A/N: Thank you so very much to everyone who is following and has reviewed this story. While I am personally disappointed in how it's turning out, I hope you are enjoying it. I feel like the story is drowning in so many little details, but these are the details that I could see in my mind's eye that really brought to the story to life for me. Seriously, it was so much better in my head! So, if you have it in your heart to wade through this chapter, there is probably only one, possibly two, more chapters to go. Again, thanks for taking the time to read (and review, if you so choose). All hail Marvel...

Chapter 3

San Francisco

As she sifted through the files and samples, Natasha could not believe the treasure chest of evidence she was faced with. The good doctor's final location was more than just a safe house. It was the "let's kill the Avengers" secret clubhouse. And a poorly guarded one at that, especially given the contents within. She made quick work of the lackeys stationed there and was inside in no time. While the information was neatly organized and secure, it certainly wasn't hidden away. They were clearly not expecting a complication of any sort. Was it arrogance or were they lulled into a false sense of security?

She realized then that she had been completely under anyone's and everyone's radar. She began retracing her steps from the beginning of the mission. Her instructions had come through Fury's office, though not directly from the man himself. Not typical, but not unheard of. She never thought to question it given everything that was going on. And, really, why did she accept so easily that her mark was just stupid and had his transfer date wrong. No one involved in the business of assassinations got dates wrong. Not only had she underestimated her mark, she had completely underestimated the importance of this mission. This wasn't penance for a bad attitude, this was tailor-made for her. Dammit! How could she not have seen this? And who was behind it? Fury wouldn't have gone to such secretive lengths. Hill was on the ground dealing with clean up. The only other person who would have the clearance to assign her to a mission of any kind was dead. What the hell was going on?

The answer had to be staring her in the face, but maybe she was too close to see it. Right now she needed to get this information back to the Avengers. After searching everything in Clint's file and finding nothing about countering the effects of the drug, she had to hope Pepper was successful at getting him out of the facility and away from those who would do him, and all the Avengers, harm. She had faith in Pepper. If she hadn't, Natasha never would've handed Clint's life over to her. But now that she had everything in her possession and out of AIM's, she was free to get back and add more fire power. Hopefully, Pepper's part of the plan was going just as smoothly as hers had gone.

NYC

After arriving at the partially repaired Tower, Pepper went immediately to the room she shared with Tony. As she changed from her jeans into workout clothes suitable for a Yoga class, she marveled at her ability to sleep the entire cross-country flight. She felt nervous but rested. She and Happy had gone over the plan several times on the drive over from the airport to the Tower. A few tweaks here and there, plus a few "if/then" scenarios, and they both felt this was the best way to get Clint out of the facility. It was go time.

After leaving instructions with JARVIS, she headed down to the private garage level to meet up with Happy. There she found him standing next to the open driver's side door of Tony's Audi A8 four-door sedan. Not long ago she had chastised him for the over-the-top security enhancements he had built into the vehicle. She would be sure to apologize for those comments as soon as she saw him. "Your get-a-way car, Ms. Potts," he said.

"Thank you, Happy. I'll follow you as best as I can to the drop-off point," Pepper said with a shaky voice. She glanced to make sure the gym bag was in the front seat. Everything was as ready as it was ever going to be. "This is it. Let's go." With that she got into the car, fastened her seatbelt, and began to adjust everything specifically to her liking. The seat, the mirrors, the cameras, the dashboard readouts - everything needed to be exactly right so she didn't have to think about it later. When she was satisfied with the set up, she took a deep breath, put both hands on the steering wheel and thought: here we go.

She followed Happy's rented sedan to a side alley about two blocks from the facility where Clint was undergoing his "treatment." From what she understood, Clint should be mobile and able to move under his own power. Still, if he moved slowly and needed any kind of physical assistance from Pepper, she figured she could manage to help him for two blocks. It was far enough away to stash the car, but close enough to not tire either of them out if they had to run. Plus, it was outside of a building where Stark leased four floors. That kind of real-estate agreement came with two parking spots - no meter feeding or towing worries. The car would be there when they needed it.

She parked the Audi, grabbed the bag and joined Happy in the rental car. In the passenger seat she unzipped the gym bag to confirm the contents one last time. Inside there was a pair of gray sweat pants just like the pair he was wearing. There was also a black hoodie identical to the one he currently had on. A pair of white sneakers and a Dodgers ball cap rounded out the wardrobe. The right side pocket held Pepper's handgun, the left side pocket held a canister of mace. She tucked the Audi keys in her waistband. They drove the next two blocks in silence.

Two Blocks Away...

One good thing about the facility that Clint called home recently was that it was not considered high-security. There were check-in procedures to visit patients, but nothing involving a full-fledged security force. There were only a few long-term patients accommodated here. Clint liked that because, in the beginning, the doctors told him he could leave any time he wanted. He chose to stay onsite because he knew he would find a million reasons to not show up regularly for sessions. He wanted so badly to be rid of the guilt he carried after Loki overtook his mind, but didn't know what to expect from the treatments. Would it get worse before it got better? Would it even get better? So, after much soul searching and a difficult heart-to-heart talk with Nat, he decided to stay.

As he lay in the bed trying to ignore the constant chill in the windowless room, he thought back to that discussion he had with Nat. She didn't want him to stay here. What was her reason again? Oh, yeah, it wasn't secure. Well, nothing but her quarters and the handful of safe houses she maintained around the world were safe enough for her standards. Besides, he reasoned, the immediate threat was gone. Loki was back on Asgaard with Thor. Clint was assured that once the connection was broken, Loki would not have a hold on him. Not that Clint believed it, of course. He, like Natasha, subscribed to the line of thinking that "just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're NOT after you." There would always be threats in his line of work. Right now, he just wanted to get control of his life back. He would stay here and trust the SHIELD doctors. He even planned on taking Stark up on his offer to bring in some of the world's renowned experts to talk to him.

Nat backed down and helped check him in. She visited him every chance she got. That was truly the highlight of his short day. Even as he surprisingly seemed to sink into darkness over the past week or so, seeing her brought him happiness. He almost felt like he could be normal again when she was around. That's why he hated to see the short orderly show up. First of all, he wore a Mariners ball cap that was pulled so far down it covered half his face. It was freaky. Secondly, Mariners? But mostly he hated that the orderly showed up with his sleeping meds. That was always her cue to leave.

He couldn't be sure if it was her absence or some effect the sleeping pills had on him, but the nights were, well, they were scary. Not really like dreams or nightmares, not really like Loki's presence, just a feeling of nothingness. Like there was nothing worth waking up for. A couple of times it felt like he wouldn't be able to claw his way back from the darkness, like there was nothing on the other side. But then he would think of Natasha, about her being disappointed in him if he let the darkness win. He could never let his Tasha down. He had her back, no matter what the situation. He had to see her again. He had to beat this. So, back to the real world he crawled to face another day.

As he began to really consider what Natasha's hold on him was, he saw a figure enter the room. Slowly the Mariners cap came into focus. Was it night time already? What the hell…

Before Clint could say anything the orderly spoke. Clint realized this was the first time he'd heard his voice. "Agent Barton, you are about to have visitors. I strongly suggest you listen to them."

"What do you mean visitors? Like the ghosts of Christmases past or something? 'Cause that's the vibe I get from you, dude."

"You'll see." And with that he was out of the room.

The hair on the back of Clint's neck stood up. Something was up. He might be going - or already - insane, but his years of training told him that shit was about to go down and he better get ready.