Crashing into the mat for a second time, Clint shook his head in a vain attempt to regain his wandering focus. He usually did better against Steve when sparring but his recent nightmare had shaken him up more than he cared to admit, and his attention span was suffering. Not having a nightmare about Loki for several months had given the archer the false hope that maybe he was finally starting to get past the events that culminated in Manhattan. There had certainly been more recent horrors to plague his dreams lately.

Offering a hand, Steve helped Barton pick himself off of the mat. "Again?"

Nodding his head, Clint wandered over to the side of the mat to grab his water bottle. He exchanged the bottle for his towel and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"You're sure?" asked Rogers as Clint made his way back over. The archer usually put up more of a challenge, but today he seemed to be off his game. The Captain was slightly concerned that something might be troubling his teammate, but didn't want to force the issue. However, he also didn't want to end up injuring his friend because Barton wasn't paying attention.

"It's fine Cap, just a little tired. Besides I bet you can't do that a second time," offered Barton as he took his stance opposite Steve. Rogers offered a small sigh and silently corrected the archer's tally in his head; if he knocked the man down again it would be more along the lines of the sixth time.

The pair continued on until Tony sauntered in and shouted, "Playtime's over kiddies!"

Clint glanced over at Stark for a brief second and caught Rogers' fist to the side of his head. The next thing he knew he was getting personally acquainted with the mat again. He looked up to see both men standing over him; Steve with a look of concern and apology, and Stark with a slight smile and gleam in his eye. Rogers helped the archer get to his feet, and Clint brushed his hand against the warm liquid that was running down his chin.

"Jesus Cap, I think you broke Barton," chuckled Tony.

Grabbing his towel Clint wiped at the blood on his face and attempted to stop his bleeding nose. He didn't think Rogers could look any more remorseful; but, sure enough, as he locked eyes with his sparring partner the man had found another level.

"It's fine Captain. You didn't do it; you connected with my chin not my nose. I must have smacked it on the mat." Clint sat down on the bench while the other two mopped up the mat, well Steve cleaned up; Tony just stood there chuckling to himself. His nose didn't hurt like he face planted on the floor, but he was bleeding badly enough that he had to have done it.

"What do you want Stark?" asked Rogers as he threw the bloody towels in the laundry.

"Fury said he wanted to have one of his boring and time consuming check in meetings in five minutes. So if you're not too busy beating his archer to a pulp, maybe you two could join us in briefing room three." Without waiting for a reply, Tony turned and left the gym to fetch the rest of the mismatched team of superheroes.

Steve looked over at Clint who nodded. Carefully he pulled the blood soaked towel away to find the geyser of blood had ceased. "I'll be right behind you Cap; I'm just going to clean up."

"Alright," replied Rogers, who sheepishly headed up to the conference room. Things like that happened all the time in practice and it was by no means life threatening, but Steve had noticed Clint was distracted and off his game. He didn't like the idea of injuring a teammate no matter how minor, especially if he wasn't paying attention to how he was directing his super strength.

Clint made the trek to the bathroom to clean himself up. Fumbling in the dark he managed to flip the light switch and instantly regretted it as the light stabbed a sharp pain through his head. He hissed and screwed his eyes shut then very cautiously blinked the room into focus. Quickly splashing water on his face to get rid of the blood he fled back into the gym to grab the bottle of pills out of his bag to help dull the sudden migraine. It was going to be a long meeting if his headache didn't let off; he didn't think he could handle both Fury's barking and Starks usual ramblings right now, and taking a couple extra minutes to get there wasn't going to help matters.

The archer quietly opened the door to the briefing room and commenced his walk of shame to his seat. Fury leveled a hard gaze at him until he was seated, "nice of you to join us Agent Barton," he then continued with the update. That tone was synonymous with shit list. Clint didn't have to think very hard about who was going to be on the top of a very short list of operatives for the next crappy posting in Siberia, and all for being a couple of minutes late.

The rest of the team didn't comment on Clint's extreme lateness except for Stark who casually leaned over and whispered, "think you're going to have to stay after class and clean erasers for you tardiness?"

Not wishing to address the childish antics, Fury simply raised his voice and continued. "Thor contacted us with his intentions to stay on Asgard for awhile longer. There doesn't seem to be anything pressing in which the team will be required for, so you can all enjoy another week off pending any world ending disasters; except for you, Doctor Banner."

"Me? What could you possibly need me for without the others?"

"We have recently came across a lab we believe our rogue councilman was using to conduct research," replied Fury.

"Research on what?" Bruce found the other man was never very good at offering a lot of information about anything.

"We're not sure, but it was suggested that you might be able to shed some light on what the reconnaissance team found."

"I could certainly take a look."

"Good. There's a jet leaving in one hour; I expect you to be on board."

Stark piped up, "what, Bruce is the only one that gets to go play mad scientist?" It was at that moment that the lights in the briefing room turned off along with all the other electronic devices resting on the table.

"At the moment Dr. Banner is the only one required. Should he need your expertise I'm sure someone will give you a call. In the mean time I suggest you fix your systems, Stark" snapped the Director.

"Right. A little help here JARVIS," commanded Tony. The lights flickered back on and all the devices rebooted.

The Director left the meeting first, followed by Bruce who had to go and pack for his trip. Romanoff and Stark sauntered out next, leaving Barton sitting at the table and a concerned Rogers hovering by the door.

"Are you sure you're alright Barton?" asked Steve.

Curious, Clint raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine Cap."

"You were thirty minutes late. I thought you were just going to get cleaned up."

"What are you talking about? You were gone ten minutes before I came up here..."

Steve interrupted, "Clint it's two-thirty; Fury called the meeting at two o'clock."

"Huh." The archer paused to consider what Steve was saying. He could have sworn he didn't take that long. What was worse was it wasn't the first time he felt like he was missing moments of his day. He tried for reassuring, "I guess I just lost track of time. Sorry Cap, I won't let it happen again."

Clint hopped up and strode to the door after patting Steve on the shoulder trying to convey some sort of normalcy he felt he was lacking at this new insight. Once he made it back to his room he began his research into his missing time, "JARVIS can you bring up the security footage from the gym between one-fifty to two-thirty and send it to my lap top?"

"Right away, sir."

Clint sat cross-legged on his bed scouring the video footage. He winced as he watched Steve knock him to the mat; he'd have to save that part to analyze later and hopefully salvage some of his pride next time. The camera angle offered a small glimpse to the bathroom. He had left the door open after turning on the light and the camera managed to catch the reflection in the mirror. He watched himself recoil at the change in lightening then nothing. Barton could distinctly remember splashing water on his face to clean the blood off but according to the video he simply stood there. He checked the time stamp and watched the minutes tick by as he stood there like a statue. His gaze was distant but blank then after twenty minutes of nothing Hawkeye finally bent over and turned on the tap. He left the gym with eight minutes to get his pills and get to the meeting.

"JARVIS can you pull up files Barton A1 and Barton A2?"

"They are on your laptop now."

Clint sat there and watched the two other videos depicting similar incidents. A growing sense of dread spread through him; he had spent time trying to research possible explanations for the occurrences, none of which sounded conducive to continuing his position as an agent and an Avenger. He didn't want to bring it to anyone's attention; the last thing he wanted was to give SHIELD medical and psych a reason to take a pointed interest in him. They were still begging Fury to let them turn Clint in to a lab rat to research long term affects of being hijacked by a mystical god. Barton was willing to do a lot of things for the benefit of the world, but he had had his fill of medical for the rest of his life already. Maybe it was time to seek outside council.

"JARVIS has Dr. Banner left yet?"

"Dr. Banner is presently in his lab."

"Can you save this new video as Barton A3?"

"It is done sir."

The archer closed his laptop and made his way down to the lab. The place was filled with the bustling of Dr. Banner, as he tried to get together anything he thought might be useful for his trip and putting his current projects on hold. The man barely looked up as Clint skulked his way in through the door.

"Hey Bruce, I was um... would you... I don't know... could you?" he muttered as he rubbed his hand against the back of his neck.

"What do you need Clint?" It came out a bit harsher than Bruce had intended but being told to pack immediately and fly who knows where to try and piece together who knows what, tended to play on his frustration. He stopped short when he caught the brief flash of hurt in the archer's eyes. Before the young man could flee the scene, Banner corrected his shortness. "Really Clint, what's on your mind?"

Barton hovered for a few moments weighing the merit of his visit. "I know you have to leave but I was hoping you might have time to..." he did some jerky motion with his hand that Bruce had taken to mean their weekly Keres sample check. Since Hawkeye's dealings with the council the pair had engaged in weekly late night research sessions in the lab. Banner had hoped it would offer his troubled teammate some reassurance when the tests constantly and undoubtedly came back negative; that Clint could start to move away from the horrific events of the last year. What had started out as an attempt at reassurance was quickly becoming a depressing coping mechanism for the archer; one in which the doctor would have to address with his friend but not in the few minutes he had left.

Banner moved over to the supply drawer and grabbed a syringe. "You know the drill." He moved to stand next to Clint as the young man rolled up his shirt sleeve. After taking the sample he placed in one of the many machines that were lined up on one of the tables and turned the equipment on. "When it's done analyzing the sample, it will print out over there. Think you can handle it from that point?" asked Bruce as he shut his briefcase and glanced at the clock.

Clint just smiled and nodded to cover up his growing uncertainty. Banner clearly didn't need to be burdened with any more of Clint's problems.

"We'll talk when I get back alright?"

"Yeah," replied Barton as he sauntered over to the printer to await his results. He wasn't sure which would be more reassuring at this point: a positive or negative.

Only if you Run by Julian Plenti