Okay, so I really hope you guys like this. It took me a bit (leaving in the middle of a chapter always brings on the writer's block :P), but here it is.

I do not own The Avengers.

This is also an AU, so yes, I do know they're not really brothers.

WARNING: There are a couple mentions of past self harm, so please don't read if they'll affect you.

We Will Go On

Tony knew, as soon as his father said, "Anthony, meet your new brother.", that he would hate him. Maybe it was the way that Clint stood, confidence in his stance despite only being eleven years old. Then again, it could have also been how his sharp blue-gray eyes bore into him, ready to delve in and read his deepest and darkest secrets. Find the blood oozing between Tony's fingers and down his arms from scars too old and sour to remove. But really, Tony thought that, even though those definitely held a hand in his hate, the number one reason had to be the way his father's hand rested on the younger's shoulder, a touch that the sixteen year old had been yearning for his entire life.

Although he knew it wasn't really true, Tony could have sworn that Clint's mouth was curved into a smirk, mocking him for taking his father's love from the elder. Instead of stepping forward to welcome the blond to the family, Tony turned from his mother's smile and raced up the stairs, cursing himself for believing his break from college would be any different than what went on before.

He did his best to ignore the yell from downstairs, just barely hearing his mother saying that she would follow him. In response he began to run to his room before catching sight of a door that had been closed previously. Inside it was painted a dark purple, a black comforter covering the bed with purple pillows. The other furniture was also black, and Tony could only guess that the room was meant for Clint, because he knew that it had been painted a light cream before with matching brown furniture.

He hesitated before pulling his own bedroom door shut and entering the other, barely closing it behind him. Inside it seemed expressionless, matching his adoptive brother's face. Somehow the teenager found his way to the closet, crawling into the empty space and quietly shutting the door. The next thing he knew he was staring at the lines on his arm, the three of them neat and orderly like soldiers, marching into battle. From the closet he could faintly hear Maria calling for him, almost hearing the apology in her voice, as if she could guess what he had and was going through. He resisted the urge best he could, convincing himself that he was done, that he would never do it again. If he started again he wouldn't be able to stop, and he knew that.

From outside he barely heard light footsteps on the hardwood floor, and he barely managed to yank his shirt sleeve back down and stand up from where he had collapsed before blue eyes were peering up at him, silently asking why he was in the other's closet. Tony just glared at him and shoved his way by the younger, not caring at the hurt expression that appeared as he made his way past his mother and into his own room, slamming the door as he entered.

They would never understand.

It was four days later that Tony's world fell apart even more with three words aimed at his heart from his father like a bullet.

"Your mother's dead."

Nothing else, Tony was certain, would ever pierce him more, even the things his father had never done with him. The brunette made sure to stay away from Clint, sure that the preteen's sorry face was the last thing he needed to see.

Two days of the 'sorry's and 'my condolence's was all that Tony could take before he was leaving, going back to college three days earlier than planned. Clint had given him a horror stricken face, no doubt terrified of staying alone with his father, even though Tony was sure the younger had to have realized that he himself was worse than anything his father could summon.

Just as Tony had suspected, it only took a couple of weeks before the news reached him. His father was dead, killed while driving drunk. The one thing that stunned him was that he also heard Clint was in the hospital. Apparently he had been in the car with the eldest Stark when the accident had happened and he had two broken ribs, a broken leg, and a long gash running the length of his face from the corner of his eye to the top of his jaw on the right side of his face. Now seventeen, having his birthday the same day his father died, he only checked to make sure Clint would have a care taker and proper medical attention - because despite severely disliking him he would never leave a child without help - before he took over Stark Industries.

He made sure to never touch foot in his old home ever again.

It was thirteen years before Tony saw Clint again, not even realizing it was him at first. All he saw was a semi-familiar man with blond hair. He squinted at the younger man flanking Steve and holding a bow before his eyes opened in what was no doubt a comical expression.

"No. No way." He said instantly, taking a step back. "I'm not working with him."

Clint glared back coldly, the two brothers ignoring Steve and Natasha's surprised expressions. "Trust me, Stark, I don't like it either. But you better deal with it, cause you know what? I am."

Instead of responding, Tony flipped his face mask down and, directing his comment at Steve, said, "I'll meet you there.", before he left, flying into the sky and pretending he didn't care.

Tony made sure not to show why, exactly, he and Clint disliked each other. Because he knew Clint either disliked or hated him, and, though Tony knew he used to hate the younger man, he figured the time away from him made him hate him a little less. And he knew, in the back of his mind, that he definitely deserved Clint's hatred. Leaving him for thirteen years, when he was his legal brother, turned the situation from a 'do or don't' to a 'must'.

Which was why, when Clint needed help, he was surprised that "Tony!" was what Clint uttered. And, even more surprising, was that when he didn't get there in time and Clint jumped, he couldn't stop himself from yelling his brother's name and diving after him, praying he'd get there in time. The relief that flooded him when Clint used an arrow to crash through a window was also unexpected, though Tony couldn't help but think it was a good feeling.

To be happy that the blond was safe.

He didn't know what Clint felt, when he fell back to Earth from the closing portal.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Tony also figured, when he saw Clint's foot on Natasha's chair, that he didn't know exactly what feelings Clint brought out of him. They seemed to be a mix of dislike, protectiveness, and maybe a bit of pride. So maybe he knew he was Clint's brother. But maybe, he knew, Clint didn't want him to be.

It wasn't until they were done with shwarama that the two ended up alone in a room together. They hadn't even really noticed it, but all of the Avengers had been in the living room and, one by one, they had all left until only Tony and Clint were left. And Tony knew this was his one chance. If he wanted to fix everything, it would have to be done then and there.

In a second, Tony was across the room from his chair to where Natasha had previously sat, right next to Clint. He gripped the other's wrist in his hand and hoped he wouldn't leave.

"What do you want, Tony?" Clint asked. "I'm fairly certain you made it clear that you didn't want me when you left me in the hospital, at age eleven, injured, and by myself knowing my second set of parents were dead, both fathers dying while driving drunk."

Tony sat still, trying to think over what he was going to say for the first time in his life. "I know. But I was a stupid seventeen year old back then."

"And not wanting to work with me?" Clint scoffed. "You're thirty now, Tony. I think you made your intentions pretty clear."

"What, and I can't be a stupid thirty year old?" Tony countered back immediately. At Clint's glare, he sighed. "Right, sorry. Wrong thing to say. But I can say that I am sorry. I was... not right. Back then. Until the battle, really. When you... ya know."

Clint blinked, obviously not expecting that. "Yeah, but... you know what, we can finish this later."

He stood, about to leave, when Tony's grip on his wrist tightened. "I'm not done yet, Lego- Clint. Clint, I'm not done yet. I'm attempting to apologize, and you won't let me." He took a deep breath. "See, the thing was, I was jealous. Maybe I still am, I dunno. But I was. It seemed like you'd taken all of my father's love..."

"Tony, you know I hadn't. In all honesty, I had been really nervous about meeting you and he was attempting to stop my panic attack."

"Panic attack?" Tony asked. "What did you-"

"I have another brother, Tony. That's why. He left me, and I was afraid - for the right reasons, apparently - that you would leave as well." He blinked, sitting back down. "All I had wanted was a brother who would stay and support me."

"And I ruined it." Tony said. He sighed, thinking about what he would say. "But you know, Clint." He made sure the blond was looking him in the eyes before continuing. "I'd be willing to learn. To be a brother, I mean. The right kind."

I hope you guys enjoy! Also, I realized when I finished this that I could continue and make this a multi-chapter fic. However, I want more than one person saying they want me to continue. So if you want me to keep writing this, please say so.

And, even if you think I should stop here, please review! Thanks for reading!