Tony

Leaving California took longer than he had expected; honestly he didn't think he'd be there that long. One day, that's all he was willing to give them to begin with and that was being very generous. Of course it took him three days to pry himself away from the overly weird scientists in Malibu. Now he was back at the tower and feeling as miserable as ever. He didn't even have the energy to argue with Steve. He had taken to hiding out in lab working on giving Jarvis some cooler features, perfecting his armor, and making new arrows. Yeah, that last bit was probably occupying more time than it should. He'd created emp arrows, net arrows, gas arrows, and even sonic arrows. There was also the new bow he'd made; it had a tracker and everything. At the moment he was working on a better suit for Clint, the one he had was too vulnerable. "Don't want to talk to anyone, J." he said as Jarvis told him Natasha was asking for him.

Natasha huffed as Jarvis relayed Tony's message. She couldn't contact Clint while he was in a mission, and Tony had been acting very weird since getting back from California. She turned to look at Bruce; they were all worried, something must have happened to cause Tony to close in on himself. Alright, Bruce was worried for Tony, she was worried for Clint. If something had happened to set Stark in on this mood, then how was Clint doing? Coulson didn't think it warranted allowing her to talk to Clint, so she would have to get it out of Tony. "Okay. Time for plan B, Bruce."

Tony jumped as the vent nearest to him flipped open. "For crying out loud!" He hadn't really been monitoring the vents, the only one who ever went into them was Clint, and well he was away. He turned to look at his suit, making sure for the hundredth time that it was ready to go at a moment's notice. He carried the other half of Clint's com unit with him in case the archer sent a message. "What part of 'don't want to talk to anyone' did you not understand, widow?"

"There's something going on and I'm going to harass you until you tell me." Natasha glared at Tony and moved closer to him. This was about her best friend, and she was not going to let it just be. "Something happened on the trip to California and I need to find out what."

He was so not in the mood to be harassed right now. "Look Romanoff, I am not in the mood."

Natasha scoffed and pinned him against his lab table. "This has something to do with Clint, and I'm not letting him get hurt by you."

"Why does it have to be me hurting him?" He glared right back at her, why didn't anyone think he could keep someone happy? He was never good enough to be with anyone, never good enough to love someone. "In any case, how do you know it has anything to do with him?"

"Your reaction just now, that's what confirmed it to me." She took a step back; maybe this wasn't what she had thought it was. The way that they acted around each other, everyone was sure they really hated each other. Maybe they didn't actually hate each other, but felt the opposite of hate. "What happened, Stark?"

Tony groaned and let his shoulders slump. "We took a road trip."

This was possibly the most confusing thing Tony could have said. "Yes. You took a road trip, what does that have to do with your current behavior?"

He wondered for a minute whether he should tell her anything, she was Clint's best friend and if anything she would either have insider information or she would tell Clint. Nah, it didn't seem like she would tell Clint whatever he told her. "He's amazing, Natasha. He reminds me a little of Pepper, the way he doesn't take my shit, he's willing to tell me off if he thinks I'm being too big headed."

"I don't take your shit."

"Yeah, but you scare me. Then there's the whole, black widows eat their mates thing. No thanks." He earned a punch for that remark, but he was starting to feel a bit more like himself. "I don't know. There's just something about him. The way he laughs, or drowns his pancakes in syrup, or how excited he gets when he talks about shooting his bow." He had it bad.

Natasha arched an eyebrow, Tony had it really bad. She could kind of see it, Clint was great, but she saw him as a brother. Now she was wondering whether Clint felt the same way Tony felt, if he didn't then poor Stark, if he did then it was no problem. "Tell him how you feel."

Tony shook his head and went back to working on Clint's suit. "Nope." He would mess it up; he always managed to mess things up. There was also no way that he was going to tell Clint anything, the consequences to him fucking this up meant losing Clint's friendship. Let's face it, he sucks at having friends and messing up the few he's managed to gain doesn't seem like a good idea. "I rather not mess things up, you know."

Clint

"And now I'm here, stuck in this hell hole, doing stuff I much rather not be doing." He muttered as he tried to change his position, this intel mission had him in a desert in the middle of nowhere Egypt. "I could be chilling by a pool right now instead of roasting under this hot sun."

Coulson rolled his eyes for what had to be the billionth time. "Radio silence means you shut your mouth and do your surveillance quietly." Clint had been whining the whole time, actually the whining had begun the minute the jet he'd taken from Malibu had landed on the helicarrier. He knew his agent would be extra irritating after the road trip, but this was ridiculous.

Clint frowned as he took a swig of water from his canteen. "I know what radio silence means."

"Oh, I know you know what it means, it's obvious you just don't know how to exercise it." Yep, he was tired of hearing Clint complain and whine. He was never sending him on anything else with Tony. Although he'd seen the bracelet Clint was wearing and it looked an awful lot like the ones Stark had designed for his suit. When he saw it he arched an eyebrow, but Clint merely shrugged and offered no information.

"Hard to exercise anything in this heat, have I mentioned how hot it is? I will sic Tasha on you for making me suffer this way. Why couldn't she be the one to do this again?" This didn't seem like it required his special skill, it actually required almost no skills. Why they couldn't just hand it off to some random newbie was beyond him.

He was going to kill him, or accidentally forget him in the desert. "Director Fury said you; I didn't really question it, Clint. Yes, I know it's hot; I am stuck in this place with you, remember?"

"No, you're not stuck here with me. You're in the safe house not dying because you have the AC turned on. Do not try to belittle my pain, Coulson." He grinned as he looked down his scope at the Hydra compound. The mission had better soon turn from one of surveillance to taking down the place or he was going to give Fury hell. "Man, I have sand in places I didn't think sand could reach. It's the lame kind of sand too."

"Lame? How is the sand lame?" Alright, so perhaps this radio silence thing wasn't working because he kept answering to Clint's whining. He had a soft spot for the archer and could actually handle it all better than most. In all honesty, while the whining was irritating him, they didn't exactly have any other forms of entertainment in the safe house.

Clint smirked "Yeah, you know… it's too sandy."

"It is sand, Clint."

"I know, Coulson, but couldn't it be a bit cooler? Kind of like the sand that the sandman uses for the dreams." This is what he got for cockblocking.

Coulson wanted to smack his head against the desk, but there was no need for unnecessary pain. "I'd be worried that you're starting to hallucinate, but this is normal for you. Care to elaborate on whatever you're talking about?"

He frowned; annoying Phil was proving harder than he'd thought. "Like in Rise of the Guardians, you know the sand that the sandman uses to make your dreams. Did you not watch it?"

"Just because I babysit you children, doesn't mean I watch kids' movies."

"You hurt me, Coulson. This just means that when we —" Clint shifted to get a better view of what he'd only gotten a glimpse of.

The sudden silence had Coulson sitting up and moving over to the laptop. "Clint, talk to me, what's going on?"

He eyed Tony's suit bracelet before responding to Coulson. "I see major movement. Two trucks just showed up, they're loading weapons onto them. We have to do something, Coulson."

"Alright, hold on." This just had to happen on a surveillance mission. He switched channels and asked to speak to Fury. They would have to act now or risk allowing something dangerous to happen in a public area. "Barton, we've been given the order. Neutralize the enemy, retrieve the weapons."

Clint nodded as he lined up his sights on the men guarding the compound entrance. He would have to act fast; he only had at most a minute after taking down the guards before getting swarmed by their back-up. "Coulson, I'm going to need back up."

He was already getting ready as Clint's voice came through the coms. "I'm on my way." Luckily for them, the safe house was only a few minutes from the compound, it wasn't much of a house as it was a shack, but it was equipped with guns, ammo, and bombs. He grabbed his guns and Clint's bow, he'd insisted Clint wouldn't need it and therefore the agent had left it there. He was now regretting his decision; Clint was at his best with the bow.

"Right, I'm moving in." He took down the two guards, dropped the sniper rifle and took off running towards the gate. With his handguns he took out the men that tried to rush him, he rolled and took refuge behind a wall. Coulson had left exactly three minutes ago, that meant it would be another five minutes before he reached the compound. He took a deep breath and looked over the side of the wall, a bullet flew his way. Trajectories, he was great at those, he closed his eyes as he calculated where the shot came from. He stuck his head out again drawing another bullet before firing his shot. A smirk appeared on his face as he heard the shooter's body drop to the ground. There were still more though, and Coulson would be there in three minutes.

Coulson hit the gas pedal on the jeep, Clint was a magnet for trouble and for some reason always managed to get hurt in the most simple of missions. "Almost there how many?"

"I had counted sixteen while doing surveillance. I killed the two guards at the gate, three that tried to get me, and one right now. That means we have ten left, including the two drivers." His eyes widened as he heard one of the truck engines start, shit. He looked over the side of the wall again to see one of the drivers trying to drive off with the few weapons they had managed to load up before Clint began his attack. The weapons couldn't make it out. He cursed and ran towards the truck, avoiding the shots that were fired his way. The truck was gaining speed and soon he wouldn't be able to catch up to it, if he stopped to shoot out the tires he would risk getting shot. However, if he didn't do that, he risked allowing the truck to leave with the weapons. He stopped in his tracks and shot at the tires of the truck, a bullet tore through his leg as he watched the truck swerve and hit the gate. At least he had stopped the truck. "Fuck."

He reached the compound just as Clint took a bullet to the leg. He drove the jeep and set it in front of Clint to give him some cover. "Just one mission one mission where you don't get hurt." He handed him his bow and smiled at the look of relief in Clint's face.

Clint snorted and took his bow, instantly feeling a whole lot better about the situation. "Where'd be the fun in that?" He put on his quiver and pulled out an arrow, the driver of the truck was out which left nine men for them to take down. "Nine is the magic number."

Coulson nodded as he readied his guns, he looked over the jeep and lowered his head as shots were fired their way. Whoever was shooting towards them sucked as none of the bullets hit the Jeep, hopefully the rest of them sucked as much as this one did. As fast as he could he stepped over the side of the truck and fired a few shots the man's way. He grinned as one of his bullets hit the man in the chest sending him to the floor. "Eight."

They took the remaining eight men without much of a struggle, once Clint had his bow it was easier for him to move around and kill every single sucker he saw. In the end they were able to take possession of the base. Coulson shouted out orders to the clean-up crew before walking over to where Clint was being looked at by a medic. "What's the verdict?"

"I'll live. I will, however, be out of service for a couple of weeks. You know how those gunshot wounds go, they take a while healing and shit." Clint grinned as the medic rolled his eyes. He had a reputation of going back into the field earlier than recommended. The medic had said two months; Clint took that as three weeks tops. Lucky for him the bullet hadn't hit any major arteries or bones. It was, if somewhat sad, one of the smallest injuries he'd had in a while.

Coulson shook his head as he moved alongside the medics carrying Clint's stretcher. They were now on their way back state side and he'd be finally rid of Clint. Sometimes it was like babysitting a five year old, the way the archer acted. He looked up as Clint started threatening one of the medics. "Agent Barton, will you let the medics do their job."

Clint turned to glare at Coulson. "I was letting him do his job until he decided to come at me with a sedative. You know how much I hate those things, Coulson." There was no way he was going to be knocked out, nope, he could fucking handle it! "I'm not in any horrible pain at the moment, I can do without it. He needed the flight back to think about how he was going to ask Tony out. There was no way he was allowing someone else to once again cockblock his thought process.

One look at the determined look Clint was giving him had him rolling his eyes and sighing. "Fine." He waved the medic away from Clint as he walked over to the stretcher from where he'd been checking the flight plan with the pilot. "You annoy me, Barton, and I will taze you."

"Like I've never heard that before." He said with a smirk.

"Yeah, the difference is I'll actually do it this time. Or I'll take away your bow for a week."

"Alright, alright, I get the point. You're disturbing my thought process; go do handler stuff, Super Coulson."

Coulson didn't even grace the statement with a response; it would just make Clint talk even more. He had to get Natasha on the phone; she would know why Clint was being extra childish. There was definitely something going on, he'd noticed when Clint made the medic put the IV line in his other arm so he wouldn't have to remove the Stark bracelet. Yup, he needed to call Natasha.

When Clint wakes up he's in the infirmary wing in the helicarrier. He hates that, going to sleep in one place and waking up in a whole other one. His head throbs and he can feel the after effects of a painkiller slowly seeping out of his body, he hates that too. After coming up with a plan to woo Stark, he'd let his eyes drift close, Coulson must have allowed the medic to finally sedate him. He groaned and rubbed his face with his hand, a light chuckle had him tensing up. It took him a minute to realize it was Natasha; the reason he hates being sedated, his awareness slows down to a snail's pace. "How long?" He grunts.

"Just a few hours actually." She says with amusement in her tone. Coulson had called her from the plane to talk about Clint's change in behavior; she had pretended nothing was wrong with Stark to save Coulson the headache. When he found out they had fallen for each other he was going to flip out, no longer one child, but two. She found it all way too amusing.

"I hate sedatives." Someone was going to pay for this.

"Don't worry, Coulson tore the medic a new one, he didn't know he sedated you while checking your IV." She had moved over to his bed by now and made him move over to give her room. They did this a lot whenever one of them got hurt, it was a sort of reassurance, they had to make sure the other was going to be fine.

Clint smiled as he imagined Coulson yelling at the medic, even for his very calm demeanor, if pissed off Coulson could be the scariest man around. He moved over and hissed as his legged throbbed with pain. Natasha was alert and staring at him in seconds. "It's going to be sore for a while, you know."

"Idiot." She rolled her eyes before settling beside him, she wouldn't offer to get the nurse so he'd get painkillers, he would just refuse it. "Only you can go on an Intel mission and end up in a gun fight."

"I wasn't trying to get into a gun fight. In fact I wanted to get home as fast and safe as possible."

"Any reason you wanted to come back fast?" Natasha smirked as she buried her face on his side. He was her brother, or what she figured a brother would be like if she had any, she would lose it if he was to die. Missions like this always reminded her that she could very well lose him and she would not be there to help him or at least be with him as he died. It was something they had promised each other, they would try to be there for each other no matter what.

Clint grinned; Nat already knew otherwise she would have asked differently. "What did he say?"

"I am not playing messenger to either of you." She would have punched him had he not been hurt and currently in the infirmary.

His eyes widened, this meant Tony had said something, otherwise she wouldn't have said that. "Tasha, what do you know?"

She shook her head "Whatever is going on, you guys have to figure it out yourselves."

Tony had been informed by Jarvis that Clint was back from his mission and currently in the helicarrier's infirmary. He looked up the mission information as he heard the news; it was just supposed to be an intel mission. Why had he not sent a message for help? He'd been outnumbered by the enemy and he hadn't used the communicator he'd given him; assassins and their need to prove their badassnes. He sighed as he grabbed the edible arrangement he'd asked Pepper to get for him. It was a sort of joke, Clint had complained about people thinking it was okay to apologize or cheer someone up with cut up fruit, so of course he was going to give him some cut up fruit to cheer him up.

"I think it's going to be alright." Clint whispered to Natasha as he placed his chin over her head. He was saying it more for his benefit than hers; he needed all the strength he could get.

He reached into the edible arrangement and stole a few blueberries. What? Walking while carrying things made him hungry; lucky for him he was carrying something edible and delicious. "Cliiiiiint, sweetheart." He stopped in his tracks as he saw Tasha on the bed snuggling with Clint. "I just, I was just bringing this for you." He said as both Natasha and Clint turned to look at him. He ran out of the room as soon as he put the edible arrangement on the table by the door.

"What was that about?" Clint frowned as he saw Tony run out of the room.

AN: This is the shortest chapter in the fic. The next one is longer and includes Bruce and Steve. No Thor in this one, i'm very thorry about that. As I said, this fic is finished, I just didn't want to post it all at once. I'm currently working on a soul mates fic (ironhawk) and an angsty science gone wrong fic.