Sorry this chapter took so long to get out. I just started college so things are really crazy here. Hope you all like the next chapter. I'm thinking there's going to be two more to this story at the most. Reviews are loved.

And now, it truly begins.

Clint brushed his fingers over the coordinates in his phone, not looking as Peter punched them into a GPS. "Probably going to be in the sewers."

"Of course. Because all the bad guys are in the sewers. I swear, they have a guidebook they all follow," Peter said. "You ready?"

Clint picked up the new bow Tony had made him, slinging the quiver over one shoulder as he got to his feet. "As ready as I'll ever be. You...you sure we're going to do this?"

Peter smiled at him, and even though he couldn't see it through the mask, he knew from the way the fabric wrinkled. "Positive. And I'm always right, you'll see."

-.-

Some feathers are more important to flight than others. Some you won't notice. The others though? I'll make sure you notice.

Peter landed on the roof of the warehouse and Clint sprung from his back, catching himself a moment after he lost his balance. He glanced over to see Peter rubbing at his ear beneath his mask and wished he could read the other's expression when he turned to glance at him.

"Everything all right?" he asked.

"Perfectly fine," Peter said. "So we're at the coordinates. Did the text say anything else?"

"Said to head inside, that we'd be able to find our way into the tunnel," Clint said, heading for a hatch near the left side of the roof. It was unlocked and he was able to tug it open easily and look through it. There was a ladder that led to the bottom, but other than that, he didn't see anything but a bare, cement floor.

He headed down it, Peter close behind him. A further inspection of the room revealed nothing but a door on the far side of the building. The wall facing the street had a garage door for trucks to move through, but it was dead-bolted by two heavy beams of steel. There were no windows. The only way out would be to climb the ladder back up and-

There was a clang and when he turned, Peter was staring up at the now closed hatch. "Well I guess we're locked in."

"Really? Didn't notice," Clint said, sarcasm heavy in his voice as he tensed. He went back to examining their prison, leaving his bow on his back as he drew his handgun instead. In such a confined space, it wouldn't be practical to have the bow out just yet. He glanced to the other wall he hadn't checked and saw a single door.

Tense, he aimed the gun there. As if on cue, the door swung open and Rourke sauntered through, Natasha slung over his shoulder. His medium length hair was tugged back in a short ponytail, revealing a sharp jaw covered in the scruff of a man who hadn't shaved in a few days, and he smiled as he set Natasha down in front of him, her face covered by a bag. His broad hands were clenched around her waist, holding her upright as her knees buckled

"That's not Natasha," Clint said slowly.

Sure, the arm was broken, but the build was all wrong. He hadn't been able to see that until Rourke had set her down.

"How very astute of you, Agent Barton," Rourke said with a wide grin, hands sliding up the woman's body, past her bound arms, over her shoulders to wrap around her neck. "But as I said, I wanted no one but you and your spider. It seems this innocent woman will have to die for your crimes."

"What?" Clint asked, whirling to look at Peter.

The other was pulling off his mask, dropping it on the ground as his jaw tensed.

"Peter," Clint said. "What did you do?"

"Yes Peter, what did you do?" Rourke asked, his tone nearly hysterical in it's mocking. "Tell the bird what you did, tell him about how you went behind his back. Tell him about the little chatters in your ear."

"Peter."

Peter scratched at his ear, revealing the comm device in t he palm of his hand as he raised his gaze to meet Clint's. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to come in here alone. I've...been in contact with Fury. I didn't think he'd be able to hear it."

"And now, she must die for both of your foolish mistakes," Rourke said, and before either of them could so much as twitch, he gave a brutal twist of his wrist and let the woman fall to the ground without so much a whimper.

"Where's Natasha?" Clint demanded, pushing aside his racing thoughts as he tried to avoid looking at the woman on the ground.

"I don't know," Rourke said with a shrug.

"What the hell do you mean you don't know?" Clint shouted.

"Clint, he's got nothing to hold over us, let's just deal with this," Peter said, then raced past the other assassin, shooting a line of webbing forward.

Rourke caught the line and yanked Peter forward, and from then on, it became a blur. Clint tossed the gun aside and drew his bow, engaging the first electrical arrow and drawing it back, eyes tracking Rourke and Peter carefully. He wasn't sure if Peter was using the acid-infused webbing or not, as Rourke was ripping it off too fast for him to give it any time to sink in and have an effect.

Peter leapt away, swing up towards the ceiling and giving Clint the opening he needed. He fired the arrow, grinning when three claw like appendages sprang out and sunk deep into Rourke's back. He couldn't tell if it had made it all the way through the man's thick jacket, but he decided the best way to check was to turn the dial up on the remote strapped to his belt.

The man went down mid-step, the air crackling with static and energy. It gave Peter the opening he needed to drop down onto the man and cover him with webbing.

But the next moment, the ground beneath them shook and the garage door behind them exploded, the force knocking Clint to his knees. Above them, parts of the roof caved in and SHIELD units began rappelling down thick lengths of rope. Clint scrambled back to his feet, aiming for where Rourke had been despite the fact that he could barely see anything through the dust SHIELD had created in their grand entrance.

As he edged closer, he realized that there was no sound of a fight, no sound of a struggle, and when he stumbled forward and nearly into a pit, he realized why. Rourke and Peter were nowhere to be found. All that was left was the body of the woman and a crumbling hole that led nowhere.

-.-

You're starting to weaken. When the rest of the flock finds out? They'll leave you behind. Only this time, no one will pick you up.

"Why the fuck would you come into a mission like that? Did it not occur to you that maybe you should leave the assassinating to the assassins?" Clint was pacing in front of Fury's desk, hands rhythmically clenching into fists as he resisted the urge to punch whatever was closest.

"Perhaps I would have if you hadn't moved behind my back and actually informed me that Agent Romanoff had been taken hostage," Fury said, his own tone dangerous from where he sat.

"I didn't want to tell you because I knew you would want to do something stupid like this! And now some innocent woman is dead, and Peter and Natasha are gone," Clint said. He took a deep breath and sat down, realizing he was only going to piss Fury off and be taken off the mission if he kept it up.

"You should have been staying in touch with your handler, not me," Fury said, his voice quieter. "Natasha was gone, and Peter has never met your handler. This all would have gone much more smoothly if you had actually done your job right."

"So it's my fault?" It wasn't a question; Clint knew the answer.

"You know it is," Fury said. "So now the only question is how do we fix it. I can't call back the other Avengers. I'm taking you off this mission Agent, and assigning it to someone who trusts their handler, and their employer."

Clint got to his feet. "You can't do that sir."

"I think I can do whatever I damn well want, Agent Barton, but by all means, please continue to dig yourself into a deeper hole," Fury said, glaring at him.

Clint froze. He didn't have a good answer. He was thoroughly compromised. What kind of agent didn't report back to their handler when something went wrong? Like when their partner was taken hostage.

"Perhaps we were wrong about letting you back out onto the field," Fury said.

"Sir?"

"I'm thinking it's best to take you off duty for awhile, Agent," Fury continued, not even bothering to look at him as he went about pulling out paper work.

The door was suddenly thrown open and Tony and Bruce strode through, the first looking completely calm and utterly in control in a well tailored suit, the latter looking exhausted and dazed. Behind them, Steve hovered at the doorway, an odd move. Usually when confronting Fury about team issues, Steve was the one to talk. Fury got to his feet, turning his glare on Stark.

"Care to explain yourself, Stark?" Fury demanded. "Why are you here?"

"Got wind of a sticky situation over here so we uh, cleaned up a bit quicker than necessary and high-tailed it back. You know, I didn't want to test out the beta of this new jet I had made, but the situation seemed a little too dire to worry about proper testing," Tony said, slipping past Clint to stand in front of Fury.

"I want to point out I was against using a jet that isn't out of testing phase yet," Bruce said, giving a small wave.

"And you didn't inform me of this decision?" Fury was no longer looking at Tony, instead glaring over his shoulder at Steve, who was the leader of their mission.

"Comms broke on the jet. Can't say I know why," Steve said with a shrug. "So given that two members of our team have been taken hostage, am I free to take this mission over?"

"No you are not free to-"

"Actually, yes he is," Tony interrupted, sliding into Fury's line of sight. "Our contracts, the new ones we all signed last week, state that if any member of the team is compromised, any other member is allowed to take charge of the mission. Do you not read over these contracts anymore, Fury?"

Fury didn't respond for a moment, then straightened. "It seems my new good eye doesn't see as well as the old one."

Clint's jaw tightened. He knew Fury was trying to get further rise out of him, show to the rest of the team how volatile he was, that he couldn't be trusted out in the field. But he wasn't rising to the bait. Even if Fury was right. Clint had all but killed Fury's one good eye.

"That was a low blow, wasn't it Director?" Bruce asked quietly.

"Excuse me, Banner?"

"I know when a SHIELD agent is trying to get a rise out of someone," Bruce continued, shooting a brief glance and a smile towards Clint. "I was on the receiving end of it quite often. And I don't appreciate you trying to do the same to one of my teammates."

"So if you don't mind," Steve said, coming up behind Clint. "I'll be taking this mission over. I'll even brief you on the one we finished before I go back to the tower."

"I don't appreciate the tone of voice, Rogers," Fury interrupted. "Contract or not, I can tie you up with enough paper work that you won't be able to take over the mission."

"That still leaves you with me and Bruce," Tony said, stepping back to stand in between Steve and Bruce, effectively forming a wall between Clint and Fury. "And why would you want to tie us up anyways? We're the best people to take on this situation, and Natasha and Peter are our teammates. When we rescue them, we'll know how to play to their strengths. So tell me Fury. Why wouldn't you want us on this mission?"

Fury turned his gaze on each of them in turn, and for once, Clint was glad there was someone standing between him and his antagonist. "You have 24 hours before I suspend the mission and let someone else take over. Don't disappoint me."

-.-

There is always that moment, no matter how dark things get, when you become hopeful once more. It makes it all the more painful when the rug is ripped from beneath you.

"Barton, grab Bruce's sleeping pills out of my right pocket, hm?" Tony asked.

He was heading for the other scientist's bedroom, and Bruce was barely walking even with Tony's arms wrapped around him to keep him upright. Clint obeyed the order wordlessly and held up the small container, which Tony took into his mouth before kicking the bedroom door open and dragging Bruce through. He lifted a finger in order for Clint to wait before shutting the door.

He emerged barely ten seconds later and linked his arm through Clint's, dragging him towards the lab. "Now let me see how many of your questions I can answer before you even open your mouth. Bruce needs sleeping pills because even though he looked like he was about to pass out, his brain never shuts off. He's going to need sleep before this thing gets going. The jet has been made for a year now and was what Steve used to get to California in the first place, so that's how we got back so quickly."

Tony paused as the elevator doors opened, then pushed the archer through before the doors slid shut behind them. "I knew about Natasha going missing because Peter was afraid you had been compromised and wanted to know how to handle it. I told him to tell Fury because I was hoping maybe he wouldn't screw things up but that didn't go so hot." He pulled Clint into the lab and forced him to sit down at one of the lab tables before taking a seat across from him. "How'd I do?"

"That's great Tony, but Natasha and Peter are still gone and I'm not fit to be on a mission," Clint said flatly.

And it was true. Everything Fury had said was true, and the only reason he had bothered to cling to the mission, to refuse to let Fury take him off of it was because even compromised, he trusted himself more than anyone else with Peter and Natasha's lives.

"Don't worry, that's why we're here," Tony said, giving him a quick grin. "We all read up on whatever was in the SHIELD database about the whole mission on our way in, so you don't have to talk much. Just do what Steve tells you and this will all be over in a heartbeat."

"Sir, I have a location on Mr. Parker," Jarvis announced.

"Thanks JARVIS," Tony said, eyes not leaving Clint's. "What's going on with you anyways, Barton?"

"You're really going to ask me that after what JARVIS just said? How the hell do you know where Peter is?"

"Obviously this Rourke guy wants to be found. He didn't remove Peter's cellphone, which I gave him," Tony said with a shrug. "I didn't bother tracking him until SHIELD was our hair though."

"How do you know he wants to be found?" Clint asked.

"He's got a vendetta against you," Tony said, expression growing serious. "People who have vendettas want to see you in pain. He's not going to kill Peter or Natasha until he's sure you're watching."

"You know everything, don't you?" Clint asked with a shake of his head.

"That's what I've been telling people," Tony said. "So. Are you okay?"

Clint's eyes narrowed. "I was unaware you gave two shits about my well being Stark."

"You might be a liability on the field. That's not to say I'm going to make Steve keep you off the field, it's just better if someone knows if you're about to have a panic attack and is prepared to help you if you do," Tony said, his tone business like. But when Clint looked in his eyes, he would almost swear he could see some sort of care there.

"I don't know," he finally answered. "Natasha got tortured because of my mistakes, and that innocent woman died for the same reason. And now...who knows what that bastard is doing to Peter. If anything, I'm more pissed at myself than I am at Rourke." He glanced down at his hands, twisting his fingers together.

"You know that annoying moment when a counselor says 'I understand'? Yeah well, I understand, Barton," Tony said, and when Clint glanced up at him, the man was looking off to the side, tapping his fingers on the table. "Lot of people got killed because of my mistakes. Sucks. And you know what? It probably is your fault that Coulson died, and that Natasha and Peter are stuck where they are."

"Tony, I'm not seeing how this is supposed to make me feel better," Clint said dryly.

Tony shrugged. "Didn't say I was trying to. My point is, your mistakes messed things up. So what are you going to do?"

"What do you want me to say?" Clint asked, spreading his arms open. "I'm just trying to save Peter and Natasha and take this stupid fucker down."

"And then what?"

"What else is there to do?" Clint asked.

"Killing Rourke isn't going to make your mistakes go away," Tony said. "Killing Obi didn't save all the people that died by the weapons he illegally sold behind my back. You kill Rourke, Coulson isn't coming back. Rourke kills you? Coulson still won't come back."

Clint stared at him, realizing then that killing Rourke wasn't going to fix his problems, not really. Why would it? He had lost control to Loki. Gotten Coulson killed. Now Peter and Natasha were paying for it, paying for his debt. But even if he paid for his mistakes, turned himself over to Rourke or let Rourke carry out his sick game, Coulson wasn't coming back. He was never coming back.

"Tony-"

"Mr. Stark, there is a Mr. Wilson requesting permission to ent-"

"Hey Birdy!"

Clint and Tony turned to see Deadpool finish manhandling the automatic doors, that had been locked shut by Jarvis, open, carrying a body over his shoulder. He deposited it on the table before them, and Natasha let out a stream of Russian curses as he jostled her broken arm in the process.

Except the arm that had been broken was in a cast and she had a sling cradling it to her body. Her fingers were also in their own casts. She flopped her head back down onto the table and then turned her head to look at Clint.

"Hey. Your crazy assassin friend rescued me," she said. "So we can go after Rourke now."

"You know, that Rourke guy is not someone to be messed with," Wade said. "I really think it's better if you avoid him, I told you guys that."

"How did you get past JARVIS?" Tony asked, not sparing a glance at Natasha.

"I'm Deadpool," Wade said in answer. "So did I do a good job, Birdy?"

Clint shook his head to clear it and then looked over at the masked assassin. "Yeah, yeah, thanks Wade. Natasha..."

"I would really like to be taken to SHIELD medical now, if that's at all possible," she said quietly as Wade and Tony began to bicker on the other side of the table.

"He got Peter," Clint said, holding his arms out to her.

She twisted herself into a semi-upright position and then rolled into his grasp, grunting a bit as he helped her onto her feet. They both glanced at the assassin and Tony before heading for the mangled door.

"Did he now?" she asked.

"We have to get him back," Clint said firmly, mind rolling through what he and Tony had discussed. "Then we kill him."

"And you move on?" She swung to stand in front of him, eyes holding his. "This man is demented. He's going to make Peter hurt, and he's going to do what he can to make you hurt. But whatever he says, it's a lie."

"Not a lie, Nat," Clint said, smiling despite it. "My mistakes did get Coulson killed. And you kidnapped and hurt. I fucked up. But I guess whining over it won't fix anything."

"You're going to kill yourself with the guilt," Natasha said, eyes narrowing.

"No I'm not," Clint said. "Really. I've figured this out, I think. Me dying, my feeling guilty...it's not going to bring Coulson back. It's better if I move on."

Natasha was too trained to look impressed, or disgusted, or whatever it was she was feeling. Clint was usually able to guess but he truly couldn't tell now looking at her. "I don't know if I'm impressed or worried for your sanity." Then she turned on her heel and began to stride down the hallway. "So what's our attack plan? I assume you have one."

"Not really," Clint said, following after her.

"Oh, lovely."

"Well, Stark has a location on Peter, which is an improvement," Clint said. "We can go in guns blazing I think. Tony says no one's touching Peter until Rourke knows I'm watching."

"Seems like him, doesn't it?" Natasha said. She paused at the elevator, stepping inside when the doors opened with Clint on her heels. The number for her floor automatically lit up, thanks to Jarvis.

"I guess." Clint glanced at her as the elevator took them up. "Are you okay Nat?"

"He's an amateur in comparison to what we've both dealt with," she said.

"He's doing a lot of damage for an amateur."

"Could be worse." The doors slid open and she stepped out, crooking her finger for him to follow down towards her bedroom. "If you can get past his armor skin, you can take him out."

"Tony gave Peter and I some new toys," Clint said. "Though I bet the ones Peter had on him are broken by now."

"Did Stark make me anything?" she asked, hovering in the doorway of her room.

Clint shrugged. "Don't know. So do you wanna go to SHIELD or just get some sleep?"

"Sleep is good," she said. "I'd ask you for some company but-" She held up her cast.

"Hey you've done it in worse condition," Clint said with a smile.

She rolled her eyes. "Wake me up when we have a plan. Even if I can't fight, I want to know what's going on."

"Yes ma'am." Natasha opened the door and began to walk through it. "Hey, Nat? I'm glad you're okay."

She turned and gave him a small nod and shut the door.