A/N: This is a crossover between The Avengers, Bourne Legacy, and Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol.

This assumes you've seen at least Bourne Ultimatum and Legacy, Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, Iron Man/IM2, The Coulson short On the Way to Thor's Hammer, and The Avengers.

Timeline wise we are in the middle of Legacy, before Iron Man, and after Brandt is the protection detail for Ethan and his wife when starting this fic.


Coulson glared at the intel report on the death at Waterloo Station and the related operations. He hurried down the hallway, younger agents scattering to get out of his way. He stuck his head into Fury's office. "Sir, we have a situation. We need to bring Barton in."

Fury didn't look up from the papers in front of him. "He's in the middle of a operation we've been working on for three years, Coulson. You know that."

"Jason Bourne is alive."

Fury's head snapped up. "How bad is it?"

"Indications are shaping up to a total burn, sir." Coulson stepped inside the office completely and pulled the door closed. "It appears Kenneth Kitsom isn't dead and is one of the operatives for a project connected to Treadstone."

Fury's nose wrinkled as he cursed under his breath. "Do we know where the IMF has Brandt right now?"

"On extended retraining due to that near miss with the lost protection detail eight months ago."

"Pull in Barton." Fury looked up. "Find out how much is going to burn. We will try to pick up anything that survives."

"Sure thing, Boss." Coulson hauled ass down the hall and made a mental note to check the surveillance for some decent facial expression captures of the younger agents' reactions to him hurrying.


Clint Barton sighed as he limped off the quinjet and handed Coulson his go bag. "What the hell went wrong? We were almost in, Coulson."

Coulson frowned and handed him a file. "Jason Bourne isn't dead."

"Duh." Clint narrowed his eyes at the amount of classified tape adorning the file in his hands. "I could have told you that when they didn't find a body in Moscow." He flicked open the file and stared. "Oh." Clint looked up at Coulson. "I thought Kenneth died in a hit on his convoy."

"So did I." Coulson took the file back from Clint's numb fingers. "We were attributing the signal ghosts on facial recognition to Brandt."

"Has someone told him yet."

"He's in retraining."

Clint snorted. "Of course, he is." He scrubbed his hand through his hair. "Well? Can we get Kenneth out of this thing? He's not exactly the sort of person you just want to hand to a rogue agency."

Coulson held the door for Clint as they headed deeper into the Hellicarrier. "He's been in there for years, Clint. I finally got ahold of his entire file just before you landed. They altered him."

Clint stripped down and stepped into a shower stall as Coulson started to layout clean clothes for him. "Altered, how exactly?"

"He has a whole new identity."

"Well, considering he's supposed to be dead and all, I figured that much."

"Barton."

Clint grimaced as he scrubbed the sand out of his hair. "Sorry, Phil."

"He's being called Aaron Cross. From what medical can make of the virology it looks like they gave him a better uptake of oxygen and more intelligence."

"So, we're talking Super Soldier stuff?"

"Something like it." Coulson handed Clint a towel as he emerged from the shower. "We need to keep you in until we're sure they aren't hunting him any longer."

"I'm not going to just sit by while they kill him." Clint dragged his shirt on and pulled up his pants as Phil sat down beside him. "Don't tell me I have to, Phil. Please."

"He may not even remember you."

Clint shrugged. "So? We'll have new conversations. I don't care. He was a nice kid that they never should have allowed to drive a Humvee, okay? Just because he's smarter now doesn't mean he deserves to have his own agency hunt him down. He's not even compromised."

"Okay." Phil stood up. "Let's see if we can track him down without getting him killed, shall we?"

With a grin, Clint shoved his feet into his boots for base use only. "Let's go root for the underdog."


William frowned at the television coverage for the fifth time that day. "This isn't right." He looked around at the other anylists-in-training's blank faces and then back at the news. "This isn't an isolated incident."

There was a knock on the door of their classroom and the deputy head of intel stuck her head in the room. "Brandt. Come with me, please."

William glanced at the coverage one more time before following along. Something was seriously wrong.


Aaron didn't breathe easy until they were in a tiny beach hut in the middle of who-the-hell-knows and under the cover of a very thick canopy of trees with a nice cave system behind them he'd be exploring as soon as his thigh healed up. "You okay, Doc?"

Marta looked up from the maps she had spread in front of her. "I'm aright." She smiled at him. "Sore."

He leaned his head back on the pillow she'd stuffed under his head a little while ago. "Yeah. That'll get worse."

Her smiled widened. "You'd know." She lost her smile and looked down at the maps in front of herself. "I can't even let my sister have a clue I'm alive, can I?"

"Unless it is a clue you know that only she'd understand coming from a postcard, no, Doc."

"I'll think about it." She came over and sat next to his hip on the bed. "Your head feeling okay?"

He blinked up at the ceiling. "Yeah, actually. I'm not feeling dizzy or anything. Just like I took a blue pill an hour or two ago. Only it doesn't seem to be wearing down."

"That's good." She grinned. "I don't think we could go back to the factory."

"No." He patted her on the forearm. "Lay down. You'll sleep if you hold still for a little while."

She snuggled in against his side. "I killed a man."

"Don't worry about it, Doc. It was either him or us." He closed his eyes as he vowed to himself not to put her into a position to have to kill if it wasn't the last resort. "It could have been lots worse." He fell asleep with her breathing ghosting over his chest.


Phillip Coulson stepped off the fishing trawler onto the beach of a tiny island in the middle of nothing. He smiled at the woman peering at him from around the doorjamb of the little hut. "I'm not here to kill anyone." He kept his empty hands spread and stepped up onto the beach so the lapping water didn't get his pant legs wet. "I'm Agent Coulson and I need to speak to Kenneth."

She leaned her head out a little more. "And I'm just supposed to say sure, I'll go get him, is that it?"

Phil smiled. "No. You're supposed to tell me you don't know anyone named Kenneth." He settled on the log in front of their porch and lifted his sunglasses from his face. "Ma'am, I don't work for any of the programs that were burning Outcome. The only reason I even noticed is that Mr. Cross bears a remarkable resemblance to one of my operatives. And by remarkable I mean they could pass for twins."

Her eyes widened. "Twins?"

He gave her credit for not glancing up and left to Aaron's position in the trees. "They aren't actually related. None of the three of them, but they all look enough alike to give even the best facial recognition programs hissy fits."

"You said another man. Not two." She edged out a little further.

"The other one isn't my operative. He is with IMF."

"They are crazy motherfuckers." Aaron dropped down from his tree, but stayed back with his handgun trained on Phil. "You don't seem worried."

Phil smiled a little. "I'm not worried."

Marta moved into the doorway fully. "Why aren't you worried?"

Phil clasped his hands in his lap and crossed his feet at the ankles. "Mr. Cross won't kill me until he has at least heard what I have to say."

Aaron glared at him. "Quit calling me Mr. Cross. You know my original name?"

"Kenneth Kitsom, yes. We met once. The first time your face ticked off our facial recognition programing. You were very nice. Worried I was going to give you a test, if I remember right. I wasn't really. Just trying to figure out whither you were my operative with a bad concussion." Phil shrugged. "You weren't, obviously. Until last week I thought you had died a couple of months later when your convoy was hit by a roadside bomb."

"Which alphabet soup agency are you from?"

"SHEILD." Phil smiled at Aaron's grimace. "It stands for a terribly long name you don't really care about knowing."

Marta looked around the shoreline. "How did you find us?"

"I asked my two best operatives where they'd go. The only place we all agreed on was this area." Phil lifted his chin at the trees Aaron was still standing under. "Neither of you have made a mistake. The satellites show trees and more trees."

Aaron let out a long stream of air. "Okay. Why are you here?"

"Job offer."

Marta's eyebrows climbed her forehead. "Are you serious?" She cocked her head and turned towards Aaron. "Did I smack my head during the motorcycle crash? I'm hallucinating, right?"

Aaron held up his hand and cocked his head as he looked up and out at the water. "Do you hear that?"

Phil turned his head. "You are early, Barton."

The quinjet dropped the cloaking as it eased closer to the water level, causing the water to start spreading out away from the downdraft. Barton leaned out.

"Sorry, sir. 'Tasha thought you needed a visual aid."

Phil rolled his eyes. "I was doing fine."

Barton waved at Marta, who while continuing to stare with her mouth open, absently waved back. "Satellites comes up in three minutes, sir. Figured you'd want the minimal cross-section we give off out of Cross' airspace before that."

Aaron stepped sideways a step and blinked. "You look..."

Barton grinned. "Oh, yeah. We're totally redoing every conversation, aren't we? Cool." He turned his head. "Down a little more, 'Tasha."

"You want to come fly this thing?"

Phil stepped up onto the open tail ramp. "No, Barton is not going to fly this time."

"Awww, Coulson. I promise not to scratch it."

Phil glared at him. "That's what you said before you dropped one into a mountainside."

Barton turned back towards Aaron and Marta. "In my own defense, it was really important I crashed."

"Oh, yes. A bet, wasn't it?"

"Well, you did say no one had ever skimmed the trees like that, sir."

Phil rolled his eyes. "They still haven't." He gestured to Aaron and Marta. "Coming?" He watched as they exchanged looks before Marta came closer and Aaron disappeared into their little hut.

"What sort of job offer?" She was watching them carefully.

Barton settled down on the side bench. "Nothing you can publish, Doctor."

She smiled. "Well, I didn't expect that."

Aaron reappeared and threw a bag up into the quinjet before helping Marta aboard. "Are we related?"

Barton stuck out his hand towards Marta. "DNA says no. Ma'am, I'm Clint Barton."

She shook and tilted her head to look at him closely. "Marta. You've got a scar along your jawline Aaron doesn't have."

Barton smiled. "We aren't clones, Doc."

She blinked. "Wow. You sound alike though."

Aaron shook hands when Barton shifted towards him. "You knew me?"

"Only for a little while before you didn't actually die like we thought, yeah." He leaned back as the quinjet banked into a turn. "You look good for a dead guy."

Aaron's smile flashed across his face and disappeared again. "Thanks."


William Brandt dropped another operative and then grabbed the leader guy by the throat. "I don't know who you think I am, but I am not. Trying to kill me isn't going to get you anywhere."

The guy struggled to breathe as William shoved him higher up the wall. He turned his head in William's hold just enough to choke out, "How did you get back into the country?"

William slammed the guy into the wall again. "I haven't left the country in months. If you are after someone that looks like me I think we need to discuss inter-agency protocols again."

The guy blinked and his face changed. "You aren't Aaron Cross?"

"Who?" Brandt let the guy's feet touch the floor. "Who is that?"

"A rogue element." The guy put his hands up slowly. "I'm Eric Bryer. I'm sorry we mistook you for someone else."

William sighed. "Wouldn't be the first time." He watched Bryer stare at him for several minutes. "Decided yet if you are going to still try to have me killed?"

Bryer shook his head. "Trying to figure out what agency trained you."

William huffed. "If you don't know, you aren't cleared high enough to learn it."

Bryer bristled and rubbed at his neck. "I have one of the highest clearances in the country."

"Not high enough. Figure out where your rogue went because I'm not him." William headed out of the building and slipped into the subway tunnels at the first entrance. He jogged along the tracks until he hit an emergency escape door. Through that he followed a service tunnel for a while until he came up on an unmarked door. Fingerprints and a rental scan later, William settled into the tiny safe room and started gathering intel on why someone had pulled him from training just to try to kill him.


Natasha Romanoff smiled sweetly at the nervous lady doctor that the Clint-look-alike was attached to. They worked their way through the bowels of the Hellicarrier to medical. "Shouldn't be long."

The Clint-look-alike, Aaron, she needed to call him by the name he answered to, kept her in his line of sight and Natasha tried not to make him more tense than he already was.

"Who trained you?"

She ushered them into medical and made sure to keep Aaron in between herself and Dr. Shearing. "People you never want to meet."

Barton stomped past them with Coulson herding him along. "I hate medical."

Natasha settled on the end of the bed Barton sprawled on. "We all know that, Clint."

"Just restating for the newcomers."

She glanced at Aaron sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed with Marta. "You aren't helping."

Clint turned his head towards Aaron and sighed. "Calm down. They'll just take a blood prick for the DNA. Right, Coulson?"

Coulson looked up from the phone he was texting on. "For now. If Aaron comes down with another fever then the vultures will descend."

The doctor in the doorway lifted an eyebrow. "Vultures prefer dead things, Agent Coulson, whereas I would rather see you all live." He eyed Clint. "Well, maybe not in Hawkeye's case."

Natasha covered her mouth as Clint flipped off the doctor without lifting his head to see where to aim his hand gesture.


William stared at the mess on his screens. "You have got to be kidding me." He tapped another file up and looked over the information on one Aaron Cross. "Fuck me. Kenneth, you crazy man." He scrolled through the various reports on the increases in Kenneth's baselines as he became Aaron Cross. Then on to the kill files showing how very good an assassin Aaron Cross was.

After that, William clicked through the various files on the other eight Outcome operatives. There was more that William knew he couldn't get at because it would all be paper and IMF wouldn't have needed it for anything so they wouldn't have acquired the paper files. He pushed away from the small desk and looked through the safe room's small amount of clothing. He was going to need to move.

He left the safe room in jeans and a dark hoodie. He felt like Ethan Hunt. The golden boy had a thing for hoodies. William frowned as he took the metro up-line. He got off and caught a bus into New York. After that, William dropped back down into the subways and found another safe room. He started to approach it when he felt something. He stopped and listened carefully.

William turned his head to check down the next access tunnel and stared. "You are shitting me."

The guy leaning against the wall blinked at him. "No? Should I be?"

William shook his head. "You are a pain in the ass, Bourne." He put his finger to the reader and turned his head to see Jason staring at him like he'd been hit with a bat. "Yes, I know who you are. No, I'm not going to kill you." He turned back to run the retinal scan and then gestured at the door. "Wanna come in?"

Jason limped forward, dripping all over the place. "Why should I trust you?"

"Since you becoming high profile just got me nearly killed, let's go with I'm not inclined to give a damn either way right now." William went first and settled on a chair at a beat up desk. "Treadstone was just one of several program names." He pulled up Outcome as Jason closed the door and looked around.

"Okay."

"Here." William leaned sideways so Jason could see a picture of Aaron Cross. "I'm not him. We just look alike."

Jason leaned in and narrowed his eyes at the screen. "A lot alike."

"Yeah." William turned and pulled a towel from the cupboard to the left. Everything was in the same place in these little rooms. "There's clothes in that one over there."

Jason turned towards the clothing. "I'm getting them all killed."

"Pretty much." William opened a secure line to the only person he was going to trust to tell him when it was safe to come out. "Not that it is really your fault."

Jason pulled on a dry sweater. "I'm the one that screwed up in the first place."

"Well, from what I've read, they could have just left you be once they figured out you weren't going to kill people willy nilly."

Jason looked at him. "What agency are you?"

"IMF." William grimaced as the computer told him to wait as it tried to sync up for encryption. "More insane missions with less assassinations."

"Okay." Jason sat on the floor in the corner and sighed. "I'm tired."

"Sleep if you want." William rubbed his ear. "I'm going to be busy following this for a while."

"Hmm." Jason was mostly asleep as William talked. "Don't touch me to wake me."

"I'll talk you awake. No problem, Jason." William half-turned to watch Jason sleep until his call connected and he got Coulson's voicemail. "Of course." William left a message saying when he'd call again.


After getting Aaron and Marta into a room at the end of the hall between Clint and Natasha, Phil finally got a chance to check his voicemail. He blinked as he listened to the messages from Brandt. The next time he'd given was in a half hour. Phil made his way to his office and fussed with the paperwork to add Aaron on in a consultant position until his phone rang.

"Coulson."

"Finally." William sounded stressed. "I have a situation."

"Are you injured?" Coulson pulled up his computer to give him imaging for whatever location William would give him.

"No, but my roommate is."

"What?" Coulson listened as William explained that he was in a safe room in New York. "You have him?" Coulson wasn't about to use that man's name on a line. Any line, no matter the supposed encryption.

"Ah. Yeah, if we're talking the same man." William sighed. "I need an extraction and I can't ask IMF right now because I was pulled from training and nearly killed because I look like someone."

"Give me two hours."


Clint kept the baseball hat pulled down tight. He watched the edge of the platform and moved forward as William boosted fucking Jason Bourne onto the platform. Clint checked that 'Tasha had them covered as he bent down to catch William's hand. "Howdy."

"I hate you."

Clint grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at Jason, who was frowning. "He doesn't hate me. He loves me."

William brushed himself off. "You dream, Barton. Keep dreaming." He took the jacket Clint passed him and he and Jason traded hats. 'Tasha turned towards them as they approached and Clint was going to give her crap for the double blink for weeks.

She wrapped her arm in Jason's and leaned into him like she was drunk. "Just so you know, you ever decide to play cat games with the CIA again, I will kill you."

Clint got in on Jason's other side and pulled William against himself, making them all stumble for a step. "She means cat and mouse. And she'd kill you for stealing her fries."

She glared at him through her eyelashes. "They had bacon on them, you asshole."

Clint laughed and slapped both Jason and William on the back as they passed the late night riders coming down the stairs. As soon as they were in the blind spot at the top of the stairs, 'Tasha pulled off her headscarf and dropped her curls around her face. Clint pulled William's hat off and tucked his own into an inner pocket with William's hat.

They turned the corner into the street cameras with Jason's head down like he was feeling poorly. William and Clint tilting their heads down like they were checking on Jason. 'Tasha leading the group with sloppy drunk-seeming steps.

As soon as they were in the SUV, Clint eased them into traffic. 'Tasha cursed as he changed lanes. Clint grinned at Jason's slightly panicked look as Clint pulled them into a parking garage.

William frowned. "We haven't even gone five blocks."

Coulson met them as Clint parked the SUV. They piled out and trooped up three flights of stairs. Coulson ushered them into a small van.

"Mr. Bourne."

Jason cracked an eye open from where he was slumped in the seat he'd taken. "Just call me Jason, alright?"

Coulson smiled as the van pulled out. "Of course...Jason." He gestured at Jason. "Your knee?"

With a shrug, Jason rolled up his pant leg. "Healing up."

Coulson poked at the fading bruising. "Movement?"

"I still have range of motion. Flexing while baring weight isn't ideal."

Clint turned in his seat and watched 'Tasha yell at a car before turning towards Jason. "Hurts like a bitch?"

William frowned and gripped his seatbelt as 'Tasha went through a space with about an inch to spare on each side. Jason braced himself on the side of the van until they were through.

Coulson leaned forward. "Agent Romanoff, getting us into a crash will not reflect well on your record."

Clint smiled as 'Tasha glared at Coulson in the rearview mirror while they were stopped for a light. "You have to admit she's getting better, sir." He grinned at Coulson's look of death aimed his way. "So, Brandt, what are you doing out of the field?"

William tensed up and looked down at his hands. "I can't do it anymore. I'm becoming an analyst."

"The pattern recognition you were taught will help with that."

William looked up sharply at Coulson. "It helps, yes." He tilted his head to the side. "Have they gotten Kenneth?"

Clint braced as 'Tasha took a corner too fast. "Nope. He's Aaron Cross now. Smart as you, I think."

William looked to Coulson. "You don't know?"

"Medical isn't pushing him for anything. He still doesn't like tests."

William smiled. "That hasn't changed then. He remember anything from before?"

Clint shrugged. "Not that I can tell. He didn't remember me."

"He won't remember me either, then. I only met him once. You talked to him more than that."

"Yeah." Clint sighed as 'Tasha pulled into an underground parking garage. "Almost there."

Coulson pulled Jason's pant leg back down. "Anything else, Jason?"

He pressed his hand to his side. "Bullet graze and some issues with my ribs." He looked back and forth between William and Clint. "You aren't Aaron Cross?"

Clint grinned. "Nah. I'm Clint Barton, greatest marksmen in the world." He gestured to William. "He's William Brandt. Aaron Cross used to be Kenneth Kitsom before. We met him when he was Kenneth."

Jason nodded. "Okay." He frowned. "Related?"

William shook his head. "No. None of us are."

"Huh." Jason tensed up as 'Tasha turned off the van.

Coulson got out and they went into an elevator. Clint lunged into his corner as he watched Coulson's back as the man sway slightly to the elevator music. Jason was against the back wall and William on the other side. 'Tasha leaned against Clint's side on their sidewall. Coulson stood in the middle seemingly unconcerned that he was surrounded.

"You could take us all, couldn't you, Coulson?" Clint grinned at William across Coulson's back.

Coulson turned his head towards Clint. "You don't really want to find out, Barton."

"Awww, you know you like me best, sir."

'Tasha rolled her eyes and lead the way out of the elevator towards the quinjet parked on the edge of the structure. "He puts up with you because you can shot anything."

Clint tweaked one of 'Tasha's curls. "You know he likes me for more than that, 'Tasha."

She smiled at him a little as Coulson ignored them all.


Jason watched the way they flew the plane-like vehicle carefully, just in case he needed to steal one later. Beside him on the bench, William was snoring.

Coulson settled across from him and cocked his head. "Do you need anything?"

Jason glanced over at him. "No." He looked Coulson over. "Thanks, though. What military branch were you?"

"Marine." Coulson nodded to William. "You can sleep, if you need."

"I'm fine." Jason wasn't about to sleep until they were wherever they were going and he'd decided he wasn't going to be killed or locked up.

"Alright." Coulson leaned back and closed his eyes. "It'll be about an hour."

Jason watched him fall asleep within a few minutes. Barton came out of the cockpit and covered both William and Coulson with blankets.

"Why are you helping me?" Jason watched Barton looked at him from the corner of his eye.

Barton eased up from his crouch by William. "You didn't ask to get targeted. We work for SHEILD, expect William, who's IMF." Clint sat down next to Coulson. "SHEILD will only kill you if you are compromised and there's no getting you back. If you want to retire or take a break for kids or whatever it can be arranged."

Jason blinked. "Is dental included?"

Clint smiled and motioned to Coulson. "You'll have to ask Phil when he wakes up."


Aaron watched the quinjet as everyone came down the back ramp. He stared at two Clints for a minute before he figured out which was Clint and which was the William Brandt they'd told him about. Marta eased around behind Aaron's side as the next man out looked around him in the assessment pattern Aaron used for combat situations.

Coulson came out behind him and Natasha came last, pulling at her curls as she undid a headband.

Aaron stared at Jason Bourne as he stared back. "I never met another of us until Number Three in an Alaskan cabin a few days before a drone bombed us."

Jason's eyes narrowed. "Number Three?"

Aaron shrugged. "He wouldn't tell me his name. He was being punished for falling in love, I think."

Marta peeked around Aaron's side again. "You don't remember me, do you?"

Jason blinked and then shook his head. "Should I?"

"Uhm. Well, I only did your workup twice. You were number one. In the paperwork, I mean."

"Oh." Jason kept staring until Coulson ushered them down the hallway.


Aaron found that William was slightly faster than Clint, but Clint was a much better marksman than William. Clint was better than Aaron on high wind targets. Give the man a bow and arrow and he could hit anything which irritated Aaron because he needed a sniper rifle for some of the things Clint could do with a bow.

Jason stared at them a lot. Aaron had frowned when Jason wouldn't spar at first, but then they worked out he did things with only muscle memory and Coulson made a program to give him back willful control.

It seemed to help the memory gaps somewhat. Jason would frown when Marta tried to talk to him like he remembered things he didn't actually know. Aaron stepped in more than once to run interference.

After a couple of months, the IMF decided all was well and called Brandt back in. William gave them all hugs and insisted he'd be fine. Aaron worried about him being on the ground until Coulson confirmed that Brandt was being shadowed by Natasha.

Jason sat down next to him one day. "How much to you remember about your life before?"

Aaron looked up from the gun he was cleaning. "Flashes. I know I wasn't as smart. I know I was an Army soldier. I can recite the Army Values. Little things like that."

Jason nodded. "I don't remember anything before. My earliest memory now is joining Treadstone."

Aaron put his hand on Jason's arm. "Who you are now is what matters."

Jason looked at him for a long time.


Aaron asked to move off the Hellicarrier after five months. He was surprised when Coulson just nodded and said it'd be arranged in a few days.

They were fine for a long time. Aaron helped Marta dye red highlights into her hair. Jason stayed with them, which had surprised Aaron when they'd been put up in this tiny little burg in rural nowhere.

They had alpacas of all things. Aaron smiled as Jason fended off the babies as he crossed the yard. Marta called them inside as the military satellites were due to make a pass. They watched the news as Tony Stark announced he was Iron Man and Coulson was frowning in the background.

Then a month later they watched as the news as Harlem was torn apart by two fighting monster-like things.

Jason looked at Marta. "I'm glad you didn't try that on us."

Marta looked up from the notes she'd been taking. "Banner was an accident."

Aaron looked over at them staring at each other. "Us being stable was an accident too, Doc."

Marta ducked her head. "Sorry."

Aaron went back to watching the coverage. "Not your fault."

Jason patted her on the back. "He's right."


Barton came to visit them at the first anniversary of their owning a farm. "Looking all domestic."

Aaron looked up from stuffing fiber into a bag. "You could help."

"Nay. I have to go to Budapest with Natasha." He smiled. "Just wanted to check in."

Aaron meant it when he said they were doing fine.


The next anniversary found them around the television watching Iron Man battle a whip-welding nasty man in the middle of a car race.

Marta sighed as the bad guy stayed down. "He might be rich, but he isn't one of you."

Jason exchanged looks with Aaron over her head.

Three weeks later they got a phone call from Natasha that Coulson would be coming though on his way to New Mexico. Aaron watched Coulson pull up and step out of his car.

Jason came from the barn with this year's babies following eagerly behind.

Coulson accepted a sandwich from Marta as Aaron looked him over.

"You alright?"

Coulson's eyebrows went up. "What makes you think I wouldn't be?"

Jason pointed at Coulson's knee. "Your suit is mussed."

Aaron held his finger and thumb a little apart. "Just a bit."

Coulson frowned slightly as he looked down himself. "I don't have any flour on me, do I?"

Marta gave them all her you-are-being-strange looks. "What are you talking about?"

Coulson took a bite of his sandwich and then told them about stopping for gas the night before.


Nearly one year after that, Aaron watched as Brandt climbed out of his rental and almost face-planted in their driveway. Jason picked him up and hauled him into the house as Aaron reparked the car out of sight of any flyovers.

Marta kept watch over William as he slept for nearly 36 hours before waking up, muttering about nukes, hunts, and jumping. He used the bathroom and then fell straight back asleep. Jason and Aaron silently agreed to turn on the news.

Marta watched as the pundits argued over what had happened. "So, what was it really?"

Jason looked at the nearly closed door to William's bedroom. "A nuke."

Aaron rubbed his hand over his head. "That was way too close."

A week later, William was mostly human again when he got a call and hugged them all goodbye. Two days after that he was back, laughing and crying at the most random intervals.

Marta looked scared until William managed to explain about losing Hunt's wife on a protection detail.

Jason pulled Aaron outside. "She must be alive."

Aaron nodded. William hadn't laughed or cried like he was doing now even when they'd first met him, which Aaron now knew to be shortly after losing Hunt's wife. "We can't tell him we figured that out, though."

Jason nodded and they wandered back in.

It took a few days for William to settle down and decide to stay with them between what he was calling his crazy-ass-missions-for-that-nutcase-Ethan. The one day Ethan came into town to check on William Aaron nearly had a heart attack before he realized the agent prowl he was seeing was William's Ethan and not someone there to kill him, Jason, or Marta.

Aaron had to admit, Ethan Hunt adapted to a new situation really fast.

William frowned at Ethan as he helped Marta seat their dinner table. "No, Ethan, we aren't related."

Ethan grinned at William. "I figured. He's not in your file." Ethan glanced at Jason, but seemed content to ignore Jason was that Jason.

William rolled his eyes and they sat down for lunch.

Only they didn't get to eat anything because they ended up staring at the news coverage as New York fielded an alien invasion. They watched as Iron Man flew a nuke into the portal. They held their breath until he was caught by the Hulk. Hawkeye ran out of arrows. They even caught a glimpse of Natasha firing a handgun.


Three days later, Clint showed up on their doorstep with tear tracks running down his face. "I'm responsible."

Aaron gathered him into a hug as Clint started to sob. Marta helped get them to the couch. William settled in on the other side of Clint and held on as the man kept the gut wrenching sobs coming.

Jason held out a warm wet washcloth and Aaron mopped at Clint's face even as he kept sobbing, nearly gasping for air.

Ethan pulled Clint's boots off and settled on the couch as Marta appeared with a syringe. Aaron nodded and they watched Clint's sobs slow as the sedative took hold.

Aaron leaned back and kept Clint against his chest. "Fuck."

William nodded. "I tried Coulson's number, but I'm getting nothing."

Aaron held out his phone. "Try Natasha."

William nodded and stepped out of the room.

Marta frowned as her phone went off. "I'll be right back."

Aaron watched Ethan watching them until Marta came back in the room. "Uhm. Coulson was hurt."

Aaron frowned as Clint squirmed at Coulson's name, he leaned in and caught a mutter of 'dead, my fault' before Clint settled back down. He looked up at Marta. "You sure he's alive?"

"That's what Director Fury said, he said it was need to know and they want me to see if we can heal him up with..." She swallowed. "I don't know, Aaron."

"You need to try, Marta. Take Jason with you. I'll stay here with Clint."

She nodded as William came back in looking grim.

"Nat says Coulson died. Barton was compromised for most of the duration until she got him with a solid blow to the head."

Marta raised her eyebrows at Aaron and he grimaced.

"Fury is lying to someone. Marta, take Jason with you." He looked to William. "Can you get ahold of any of the rest of that group that was with Clint?"

William nodded. "Stark at least will have someone that gives him messages." He wondered out muttering to himself.

Aaron looked up as Ethan approached.

"Let me help you get him onto a bed."

Aaron nodded and they hauled Clint into one of the spare bedrooms. Between them they got him stripped of several knives, his pants, belt, and outer shirt. They tucked him under the covers and Ethan settled into the armchair beside the bed.

"I'll watch him. Go help, Brandt."

Aaron would have protested being ordered around, but he had a damp shirt from Clint's crying and he needed to do something.


Clint dropped into a natural sleep somewhere around hour seven. He slept through another six hours before flailing awake. Aaron talked to him until Clint abruptly went limp and lay panting at the ceiling.

"Better?"

"No." Clint mopped a hand down his face. "Fuck."

Aaron gently gripped Clint's ankle through the blanket. "Coulson isn't dead."

Clint shot upright. "What?"

"Marta called an hour ago. He'll be bedridden for a while, but he's going to be alright."

Clint blinked. "Oh." He narrowed his eyes and stared at Aaron. "Are you shitting me?"

"No." Aaron squeezed gently. "Would I lie about that to you?"

Clint closed his eyes. "No, I don't think so." He covered his face with his arm. "I...I caused a lot of the damage to the Hellicarrier."

"Jason said it was impressive."

Clint snorted. "Yeah."

Aaron petted Clint's leg through the blanket. "You are going to be okay."

Clint watched him with one eye from under his arm. "Liar."

"Not really." He kept up the repetitive petting until Clint was asleep again.


Marta came ahead of the stretcher with Coulson on it. "Is Clint alright?"

Aaron shrugged. "He hasn't eaten and it is all we can do to get him to drink water."

Marta blocked Jason from carrying the stretcher down the hallway. "Clint's room."

Jason frowned. "You said Coulson was going down at the end of the hallway."

"Well, that was before I knew Clint is eating himself up with guilt." She pointed. "Now, mush."

Jason rolled his eyes as he maneuvered the stretcher around the corner. "I'm not a dog, Marta."

Natasha smiled at Aaron as she got the other end of the stretcher around the corner. "Aaron."

Aaron tucked her hair back behind her ear to get it out of her eyes. "Better?"

"Yes. Clint got tar on it getting us out of a situation a couple of months ago and I had to cut it off."

He nodded and followed them into the bedroom.


It took some rearranging to get the second bed up and running as a hospital bed stand-in. Marta fussed with the IV lines for quite a while before she finally sat down and watched Coulson breathe.

Aaron was supporting Clint so he could watch Coulson too. "You need to eat, Clint."

Clint clenched and unclenched his hands. "I'm not hungry."

Natasha made an angry sound from the doorway. "You know the possession made your body ignore signals, Clint. Don't make me force feed you."

Clint closed his eyes and turned his head into Aaron's chest. "No."

Aaron frowned down at Clint's head. "You don't want to worry Coulson, do you?"

Clint took a big sniff and shook his head against Aaron's chest. "No."

"Alright, just a little, okay?"

Clint turned and let Aaron help him sit up.


A week later, Aaron stared at the flashy car coming down the driveway. Jason watched from the porch near one of the hidden rifles.

The man that stepped out on the driver's side smiled at him. "Wow, Barton, you are looking better than I'd have thought."

The man on the passenger side was staring with his head cocked to one side. "Tony, that's not Barton."

Tony Stark blinked, tilted his head, his eyes narrowed, and then he was striding forward. "Where's Agent Barton? What have you done with him?"

Jason was halfway to the rifle, when Aaron spread his hands, and let Stark get into his space.

"I'm Aaron Cross. I just look like Clint. We aren't related. He's inside. Probably asleep again."

The other man with Stark came and pulled Stark back as he watched both Jason's and Aaron's positions carefully. "Tony, please don't upset them."

Stark glared at them all. "Why the hell do I care, Bruce? Fury has been lying through his swanky smile and Coulson isn't actually dead, but he's also not in a proper fucking hospital. And, now I'm looking at a Clint who's not Clint. I'm not having exactly what you call a good day."

Natasha appeared in the doorway. "Stark, move that car into the barn. Bruce, come check over Barton and Coulson so Stark will accept they will be alright."

Bruce pushed on Tony's shoulder to get him moving back to the car with a grumble about cloaking them from ariel reconnaissance. Aaron followed Bruce into the house and watched from the doorway as he checked over Coulson and then had a quiet conversation with Clint.


Aaron wasn't sure what surprised him more, that Stark sat the night by Coulson's and Clint's beds or that he knew all sorts of information about alpacas.

Aaron stood with Jason and watched as they loaded Clint and Coulson into a transport Stark had arranged. William and Ethan had made themselves scarce that morning with a promise to come for Sunday dinner. Aaron waved to Natasha as she climbed in beside Clint's stretcher.

"Think Clint will be alright?"

Jason cocked his head as Stark and Banner argued about Stark driving them back. "He'll be fine. He's got a family in them."

Aaron nodded. "He has one here too."

They went inside to join Marta for dinner.