Clint stared at the grey, metallic wall opposite his bed. It held an array of weaponry; cross-bows, hand guns, sniper rifles and a collection of compound and recurve bows. His lips twitched slightly as he sat up on the freshly made sheets and surveyed the room, the wall seemed to be the only place that had any order to it, the rest of the room was filled with bits of dismantled guns, half used cartridges, bow strings, cogs and lots and lots of arrows. It looked like a platoon of snipers had been living there, not just him. He stretched and groaned as he pulled the tender muscles of his back, it was time for coffee and an aspirin – or six. Hopping nimbly from his bed to the door, he pulled a pair of socks on and blinked a couple of times as the daylight hit him from the corridor. It was just after ten and he groaned inwardly, the others would probably be in the common area of the newly christened 'Avenger's Tower'.

It wasn't that he didn't like them exactly but, well, they hadn't exactly met on the best of terms. Almost fifteen years of living either alone or with Natasha hadn't really enhanced his people skills and he could think of nothing worse than having to spend an extended period of time with any one person, let alone five others. So when the order came through from Fury that he and Natasha would be moving in to the newly renovated tower he had kicked up a fuss. In fact, he mused as he silently padded towards the kitchenette; it was probably the most he had ever said to the Director. He grabbed the coffee from the top cupboard and hastily flung it into a mug. He mindlessly stirred the granules while waiting for the water to boil.

An arm suddenly appeared around his shoulder and, as any trained assassin would do, Clint whirled round and quickly floored his attacker, holding the teaspoon he had been using up to their throat.

"Whoa, Bird-boy. Easy," Starks face glared up at Clint as he relaxed and removed his knee from the other man's chest, "Jeez Clint, we've been talking to you for ages, why don't you try answering in future?" Tony rubbed his neck and Clint saw the expectant eyes of Cap and Banner, waiting for an explanation.

Fuck. The one time he doesn't have the bug-aids and this is what happens. The in-ear hearing aids had been annoying him though. They had been a size too small and either fell out or rattled about so much that the noises were distorted beyond any hope of recognition. He'd tried to keep them in but when they'd fallen out in the shower it had been the last straw. They were never going to work after that amount of waterlogging. All he'd wanted was a pick me up before he went down to the firing range to hurl off a few dozen arrows.

"I, uh," he cleared his throat, unable to hear his own voice he had to go off of the vibrations he felt through his face and jaw, "Sorry." He turned quickly to leave but saw Natasha standing in his way.

You may as well tell them, she signed. He glared at her. This was not something he was going to discuss, they didn't have the clearance level for one and for two, he was already on the fringes of the group as it was, what with not only being completely human but also trying to kill them all. He did not need to be completely despised, or mollycoddled.

A growl escaped from his throat as Natasha barred the door further.

"For God sake Clint, just tell them." She said out loud. Oh, thanks Nat, he thought as he turned round to face the three expectant faces.

"Tell us what?" Steve asked, his innocent boyish looks hardened into a frown. Banner seemed anxious, while Tony's eyes gleamed with intrigue. Clint's shoulders sunk and he put the teaspoon he was still holding down on the island counter.

"It's nothing, just, I, uhm, don't hear too well." He spluttered out eventually, "It doesn't matter, it's just…" he trailed off as he realised the others were all talking at once. Groaning inwardly once more he held up a hand for them to stop. Lip reading was easy enough, he had been doing it since he was a kid, but it still confused him when more than one person was talking at once.

"Guys, guys, GUYS!" He felt himself yelling and the men promptly shut up and turned to face his again.

"How well is not too well?" Banner asked, he was the only one still directly facing him.

"Uh, like, 80 – 95%?" his felt his face becoming redder and redder, and forced himself to breath. He had a feeling his words were slurring together but he couldn't be sure.

"Still there?" as a doctor Banner was probably the easiest person to talk to.

"Gone."

"Why didn't we know this before? This could be detrimental to our battlefield tactics. What if you can't hear when we're fighting, how are we supposed to contact you? This creates a liability on the field that we don't need." Rogers ranted quickly, the muscles in his jaw tightening, making it difficult for Clint to catch everything that had been said. He'd caught the gist of it though. He wasn't needed. Liability. The word he despised more than anything else in the world, more than disabled. He had fought tooth and nail to get to where he was. Even as a kid he had had to fight the other boys just to be heard, just to get fed, at S.H.I.E.L.D. he'd had agents refuse to work with his because they feared he wouldn't hold up under pressure. They were scared he wouldn't respond. Or that he would shoot the wrong target. He'd never understood how they could think his ears somehow had control over where his bow pointed. And now his abilities were being questioned again.

"Great, well, glad we had this chat. I'll be out of here by tonight." He spat angrily, pushing his way passed Natasha and not bothering to try and comprehend what she was saying.

She heard his door slam shut and winced. Steve really didn't translate well into the 21st century. His face caved in as he realised what words had escaped his mouth but Natasha felt like twisting the knife a bit more.

"Good going Cap. Really, just the response he was looking for." She glared, "You should all try thinking the next time you open your damn mouths" with that she turned to leave, swinging her hips ferociously and heels clacking against the hardwood floor. She thought about heading to see Clint but decided against it, it would only cause them to yell at each other. It had been her fault, she shouldn't have pushed him, but it was better that they knew today instead of finding out on the field.

She found herself in the gym and pulled her shirt off so that she was standing in a sports bra and leggings. She needed a few hours to punch the crap out of one of the sandbags that was hanging up in there. It made her feel mildly better.