Okay, so I was sitting around procrastinating on homework and decided to write. No idea what I wanted to write about, so I used this fabulous thing called a random word generator, gathered a bunch of words, and picked the ones that I understood/got a good idea from.
This will be mostly Tony, Clint, and Steve, but I will try to include other characters especially if you leave me a request. Although I won't do much romance, if any at all… I can't write that even remotely well.
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Content/Characters
(For the general audience's reference and use. I may just make a table of contents chapter if I keep going with this for a while.)
Leavy- Tony & Clint
Contamination- Tony & Steve
Spell (my personal favorite)- Lots of Clint & some Steve, Natasha, and Tony
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Leavy
Abounding in foliage
(a variant of the word leafy, I believe)
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Tony groaned as he stumbled over another root sticking out of the ground, nearly falling over and jolting his bad shoulder in the process. He growled under his breath and rubbed the still sore muscles.
"Why did I ever think it was a good idea to take a mission in Russia? Why did I ever agree to take a mission with you? Something always goes wrong whenever we go on a mission together."
"Hey," Clint called, pushing a branch out of his way as he continued limping through the forest, "This is entirely your fault. I've never done anything bad to AIM. At least… not that they know of."
"Well, I'm sure that you criticizing their fighting skills as they took us in wasn't helping our case either."
"They had terrible form! I couldn't help it."
"They had just shot you," Tony pointed out.
"Well, I'm sorry. I was a little busy trying to cover your immobile ass."
"Okay. That was definitely not my fault," Tony defended, slapping a couple gnats out of his face with his good arm. "I don't know how, but they got into my suit enough to shut it down completely. And then they proceeded to steal it from me... Although that shouldn't be much of a problem. It'll probably start back up and fly to Stark tower or self-destruct if they actually manage to get inside of it. That was some pretty advanced technology, though that they used on me. When we get back to New York, we need to take out AIM before they get the brains to do something big."
"I'll second that notion. I can have a chat with Fury when we get back. This organization can't be taken down with just six superh-" Clint cut off abruptly as a hand landed on his shoulder and heard Tony make a shushing noise,
Clint spun around to face Tony, who was staring intently into another section of the forest, and that's when he heard it: the quiet whine of an engine, but quickly getting louder.
Clint glanced around him. "Damn. I thought we had lost them by now. Can you climb?"
Tony grimaced. "You fixed my dislocated shoulder not even an hour ago and you got shot in the leg. Not to mention everything else," Tony replied, making a vague gesture to point out all of the gashes and bruises they had gathered in captivity over the past three days. "I doubt it."
Clint quietly cursed and grabbed Tony's good arm, yanking him behind the nearest tree. He stood behind another a few feet away, quickly pulling his bow out from behind him and notching an arrow.
The both stood in silence, desperately hoping that they would be passed by. The engine just seemed to be getting closer or closer until a single man on a motorcycle went flying by Tony's right.
Tony blamed the arc reactor. That thing was like a goddamn beacon, and with the sun starting to go down, the light must have caught the AIM agent's eye, because his head whipped around and could have sworn that they made eye contact as he shot past.
The motorcyclist went a bit further into the cover of the trees before Tony could hear the motorcycle slow down and eventually come to a stop.
Tony looked over at Clint, who gave him a warning glance that clearly said stay here. Tony nodded in response and watched as Clint quickly started walking towards the AIM agent, barely making a noise as he walked, even with a bullet in one leg.
Tony lost sight of Clint as he disappeared in the shadows of the trees. He stood and tried to listen as closely as possible, but there wasn't much to hear. Tony could hear that the engine of the motorcycle had been turned off, but other than that, he couldn't tell anything.
Tony's attention was grabbed when he heard the static of a radio, soon followed by a garbled voice. The voice stopped, probably waiting for a reply of some sort from the guard, and Tony was never so glad to hear the quiet thrum of Clint's bowstring as it snapped back into place, letting an arrow fly loose.
"Tony," Clint called out. Tony quickly walked over and found the source of the voice. Clint was currently pulling an arrow out of the AIM agent's chest.
Clint wiped the arrow off on the grass and placed it back in his quiver, looking up at Tony. "You know how to drive a motorcycle?" He asked, nodding his head over to the dead agent's bike.
Tony scoffed. "'Do I know how to drive a motorcycle?' he asks. Of course I know how to drive a motorcycle!" he exclaimed, climbing on and starting the engine.
Clint placed the body of the guard under a tree and hopped on the motorcycle. "They know that something went wrong, but I doubt any AIM guards know where we are."
"How long do you think it will take to get to that SHIELD base now?" Tony asked, twisting to face Clint.
"No more than an hour."
"Well," Tony commented, "let's get moving then."
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Contamination
The act or process of contaminating
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Being a normal human being sucked.
Granted, he wasn't exactly normal, being a billionaire superhero and all, but he was still jealous of the others: gods, super soldiers, and green rage monsters. Because while he was locked in his lab, currently sick and feverish, Steve, Bruce, and Thor were enjoying their perfectly sickness-free day.
He hated being human.
Scratch that. He just hated being sick.
At least he wasn't alone in this. Clint had only been noticeably sick for a couple hours before Tony decided to lock himself away in his lab to prevent possible infection, which turned out to be a completely futile effort, and last time he heard when Bruce came down to check up on him 3 or… maybe 8 hours ago, Natasha wasn't feeling too hot either.
When he's not nauseous and dizzy and everything else that came from this god forsaken virus, he's planning on taking Pepper out on a nice "I'm sorry I got sick and missed our date night" dinner, and kicking Clint's ass for infecting him. Not necessarily in that order.
Tony laid on his couch staring at the ceiling for a couple more minutes, eyes drifting on the verge of sleep. It was better than wandering around his lab, bumping into tables and robots before his brain could process them like he had been for a couple hours before he just gave up and laid down. That's what bothered Tony the most about being sick: he couldn't think. His mind just couldn't process anything, and he's had more than enough incidents with a soldering iron while sick to learn not to bother trying to work while in that state unless he wants to go to the hospital again.
"Stark."
And Tony is suddenly aware of the fact that somebody is rudely jabbing their finger into his shoulder… and that it's disgustingly warm in his lab. He should fix that. Oh look, his eyes are closed too. He guessed he had probably drifted off without realizing it.
"Tony…"
He lazily lifted an arm and blindly swatted to his left, a ghost of a grin forming on his face when he made contact.
"Tony, come on… I brought you food?"
Tony's stomach lurched a bit at the mere thought. Not a chance he was eating anything right now. He slowly blinked his eyes open against the dimmed light of the workshop before they focused on a figure hovering over him: Captain America himself.
"Go away, Rodgers," he muttered drowsily. "And take that with you."
"Bruce told me the last time he brought anything down was nearly 11 hours ago. You have to eat something."
Really… 11 hours? "Doesn't matter. Door's over there," Tony said, waving a hand vaguely to the right.
"I dealt with a sick Clint about 10 minutes ago. I don't think it'll be that hard to deal with you," Steve said, setting a plate of something nauseatingly edible on the chair next to Tony's couch.
"Oh yeah? Try me," Tony grumbled, tucking his head under his arm.
And suddenly, there are two cold hands on his shoulders and he's being shoved up into a sitting position, regardless of the noises of protests and vile language that's coming out of Tony's mouth.
Steve towered over him and fixed him with a stern look. "Eat."
"I try to avoid your cooking whenever possible for my own safety. Now is one of those times," Tony replied, fixing Steve with an equally challenging look.
Steve sighed. "It's not even my cooking, it's Bruce's"
Bruce's? Now that sounded much more appealing. Since his nose was too congested to smell it, he had to lean over and get a better look at what Steve had brought down.
Soup.
Freaking chicken soup.
Bruce had made him chicken soup and tea.
As much as he protested the concept, he couldn't deny that it looked good. Tony glanced back up at Steve. "Fine… I'll see what I can do." Steve hesitated, so Tony continued, "Scout's honor."
Steve gave Tony a not-so-subtle roll of his eyes and started to move towards the door. "I'll be back down in a half hour or so to pick up the dishes. Don't play with welding tools or set anything on fire while I'm gone."
Tony leaned his head backwards and called after Steve. "I make no promises."
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Spell
A word or formula believed to have magic power
Note: I got really carried away on this one… over 2500 words.
Appreciate it.
Also, I am disregarding the events of Iron Man 3 for plot purposes, so take that.
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Clint found it dreadfully, dreadfully ironic. This entire situation. He had it coming, he guessed, after making the team put up with his brainwashed self during the Loki fiasco.
But battling three avengers at the same time? He wasn't so sure about this.
Well at least Thor was off planet and Banner was off on a vacation.
All he knew was that he, Widow, Iron Man, and Cap were sent to a run down manufacturing plant to take in a man with magical abilities who was hiding out in the area. All SHIELD told him was that he had displayed strong acts of telekinesis in a recent robbery he had committed that had ended up with thousands of dollars missing and ten guards dead. They were looking around the expanse of the factory when Widow heard him shuffling around on the second floor.
Soon enough, they had this man cornered. He was young, probably in his late twenties, and had a muscular build. But he was cornered and didn't seem like too much of a threat while surrounded.
The man stiffened up. "You don't want to do this. I have powers that even you can't imagine."
Iron Man scoffed. "Doubt it."
Cap gave Tony a glance. "We aren't looking for a fight. SHIELD wants to help you make sure you can control your power. They just want to make sure nobody gets hurt."
"And what happens if I teleport away?" The man questioned, but there was something in the nervous expression on his face and the small quiver in his voice that made Clint think the man didn't have that option.
"SHIELD is one of the most powerful organizations in the world. We would find you," Widow warned. "It would be best to let SHIELD help you."
"I don't need your help," the man said, taking a step backwards.
"It isn't optional," Clint said with a strong hint of a threat in his tone.
The man was backed against the wall now, both metaphorically and literally. He looked at each of the Avengers surrounding him and gulped, closing his eyes.
Suddenly, the entire factory jumped into action, conveyor belts spurring into motion, manufacturing robots swinging around sporadically, and lights flickering on and off. The man took his chance with the distraction and jumped forward, only to be caught with a tight hand on the shoulder by Captain America.
And then something happened that Clint still had a hard time understanding. The man's eyes changed from his dark blue to a fiery orange. The man was staring down Cap, who was to his left, when suddenly Cap stiffened and made a small choking noise. Soon followed by Iron Man not more than a second later.
Widow and Hawkeye both turned to see what happened. Cap and Iron Man were both standing still, a complete lack of emotion on their faces, but their eyes blazed orange. Widow turned back to the man, who was now sliding down to the floor, and looked them in the eye. "Turn them back. You can still go to SHIELD peacefully. We don't want to fight you, but if you attack us-" Widow stiffened, her eyes now the same shade of orange.
Well. Damn it.
The man pressed his back to the wall and looked like he was about to faint from exhaustion. Something clicked inside Clint's brain when the man started to turn his head to face him, and Clint followed his gut, looking up above the man's head instead.
Clint heard the man speak up in a wearily dead voice. "You can't take me in. I won't go to SHIELD. They won't help me, they'll just lock me up."
Keeping his eyes away from the gaze he could feel drilling into him and raised his bow to where he knew the man was sitting. "You wanna bet?" He spat out.
Hawkeye could hear the man utter a single word, but didn't have time to decipher it before something slammed into his chest and Clint was flying backwards, clinging onto his bow as best he could.
He crashed into the stacks of cardboard boxes shoved in the corner which, luckily, turned out to be empty. Clint reoriented himself and scrambled to his feet, ignoring his aching chest. He looked up and immediately regretted the choice to come on this mission. Because Captain America and Widow were charging towards him, frighteningly neutral looks on their faces.
Clint wasn't sure whether to be irritated or relieved by the fact that Iron Man was standing guard over the man who caused all of this, who looked too tired to move now, much less run away. He would pick relieved for now, as he quickly sprinted over and jumped the railing onto the stairs.
He ran down a couple steps and jumped down the other side, landing on top of a small conveyor belt. It shuddered under his weight, but kept moving. Cling notched an arrow and fired at Natasha's calf the second it appeared running down the staircase, but she jerked out of the way at the last second.
Clint cursed and yanked his earpiece out, dropping it on the conveyor belt. Let Iron Man deal with that tracking information.
He leapt to the ground and ran behind some machinery once Widow started firing her gun, the sharp ping of bullets hitting metal ringing throughout the building.
Clint scanned around him as he ran and headed towards a different staircase, ignoring the steady ache starting to settle in his chest. He needed the upper ground.
He raced up the staircase before Widow could turn the corner, leapt over the railing, and scaled a shelving unit he saw sitting next to the wall. He threw himself on top of the structure, quickly rolling up onto his feet and notching an arrow.
Just in time, Widow's back came into sight at the top of the staircase and she bolted forward a couple steps before completely stopping and turning around to face Clint, gun drawn. She barely registered Clint perched on top of the shelves before an arrow pierced the barrel of her gun and knocked it out her hand.
Clint grimaced as his partner ducked out of the way of a second arrow aimed at her shoulder. She made course straight for the shelving unit Clint was standing on top of.
He couldn't let Widow near him. She would kill Clint if he hesitated and got himself injured, or maybe worse. Her ruthless snarl as she was sprinting toward him didn't exactly give off the impression that she merely wanted to incapacitate him.
Clint notched an explosive arrow and shot it about five feet in front of her. It exploded on impact, and Clint winced as he saw Natasha get thrown back in the air and land painfully on her back.
She slid to a stop and remained completely motionless. Clint knew that kind of explosion wasn't enough to kill her, but he began to climb down to check, just to make sure. He had only climbed down the first shelf when a certain red, white, and blue shield slammed into his side.
His grip was knocked loose and he went falling the last ten feet down and onto his side, a sharp flare of pain suddenly making itself aware in his right shoulder. Clint closed his eyes, groaned, and rolled on his back, relieved to feel his bow under him digging into his back. He heard a slight scrape of metal and opened his eyes to see Cap picking up his shield, those burning orange eyes staring straight into Clint's.
Clint scrambled to his feet before the captain could come any closer, pulling his bow from behind his back and aiming an arrow at Steve's chest, which was now covered by the shield. Clint's shoulder throbbed in protest and at this point, he was 70 percent sure something was fractured there, but he didn't exactly have time for that at the moment.
"You don't have to do this, Steve," Clint warned, eying him warily.
All Clint got in reply was a near sadistic smirk as Steve started to advance on him. Clint let his arrow loose, which went right at the middle of Cap's shield. He brought his shield to the side in an attempt to deflect it to the side, but the arrow did its job. The arrow clung onto the surface of the captain's shield. Unfortunately, Vibranium was too strong of a metal to melt with one of Tony's specially designed arrows, but as the arrow emitted enough heat to melt regular metals, the shield started to steam and have a hint of a bright orange color to it. Steve hissed and recoiled, yanking the shield off his arm and dropping it at his side.
Clint saw an opportunity, so he took it, pulling out an explosive arrow and firing it right at the ground between Cap's feet and his shield. As expected, Cap leapt out of the way before it blew, but the blast knocked the shield into the air and all the way to the other side of the room.
Clint saw Cap's eyes flicker over to the shield before coming back and honing in on Clint, which was just slightly unsettling. Although now that the shield was more or less out of the way, he had a fighting chance. Clint had spent months sparring and training with Steve, and at this point, Clint wasn't sure if brainwashed-Cap saw Clint as Hawkeye, the man who he trained with, or just another target. Hopefully the latter, because that would mean Cap didn't remember everything he knows about Hawkeye's fighting technique.
Steve charged forward, jumping out of the way of the two arrows that were shot at him before Clint gave up and slung his bow against his back. Steve used his momentum to aim a swinging punch at Hawkeye's face, but Clint smirked and quickly ducked out of the way. He guessed mind controlled Cap did forget their sparring together. He would have known better than that.
Clint turned around to face Steve charging toward him again. Clint ducked under another punch and delivered a quick jab to the ribs. Other than a small wince, Steve looked almost completely unaffected. Damn that super soldier serum.
They continued on, Clint dancing out of the way of Cap's blows and delivering quick powerful ones when he found the chance. Unfortunately, even brainwashed-Cap was a quick learner.
The first hit Cap landed sent Clint flying, not having expected the sudden boot nailing him in the chest. Clint went flying backwards, landing painfully on his back.
Coughing and gasping, Clint forced himself not to curl up on his now without a doubt broken ribs. He rolled onto his side and pulled an arrow out of his quiver, desperately hoping that this would work.
Clint let the pain from his broken ribs flood onto his face and gave a few convincingly feeble coughs before going limp. He heard Cap's footsteps get closer and closer until Clint was sure that the Captain was currently standing right next to him.
In the quick pause that followed before Cap ended it, Hawkeye struck. He dove forward and stabbed the arrow into Cap's thigh, pulling it out within seconds and quickly making an attempt to roll to the side. The pain from his ribs caused him to nearly black out, but he steadied himself and looked up at Cap.
The Captain looked angry, then confused. He staggered a couple steps and fell to his knees, giving Clint an almost murderous look before collapsing on the ground. Half of a sedative strong enough to knock out the Hulk will do that to you.
Clint gave himself a moment to check out his injuries. Something most likely fractured in his shoulder and… three broken ribs? He wouldn't be surprised if he had a star-spangled-boot shaped bruise on his chest once he got out of this.
He'd had worse.
Bracing himself against the floor, Clint struggled to his knees and then slowly stood up. He pulled out one more arrow. The one he kept secret for the past couple months. Fury had given him three arrows. He only had one on him right now; the remaining two were with his extra quivers, locked up in the tower.
But this arrow was capable of emitting an EMP strong enough to shut down Iron Man. Fury told him the engineers estimated it would only work for about a minute, which wasn't nearly long enough to kill Tony, or even to cause any damage to his heart. Just enough to deal with a problem if it comes up. Which it certainly did today.
Clint notched the arrow and walked quietly into the next room over, taking a short glance inside to make sure it was clear. He paused as he heard the sound of the Iron Man suit moving. Clint followed the sound to a doorway leading to the room where this mess had all begun in. Iron Man was currently helping the sorcerer, or whatever he was, up to his feet.
Hawkeye didn't hesitate. He shot off the EMP arrow and it landed on the floor right between Tony's legs. In less than a second, the EMP was emitted and the Iron Man suit froze up and crashed to the ground, dumping the man back on the floor.
Clint charged, swiftly pulling a knife out from the sheath on his thigh. He picked the man up off the floor and slammed him into the wall closest to them.
"Change them back," Clint ordered, bringing up his knife to make light but firm contact with the man's neck. "Now."
The man chuckled. "You kill me and the Avengers die. They're linked to me now. Your best bet is to leave now while you can… they won't stay down forever."
Okay then. Plan B.
Clint punched the man across the face. Hard. Probably a little harder than he should have, but it got the job done. The man was lying unconscious on the ground, blood dripping from his most likely broken nose.
Clint rushed over to where Iron Man was lying on the ground and used one of his arrows to pry off the faceplate. He was immediately met with the confused face of Tony Stark. The brown eyed confused face of Tony Stark.
Thank god.
Clint slumped down to his knees, now able to focus on the sharp ache coming from his ribs.
"Hawkeye!" Clint started at Tony's now panicked voice. "We need to get back to the tower now. My arc reactor-"
"Should come back on in less than thirty seconds. Don't worry, just an EMP arrow. Lasts just about a minute."
"Oh," Tony muttered, visibly calming down. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, waiting for the arc to start up again. He relaxed when he saw the familiar blue light come up from his chest and slowly sat up.
"Wait… EMP arrow? What the hell happened? I can't remember anything past when we were about to take that guy into SHIELD," he said, nodding his head over towards the man currently unconscious on the floor.
"Mind control happened. I took on you, Cap, and Widow and beat you all. And then saved you all… nothing eventful or anything," Clint remarked, prodding around his own chest. He really hoped he wouldn't be out for too long. Broken ribs are usually a pain to heal, though.
Tony gave him a curious look. "Cap and Widow too… they in a different room?" He asked, glancing around.
"Yeah… speaking of, we should probably find them before they wake up," Clint said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
Clint heard the creaking of metal and looked up to see Iron Man towering over him. "Need me to carry you, Princess?" Tony asked with a smirk, still offering out a hand.
Clint took the hand and pulled himself up with a stifled groan, flipping Tony off with the other hand. He was a multitasker like that.
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So, thank you for reading! If you want to, suggest a short word/prompt/idea in a review and I will see what I can do. No guarantees, though. Also, don't expect many updates from me. I have a life outside the internet, you know (I'm surprised too). If I don't update within a month, feel free to message me and yell at me to update.
Happy exam week!