plan to run away, which was more successful than I thought it would be."

Tony sighed. "Mine was about the first time my father hit me. I guess I had a better time of it than you guys, just a couple years, but until then, I still craved my father's approval more than anything. It was a good job kidnappers never worked that out of they could have gotten me to do a lot of things."

By now the coffee was finished, as was Bruce's tea, so Clint poured everyone their respective cups and they sat there for a little, waiting the silence out until they became comfortable enough to speak again. "It helps that there's someone here for me." Bruce said quietly. "I never hid the fact if anyone had asked, but only a couple of people knew, before it happened and now anyone who has the SHIELD clearance can read my file and find out. You all knew, when you met me, didn't you?"

Clint looked at his mug of coffee, but Tony shook his head. "I didn't bother with anyone's file. I just hope no one read mine, because there is no database in the world except on my private servers that has much correct data on me at all." He paused for a moment. "It's a wonder we're not all locked up in a rubber room."

Clint scoffed in disbelief, but then froze. "Well, if you and Doc are less sane than you make out maybe it isn't that impossible."

Bruce nodded briefly. "Oh, you, uh, weren't there when there was a rather large argument and I ended up shouting to the Helicarrier cameras that I tried to commit suicide."

"And I thought that everyone knew I needed an Oscar for my acting efforts." Tony said blandly.

"Well, just so you guys know, if some stupid people decide that we should be locked up because we're crazy, I have your back." Clint said.

*A*

The Tower was in ruins. SHIELD swarmed like ants over the wreckage, looking for any signs of the Subjects. It had been merely three weeks since Iron Man, Hawkeye and the Hulk had been deemed unfit to be Avengers. They had refused to be contained in the suitable manner, and the Tower had been under siege for two weeks, until yesterday, it suddenly fell down, even though it had shown no previous signs of weakness. As far as anyone could tell, no one had been harmed in the blast, as the Tower had been evacuated the moment the three Avengers were deemed dangerous. It was unknown if Hawkeye, Iron Man and the Hulk had been in the Tower at the time.

Within a few days the SHIELD systems crashed and all information stored there was irreparably lost. The source of the attack could not be found.

Stark Industries was now a lost cause, losing money fast. It was, quite suddenly, bankrupt. Stark had managed to withdraw his share on it. It seemed he was alive

The next place that was besieged was the mansion Stark owned in Malibu. After a week, all the defences dropped and when SHIELD got down to the basement/workshop, there were nearly thirty empty capsules where Iron Man suits were kept. They were even labelled.

SHIELD were very, very worried.

Banner, Stark and Barton were seen many times in public, all over the world for the next year. But no one ever got there fast enough to take pictures or interact with the criminals.

SHIELD had a whole section devoted to the capture of the three fugitives. When the Avengers weren't trying desperately, and often futilely, trying to clear threats quickly without the intervention of the various vigilantes, which included the three men they were trying to hunt down, they were looking for them.

Then, after two years of constant hunting and battles, Iron Man, Hulk and Hawkeye were found and captured.