DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING

…..

In hindsight, maybe firing the explosive arrows at four o'clock in the morning while everyone was asleep was a bad idea. If he had thought this through then he wouldn't have an angry Tony Stark yelling at him for it. Stupid nightmares, stupid Tony Stark.

"…And I told you a thousand times not to fire those things in the tower until I get the walls reinforced to handle Hulk-Level damage! Why is it so hard for you people to listen to me?!"

'I can think of a number of reasons why,' thought Clint, but he decided to keep that remark to himself as went to collect his arrows, but unfortunately Stark beat him to it. The annoying asshole.

As the billionaire picked up another arrow he said, "You really need to stop it with these graveyard hours, Birdie. They're not good for your health. And it's starting to disturb the other tenant's sleep."

Clint snorted in disbelief at the comment. "This is coming from the guy who holes himself up in his lab for days on end? The guy who needs to be reminded to eat and drink by Jarvis and Pepper? Who are you to be giving me advice about working late?"

"For your information, Birdie, the work I do down in my lab is super important. It benefits the team and the world. So I have a valid excuse."

If there was one thing that Tony was good at, it would be directly and indirectly insulting people. "Pretty sure that my aiming skills have been aiding the team and the world too, Stark," Barton mumbled half-heartedly before he reached down to retrieve his quiver. A sudden dizzy spell washed over him which caused him to stumble a little. He managed to stop himself from falling flat on his face, but he knew the genius had caught the slip-up.

"Geez Barton, way to prove me right," Tony said before he placed a steadying hand on his teammate's arm. "You definitely need some sleep because honestly, you look like crap."

Clint was three seconds away from telling Tony where he could stick that comment, but he was too tired to argue. Plus Stark was giving him a weird look that could've almost been mistaken for concern. Pfft, as if. "Alright, I'll go to bed. Just give me my arrows back."

"Yeah, no Barton, I think I'll hang on to these for a while. Maybe after I'm sure that you've gotten more than five minutes of sleep, then I'll give them back to you."

"Why you irritating bastard!"Annoyance was starting to drown out the exhaustion and the archer was about to lunge at the billionaire when the elevator doors opened and Bruce walked out. No doubt he came to inspect the cause of the explosions. His tired coffee brown eyes looked back and forth between the two men, trying to gauge which one was guilty. Before Barton could react Tony had shoved the arrows into his arms and took a few steps away from him.

"It was all Barton. I tried to stop him."

Barton flinched when Bruce graced him again with the Disappointed Face. Today was gonna suck.

XxXxXxX

Clint stifled a yawn as he walked into the Director's office. After being confronted by both Banner and Stark he had retreated back up to his room and slept for thirty blissful nightmare-free minutes before he had to wake up and get ready for his meeting with Fury.

"Good morning, Agent Barton. I hope you're able to stay awake for this meeting," said Fury.

"Of course, sir," replied Clint before taking a seat in front of the one eyed man's desk. "So, what did you call me in for?" His question was answered when the other man handed him a folder containing a few pictures of a familiar looking man inside.

"This is Agent McCray, and word is that you attacked him and dumped his body into a dumpster." Fury then laced his fingers together, tucked them underneath his chin, and gave the archer a blank stare. "You wanna explain that one to me?"

'Son of a…' thought Clint as he raked a hand through his dark blond hair. He thought that fucker looked familiar and now he suspected that this was a setup to get him into even more trouble than he already was. "Director Fury, first let me just say that Agent McCray started it."

Fury wasn't impressed.

But Clint didn't care if his response sounded childish, it was the truth, damn it and he had the slashes on his skin to prove it! He hadn't gone looking for trouble that morning and he sure as hell didn't go looking for a SHIELD agent to beat up on. He spoke this to Fury in hopes of making the man realize that he was innocent. Hopefully that wasn't asking for too much.

The one eyed man sighed. "Did you have to leave him in the dumpster, Barton? Couldn't you have left him somewhere else?"

Hawkeye shrugged his shoulders. "I'm pretty cranky in the morning and when people try to kill me." When the older man sighed again Clint knew there was more to the story. "What else did this agent say?" He had a gut feeling that him he wasn't going to like what he about to hear.

"Agent McCray said that he had a feeling that you were under the influence."

Time seemed to have stopped as Clint let the words echo through his head. Under the influence, that was what he was being accused with? This wasn't good, this was so not good. "Director Fury, surely you don't believe this guy! I was just going on a morning run when he started following me and then attacked me! I've already been cleared by psyche and they said that there were no traces of…"

Nick raised a hand to cease his agent's rant. "The problem isn't convincing me," he started with a frown. "It's trying to convince the Council."

Well fuck, he was in serious trouble now. The Council hated his guts since he first started working at SHIELD. No doubt they would give him a hard time about this. "What does the Council want me to do now? Do I have to have more therapy sessions?"

Fury simply shook his head. "Just don't expect any missions anytime soon. But for now, just try to stay out of trouble. Dismissed."

Clint rose from his seat and made his way to the door. "Sure thing, sir. I'll just stay in my room until this thing blows over."

XxXxXxX

Clint wasn't surprised when he bumped into Bruce while walking through the Helicarrier. After all, the man did mention he needed to pick up some papers from the R&D labs of SHIELD. "Afternoon Doc, you need any help carrying those folders?"

Bruce juggled the folders in his arms before finally managing to get them straight. "I think I got it. Are you done with your meeting with Director Fury? Was it anything bad?"

Clint shrugged his shoulders as he fell in step with his team-mate. "More or less, it could've been much worse."

The men continued talking before deciding to head to the cafeteria to grab a quick bite to eat. When they finally reached the mess hall a hush fell over the normally noisy area. Clint gave a sideways glance to his friend, who was obviously bothered by the silence. The sniper himself wasn't. He had grown used to it over the past few months, and if the news about Agent McCray was out, then things were only going to get worse.

Oh well, he only wanted to focus on getting some food and not worry about the whispers or angry stares pointed in his direction. Upon reaching the food window the server all but threw Clint's tray of food at him, not even trying to hide his disdain for the archer.

"Thanks," Clint muttered sarcastically before walking back to Bruce. He noticed the way the older man was staring at him and quickly said, "Don't worry about, Bruce. I'm used to it."

Banner looked scandalized. "You shouldn't have to deal with it! You're not to blame for what happened!"

"Meh what can you do?" Barton said with a shrug before turning his attention to his turkey sandwich. He felt his eye twitch at the sight of it and disposed of it on a empty table. He'd go somewhere else to grab lunch. He then turned to usher Bruce out of the food area, promising to buy them lunch at a burger place or something.

"Please tell me that there wasn't anything wrong with that sandwich," whispered the scientist as he glanced back at the forgotten lunch tray. A younger agent had gone to it and happily took a bite out of it. Five seconds later the agent was on the floor, convulsing violently while his friends were trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Eyes now wide with a tint of green Bruce turned his attention back to the man who was pulling his arm. "Clint…"

Said man tightened his hold on the doctor's arm and walked them faster out of the cafeteria. "Just don't think about it, Bruce. Take deep breathes."

"But…that could've been you!" Anger and worry filled his voice.

"But it wasn't. Everything is okay. Deep breathes; in and out. We don't need the agents to be mad at both of us if the Other Guy appears."

Bruce finally did what the archer asked, but dug his heels into the ground to stop them from walking. "How long has this been going on? Why didn't you say anything about this before?!"

"Because it doesn't matter! I can ignore it and I would appreciate it if you ignored it too."

"Ignore what?" asked a voice.

Both men turned around to see Tony Stark making his way towards them. Great, now it's a party. Clint barely withheld the need to roll his eyes in the man's presence. Banner had turned back to him, giving him a distressed look. "Do whatever you want," he muttered. He didn't wait around to hear Bruce tell Tony about him almost being poisoned. He didn't want to see the billionaire's reaction. And he didn't care to see how Tony was going to make the food server's life miserable either.

XxXxXxX

There was a knock on Clint's door before Tony barged in without waiting for Clint to answer. "Hey Legolas, I got you something from Burger King. And don't worry; I didn't do anything to it. I wouldn't do something like that unless it was April fool's Day. Just giving you a head's up."

The archer looked back and forth at the bag of food and the genius before finally taking it. "Thanks," he said. Inside the bag was a Whopper burger, some french fries, and chocolate pie. 'Not bad,' he thought while nibbling on a fry.

"Just so you know, the asshole sandwich maker has been dealt with." Tony pulled out his Stark-pad and showed the archer a disturbing picture which caused him to nearly choke on his food. "This picture has been sent to all SHIELD agents. You're welcome."

"Aw sick, Stark. I'm trying to eat here!" yelled Clint, but he couldn't stop himself from laughing. "You didn't have to do that for me."

Tony scoffed at this. "Of course I did. We're team-mates, friends, Avengers! We avenge each when one of us is done wrong! I'd do it again in a heartbeat and get the whole team involved!"

"You just like causing trouble," Barton accused.

Stark gave a shrug. "Well…yeah, that too."

The two men sat in a comfortable silence, one eating a burger while the other stole french fries. Clint could tell that Tony wanted to ask him something so he said, "What is it?"

"Is Asshole sandwich maker the reason why you don't eat some of the team's food?"

"…What?"

Stark's brown eyes grew with horror. "That is the reason! That's why you never eat Bruce's almost-better-than-sex spaghetti!"

"Calm down, Stark! That isn't—"

"It all makes sense now. Bruce makes the world's best spaghetti, and you won't eat it because you're afraid that someone is going to poison you like they did today! Why didn't I realize this befo—"

"TONY!" Clint let out a sigh of relief when the man finally stopped talking. Surprise was on his face, either because the use of his first name, or the fact that Clint also threw a french fry at him to get his attention. "That isn't the reason why I don't eat Bruce's or the team's food. I trust you guys."

Tony gave the blond a skeptical look. "Then why deny yourself the pleasure of eating Bruce's spaghetti?"

"…I don't like mushrooms."

The other man relaxed a little bit. "So what, you allergic to them?"

"No…"

"You don't like the taste of them?"

"That's not it either."

Tony threw his hands in the air in exasperation, because what other reason was there? "Then what's the problem, Katniss?!"

Heat was starting to spread across the sniper's face before he turned to look the other way. "It's a stupid reason. And if I tell you then you'll laugh, and then I'll have to punch you in the face." To Barton's surprise Tony donned a serious face.

"I promise I won't laugh. You have my word."

Clint weighed the pros and cons of telling the older man his secret before finally giving in. "T-There was this documentary on TV late one night that I watched because nothing else was on. It showed this one ant that was acting crazy and whatever. The British narrator guy said that the ant had been infected with some kind of mind control spores and they'll make the ant go find a high leaf and clamp down on it with its jaws. The ant would soon die and then this mushroom looking thing would sprout from the dead body and then make more spores to infect the ant's colony and any other bug in the area."

"Yikes," Tony muttered, thankfully still not laughing. He was definitely creeped out by this.

"Yeah, just one ant can take out an entire colony. It's actually kinda funny because if the ants see that one of their own is acting funny they'll dispose of the body somewhere far away from their home. Heh, even ants know how to quarantine."

Stark nodded his head as he let the information digest in his brain. That weird serious expression was still on his face. "Just so you know, we're not gonna quarantine you if you go blue eyes again."

Clint sighed. "Tony…" he started, but the other man interrupted him.

"I'm serious, Clint. We'll smack you in head as often as you need us to in order to get you back to normal. But we're not going to just…get rid of you. We're a team!" When the younger man finally nodded he rose up from his seat and headed towards the door. "I'll suggest to Brucie that he doesn't add mushrooms next time he cooks spaghetti. Hopefully that doesn't alter the taste too much."

"Hopefully," Clint muttered as he balled up the hamburger wrapper and tossed it in the trashcan. "Thanks for…" The archer paused in thought. Despite the older man being a complete asshole at times, he had given him a room to live in, didn't laugh when he told about his mushroom phobia, and he did "avenge" him. "…you know, stuff."

Tony chuckled. "And you're welcome for stuff."

Once the billionaire left the room Clint began to finish the rest of his food. He had a feeling that the man would tell Bruce about his dislike of mushrooms, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He knew the two scientists wouldn't try to exploit this weakness like others would. That, he was thankful for.

'But still…' Clint thought as he stared up at the ceiling. It was supposed to be comforting that the team wouldn't put him away if he got turned into a weapon for the bad guys again. But still…what if it took more than a blow to the head to stop him next time, what if he hurt more people? He didn't want to admit it, but he had grown rather fond of his new teammates and would never forgive himself if he attacked them again.

He wouldn't let that happen again.

"Hey Jarvis."

"Yes Master Barton?" asked the robotic British voice from the ceiling.

"You'd do anything to protect Tony, right? You wouldn't let anyone or anything hurt him?"

"That is correct, Master Barton. Why do you ask?"

Clint wasn't sure if disembodied butler sounded hesitant or if it was just his imagination. "I need to ask you a big favor."

END CHAPTER

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Whoo, this chapter took forever to write. Review and stuff!

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Until next time, BYE!